The Slice: Lab results good, but you failed memory test
This syndrome does not have a name.
But it afflicts me and, I suspect, more than a few others.
Here’s what I am talking about.
You are in a medical offices waiting room. A nurse or someone else appears and calls your name.
You follow him or her to an exam room.
Then, after you have visited with the doctor, you say goodbye and head out of the exam room. Only you then realize that you have no idea how to find your way back to the reception desk and main exit.
This happens to me over and over, even at places I have visited before.
People are always nice about pointing the way out. Still, it’s a bit discombobulating.
I suppose I could blame it on a poor sense of direction. But I don’t think that’s it. Well, not entirely.
I suspect I get lost in even mildly labyrinthian medical-offices layouts for two simple reasons.
• Because of low-grade anxiety about the upcoming appointment, my mind is full of anticipation and I pay zero attention to my surroundings as I follow the nurse back to the exam room.
• I experience a rush of semi-euphoria upon finally being called back. As a result, I’m slightly giddy and the route to the exam room does not register.
At least those are my theories. But I’m not one to point out a problem without offering a solution. So here’s my suggestion.
I would like Spokane medical offices to begin employing specially trained service dogs. These canines can help guide patients back out to the front desk.
I can hear the doctor now.
“All right, Mr. Turner, I’ll see you again in six months. Hawkeye here will show you the way out.”
It’s either that or I need to start leaving a trail of bread crumbs.
Finish-this- sentence answer: “Don’t come crying to me when…your subscription rates go up again.” – Curt Olsen
Today’s Slice question: What Spokane area residential neighborhood is home to the greatest variety of birds?
I would assume it is an area with a high density and wide assortment of trees, including some big ones. But you know what happens when you assume.
Write The Slice at P.O. Box 2160, Spokane, WA 99210; call (509) 459-5470; email firstname.lastname@example.org. At least you don’t have a long commute in an unreliable vehicle.