We've read your MRI, schedule an appointment right away. Thank you, bye-bye.

Alyssa had an MRI at Research Medical Center Friday afternoon. While she was being scanned, Declan and I hung out in the radiology waiting room. Declan entertained several patients with his smiles, his plastic spoons, and his unusual habit of wanting to hang upside down to view the world. He lasted for about an hour, got a little whimpery and fell asleep on my shoulder. I rearranged him, and puppy dog, and we waited for his mama.

When Alyssa rejoined us an hour and a half later, she said that she was told that if she waits, the doctor will read the films and give us results. However, there was a new trauma arrival in the ER the neurosurgeon must deal with first. That's fair, and we are glad to wait. Waiting now, rather than suffering through the weekend, is fine with us. Declan is now awake and restless. I take him and the stroller out to the hallway and walk and walk and walk to entertain him. I love the long straight, uncluttered halls of Research and always have. I remember visiting my mother in the lobby of Research circa 1960 after her head surgery. Research is comfortable and familiar, and I don't mind the quiet time with my thoughts.

However.

One hour passes. Alyssa asks the radiology desk to call the radiologist reading her films to inquire about our status. Alyssa leaves for the bathroom, and of course, the MRI staff person calls. I take the call and am told the radiologist has read the films, conferred with the neurosurgeon and Alyssa is to make a follow up appointment right away.

Wait, we stayed for THIS? No, I told the woman, we were told to wait for results, not for directives to schedule an appointment. This is not okay, I said through slightly clenched teeth.

I'm told to call the neurosurgeon's office and maybe they can tell us more. Well, hello, the office is connected to the hospital. I think we will be one of those annoying patients who show up and want answers. I think that's fair exchange for spending several hours stuck in a hospital basement. With a baby. During nap time.

We walk over and ask nicely for results. The staff behind the counter resemble deer stunned by headlights. I don't think they are used to patients showing up and demanding results (albeit nicely). Someone skitters away and gets the PA, who kindly informs us that there was no change since Alyssa's MRI in June.

So there.