Well, I don’t like talking on the phone either, but IT’S YOUR JOB.

You might be wondering if we got Connor’s 3-day EEG scheduled. The answer would be no. Because, you see, anytime you schedule stuff hospital related, it doesn’t work like a doctor’s office where you get transferred to a person who schedules you on the spot. No. You leave voicemails for people who are supposed to call you back and don’t. They never do. And I’m getting really, really sick of it. The neurologist sent the order in yesterday morning, and the hospital is supposed to call me. By the end of business that day, I was quite antsy so I tracked down the department number on their website and got connected to the appropriate person. I got her voicemail (story of my life) which stated she was out of the office that day, but also explicitly stated that all messages left that day would be returned the next. Well, it’s 6 p.m. the “next” day and nothing. So I will be calling again first thing in the morning, at which time I expect to address a voicemail again, then spend the rest of the day seething. It’s no little thing trying to squeeze in three days in the hospital at the holidays! I’m stressing over two things. First, what if they don’t even have any openings for a ludicrous amount of time, like until next year? And then, what if the opening they do have screws up our plans this month? Not to mention it always takes forever to get the results, so the sooner the test is done, the sooner we can start the next phase of waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

To top it off, I realized today that I have hung up on countless phone calls from the pharmacy that provides Connor’s Sabril. I’ve complained here before about my issues with them, so you might wonder why I would be hanging up on them repeatedly. Well, dear reader, this is why. When I call them I use an 800 number. When they call me it’s a 901 area code, Memphis number. But I only recently made this connection because every time I have answered the phone, nobody was there. It begins to ring on their end to connect me to someone, and then hold music begins to play. There is NO identifying information, even a recording, to inform you who is calling. Surprise! Like any normal person, I assumed this was some sort of telemarketing robo call. So I always hung up. Until I didn’t answer. Today I stayed on and was on hold for several minutes before someone came on identifying who it was. Great business model. Really.

I suppose I should bring something lighter in to close. I’ve figured out Connor’s favorite food finally. Of all things, it’s a combination of prunes and apples. PRUNES and apples. And you know what. It actually smells and tastes pretty good. Who knew? That might become his only solid if he keeps swinging his head back and forth to avoid the spoon like he does with some of the other pantry items.

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