May 3rd, 2006
I stuck it to the man today
About six weeks ago, I started having digestive troubles. I won’t go into the details, but I do have a funny story which is related.
Sticking it to the man
It’s now been over one month since my doctor sent me home with three different stool sample kits (2 for preserved samples and 1 for a ‘fresh’ one). She asked me to do the deed and then get the stuff back to her lab as soon as possible. I procrastinated and stalled. Let’s face it: who’s really keen on getting intimate with their own feces when they come home from a hard day at work?
In particular, the ‘fresh’ sample posed a real logistical problem. It needed to arrive at the lab within one hour of its production, and the lab is only open 8 AM - 5 PM Monday through Friday. What was I supposed to do - poop in a cup at work and then call the express courier service?!
Anyway, this morning I had a stroke of luck. Nature called around 8:00 AM, so I grabbed my kits and went to work. Then I quickly got ready for work and jumped in my car, bringing the poop-filled vials in labeled baggies, all inside of a paper lunch bag. I was hoping to get to work by 9:00, but it seemed that I had plenty of time. After all, the lab is very close to FHI and it was only 8:30 AM when I arrived. Also, Dr. Kraschenewski had told me I could just “drop off the samples”. This couldn’t possibly take very long, right?
I waited patiently in line at the reception desk. I asked some nurses if I could just go back to the lab and hand the samples to someone. No, they said, “there is paperwork to do.” Paperwork? Finally I reached the reception counter and explained that I had some samples to drop off for the lab, one of which would ‘expire’ in 15 minutes if they didn’t process it quickly. The lady asked me what *type* of samples they were, and I replied under my breath, hoping no one would hear.
She tried to look up my patient information in the computer but wasn’t having any luck. She called up the lab staff twice on the telephone, each time exclaiming loudly into the receiver (and to everyone else in shouting distance) that I was here “TO DROP OFF SOME STOOOOOOOL SAMPLES. UH-HUH THAT’S RIGHT, STOOOOOL SAMPLES.” My face was hot from humiliation and didn’t want to turn around and see the smirks on those other patients’ faces who were waiting in line behind me. She announced to me that the laboratory work order for the STOOOOL SAMPLES was not in my patient file, so she’d have to go talk to the lab people in person.
Again I waited, this time not as patiently, watching the time getting closer and closer to 9:00. She was gone almost 15 minutes when I asked myself, Why should I be late to work just because they don’t have their patient files in order? I slipped out of the building and drove away, leaving my bag of shit on their counter. I hope they had to open the fresh one to see what it was.