Can I get a HIPPA?

This was written on September 6, 2011,  a full year before I left my job to retire. At the time I was suffering from what I believed was a sprained ankle.  The MRI later proved I had indeed fractured my leg.

I sprinted, (hobbled) out of the office today, dressed in “comfortable clothing” and wondering if i would be a “chichi lala” like my friend Marna once inside the MRI tube.

It was hot in my car as I tossed my work clothes into the back seat and headed to the radiology clinic.  WOOHOO I thought finally someone is going to tell me whats wrong with my ankle.

I answered a couple emails on the work blackberry from the parking lot and then I went in.  After the usual argument about what my legal name is, and why my driver license doesn’t match, I settled into the waiting room to text (on silent) and play Words and Angry Birds.

Then I heard my name.  Carolina?

Yes?

Would you like to take care of your mammogram since your here?

Rut-ro!   Um….

Um….  But I don’t have that referral form…. ( I didn’t want to volunteer that I left it on the seat of the car and it was literally parked outside the clinic door, less than ten feet away.)

Oh, well, we can call your doctor’s office…

I have the form, I confessed.  I’ll go get it.

Great! We can get that done, well before your MRI appointment.

So my MRI appointment began…not at the foot of my problem, but over the very heart of the matter.

Just saying.  Who told on me?  All I wanted is to know what is wrong with my ankle.  Instead I’m being held hostage to boobie pictures?  Yeah, yeah.  I know, save the tatas.

I didn’t freak out and instead, I pulled an EAT, PRAY, LOVE and focused my way through it. The tech was very nice, fast and efficient. YAY!  Done!

I finally got to my MRI..   Equally easy and with proper focus and ear plugs I was able to get through it without any issues.

In a couple days, someone will tell me what is wrong. Then its back to the Therapy Nazi named Mindy and strategies for strengthening my legs for more running fun.

I can’t wait…..

Sorry for sharing all this.   I laughed all the way home.  No HIPPA for me….

Thanks for being my friends.

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About Caro

I am a social worker by training and a peace officer by profession having worked with California’s delinquent youth and young adults for 28 years. I firmly believe that our development as humans depends on our environment and that sometimes we get stuck. As such, I write about those things we sometimes ignore or fail to see until we are forced to pay attention.
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