The day I was assigned a vet.

So I've had quite a few doctors.  Quite a few dozen.  From western medicine (cut it out or disguise with pill) to very eastern (holding bottles of pills to my cheek to see if my body thinks I need them).  There is probably close to 70 or 80, now.  That's what ya do when you're sick, right? 

Then there was the day I was assigned my very own veterinarian.  By the state department, no less.  To a southern woman whose ENTIRE home town calls her 'beefy,' this was glorious.  I guess I tested positive for this strange bovine illness. See?  AWESOME.  You might have to be quarantined.  EVEN BETTER. 

So I'm gonna share the story of the day I had to report in for my bovine test. It's a good one. 

One summer a few years back, I was in summer HEAVEN (McCall, Idaho...will get hitched there...will get hitched there) and my infectious disease (sexy, right) doc called to tell me that I had test positive for brucellosis.  Yeah. Okay.  Is this my answer?  The one I've been begging and begging for?  A cow disease?  Really?  Hey, if it has a cure I'll take it.  So, legally, they had to report it to the state.  Legally, I had to be assigned a vet.  He was wondering if I could come in for a repeat blood test to make sure it wasn't a false positive.  Sure.  Problem was that this doc was in Salt Lake, I was in Idaho and I lived in Texas.  I did have a two hour layover in salt lake on my flight back from boise to dallas, though. (this is why I'm sick - I even think such things are possible).

So - I set it up. I call the U and tell them that they HAVE to have the lab order ready because I was going to be rushing from the airport to the hospital and I wouldn't have time to wait. Done. Call Grandma to pick me up. Done.  I get in from Boise - head out to old terminal 2, and off we go up N. Temple.  Arrive at the hospital - free valeting! - yahoo!  run into the doc's office and ask for the lab order so I can head down to the lab and get this done.

Yeah. No one in the doc's office has any idea what I'm talking about. Secretary is at lunch.  You'll have to sit and wait until she comes back.  Finally get someone to tick a box (after a 30 minute wait with my Grandma speaking whatever comes to her mind, loudly) and run to the lab.  Yeah.  They've never heard of this test. Don't know what color tube to put the blood in.  I suggest we just guess.  Then I get desperate and suggest we just fill a tube for each color and let me go.  Nope.  Have a seat.  We'll have to call the doctor.  Doctor's office (across the hall) has no idea what they are talking about.  They decide to call the state department.  My flight leaves in one hour.  I need to be on the road in 10 minutes, at the latest.  State department has never heard of the test.  Poor pregnant (maybe 14 year old) girl next to me is afraid of needles and I hold her hand.  Clock ticks and ticks and ticks.  I pretty much beg them just to draw blood and figure it out later.  Show them my boarding pass.  I'm tired. I'm sick.  Let me go home.  To any home.  But please be the one in Texas. 

Another HALF hour rolls by and they suggest that maybe they can just draw my blood and figure all of this out later.  no sh*t sherlock.  I pretty much pull the needle out of my own vein and take off running.  I had sent Grandma to get the car from the valet so it would be pulled up and ready.  I get there and there is no car.  They send another valet to look for the first valet.  Both come back and say they can't find the car.  Please find the car.  One goes off again and says he has found the car. good. where is it?  says he now can't find the keys.  I'm starting to laugh at this point.  I don't have a temper. I don't yell. I just do my little crazy nervous laugh. 

I look through all of their keys.  No grandma's keys.  Grandma is saying exactly what is on her mind.  Maybe valet #1 has them in their pocket. Can't find valet #1.  Valet #2 goes to look for #1.  Someone pulls up with the car and says that the keys were in the car but luckily it wasn't one of those auto-lock cars so we are good. I kind of forget to tip an go flying down the hill. 

Fly up to the airport curb, only one security line, person in front of me with lots of kids and many, many strollers and shoes to velcro (i really did feel bad for her), I finally get to go through, and run to the gate. SOMEHOW I made it.  I sat in my seat, looked out the window, still gasping for breath, and reminded myself that this whole overbooking with little time has got to stop.

Oh, and that bovine test was negative. Damn.