The Unringing Phone

They say they're going to call, in a week, on Thursday. So on Thursday you wait. You don't have to wait at home anymore like people did for most of the 20th century, you take your cell with you and take your waiting with you. On Thursday afternoon you leave a message with a machine. Then you leave a message with a person. Then it's Friday and you call again and leave a message with a person. The weekend is coming up, after all.

The new gyne sounded so sincere when she said she'd call. Today's first message-taker said she'd seen my file on the doctor's desk. The next message-taker said she'd give the doctor a message to call me. And, of course, only the doctor is allowed to tell the patient the biopsy results.

If she'd not going to call me, why doesn't she delegate?

Maybe by not calling she thinks she's conveying the message that the biopsy showed nothing, just as she figured. Up until Thursday I wasn't anxious to hear. Because I knew she would call on Thursday.

Her office closes in 45 minutes.