If I only Had a Brain

Lord, I'm trying not to flip out. After rising at 7, fasting (no coffee is hell for me) and boarding the shuttle for the  journey to the  Vanderbilt Autonomic Center , I find them waiting to tell me they made a mistake in scheduling and they need me to return at 3pm.  Then the words that broke the camels back rolled across her tongue. "We didn't know how to get in touch with you".   SLOWLY I TURN... you have to be freaking  kidding me. I only filled out volumes of paper work to visit this Holy Institution of Healing with all my contact numbers, including cell phone, on at least three different intake sheets. This really concerns me. If they cant problem solve an issue such as this to look for your cell phone number , how the heck can I trust them to administer any serious testing?  Yesterday, I was less than impressed with the nursing staff. She forgot to get my o2 stats during the initial test and as she said "winged" it with a number my on chart. Bit my tongue on that one... they thought I already had my tests and were looking for the results, including the Doctor.    NO, NO NO! This is my first visit...omg look at the papers in front of you. The doctor seems very knowledgeable on the subject,  but I fear his staff  is lacking. Actually I think he knows it, he rolled his eyes on more than one occasion when dealing with them or asking them to do something.  I heard them talking that almost all the staff were floaters from a service pool. I waited an hour for the doctor report and finally walked back to the unit and asked  the whereabouts of it and they had "forgot" sorry... the Admin women were pure bitches when I attempted to ask a question about the now defunct 8a test.  Great.  Folks, if you think Vanderbilt is any different than any other hospital, I fear it is the "Same circus, bigger tent".
After my initial mild to moderate raging episode, with full blown Kermit the Frog frailing arms... my sister wrangled me onto the elevator and we called for our shuttle to return. This was the bright spot of the morning.. Our shuttle driver is hilarious and knows how to play the Nashville tourists for those tips. He is a quite jolly fellow and I suspect he would be right at home with the Klumps at their dinner table. I thought he said his name was Oscar. Later in  the morning I realized it was Mr. Carter... I had called him Oscar all morning. LOL. How I got Oscar from that is beyond me. I shall continue to call him Oscar.  Anyway, when he seen me in full hissy mode after returning to the hospital he suggested breakfast (he knows what two fat women want when in distress) so he took us to the Pancake Pantry.  This is funny because the original Pancake Pantry is in Gatlinburg, my home town, and now I travel 300 miles and eat at the same restaurant I can eat at anytime at home. On the positive side it was delish as always. Now Oscar managed to work himself a big TO GO breakfast compliments of his fares  when he picked us up.  Marge says he will probably recommend Ruths Chris for dinner and hope for that to go container again. Anyhoo.... trying not to flip out but I haven't had any of my bp meds  for two days and my head is throbbing . I cant even imagine what my bp reading is at the moment. I also cant take my fibro meds or muscle relaxers until the test is over so my pain level is out the roof.   God only knows what they will do to me at 3p after my tongue lashing of them earlier . They will probably strap me on one of those round tables that spins and throw knives at me.