I have a special love for the movie Young Frankenstein. One of my favorite takeaways is the stolen brain Igor recalled as belonging to “Abby Normal”. The comedic callback gives me a brief smile in times of stress.
“Your test results were abnormal. Doctor needs to see you sooner than your next scheduled appointment.”
Oh good. Now I get to stew in my own imagination for the next 6 days.
I didn’t get a “head straight to the ER” call. I wasn’t told to show up at such-and-such a place for more testing. I didn’t get a call from a random surgeon or cancer doctor’s office about a referral.
You can see that I tend to imagine the worst at the drop of a pin.
Yesterday, face-to-face with the doctor and my abnormal test results, she was chipper. “I’m happy to report that we need to reduce several of the meds you are taking.”
I’m stunned. Once again I am reminded how quickly my imagination gets out of hand.
In retrospect, the nurse might have said, “Doctor wants to adjust some of your meds.” Yeah, that would have been nice. But then I don’t know what the protocol is for such things.
Either way, at my age, there are plenty of blood draws and routine doctor’s visits to ensure that I will always have some qualms when I take a call from my doctor’s office.
After all, I think I have the brain of “Abby Normal.”
Photo by Pat David
Via Daily Prompt: Qualm