I think I got the POINT from this license plate

 

Is that a vanity license plate, or are you just happy to see me?

 Honestly, you can’t make this stuff up.

 Here it is, Monday morning, and I’m off to the local hospital for a medical scan. The doctor’s order calls for IV contrast.

 So, no big deal. I’ve had that a couple dozen times before. 

  I pull into the parking lot, and a grey minivan cuts right in front of me. Just then, I happened to notice the license plate:

### JAB

 The first three were numbers, but it’s probably illegal (or at least unwise) for me to post the whole license number.

  The plate was from another state, which I won’t name, except to say that it rhymes with “will annoy” (Sorry, had to. It’s a border thing.) And I hate to poke fun, but the plate may or may not have been stamped by a former Governor.

 Maybe that’s beside the point.

 

 I just had to wonder whether the minivan belonged to the phlebotomist, nurse, or medical student who would be administering my intravenous hookup.

 As it turned out, the one doing the needlework was most likely a first-timer or a trainee, based on the number of jabs she took to set things up in my arm. (I tried hard to be brave and stoic, as much as it hurt.) Let's just say she's likely to become sharper at it with practice.

 On the bright side, I’m kind of glad it’s a chillier day, so I won’t have to roll my sleeves up for my afternoon conference. The folks I’m meeting could jump to all sorts of conclusions, based on the needle tracks I’m now sporting. But I’m leery of taking a stab at any of that.

 

Image/s: Adapted from public domain artwork

 

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This medical scheduler almost got more than she asked for

 

Honestly, I didn’t mean to start anything. I was just answering her long litany of personal questions – in an all-too public setting. Does this stuff only happen to me?

 Standing in front of just one of several Plexiglas-fronted cubicles, I tried to respond as briefly and accurately as possible, as the medical scheduler seated on the other side of the transparent shield filled out the required paperwork to set up yet another exploratory test for me. 

Reaching the end of her list of queries, she looked up at me and asked, “Do you have any problems?”

 

I paused, just for a moment. Then I replied, “Oh, honey. Where do I start?”

 She gave me a blank stare.

 Then she rephrased the question. “Do you have any problems related to this particular procedure?”

 Maybe she should have led with that.

 I grinned at her. “I bet you get that all the time,” I said.

 “Nope,” she answered.

 We wrapped up the details without many more words. That’s probably not a bad thing.

 

Image/s: Adapted from public domain artwork

 

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Birthday cards gain mileage when folks forget

Aging isn’t funny, unless we are able to laugh at our own selves.

There’s a certain group of special and particularly social senior people I know, who celebrate their collective birthdays every month. They gather for supper once a month to honor those who are having birthdays. They do the whole cake and candles thing. And they give each other birthday cards.

Greeting cards - public domain photo

But here’s the funny part.

These folks don’t actually sign the birthday cards. Instead, they sign little sticky notes and tuck them into the cards.

“That way, we can reuse the cards next month,” one participant told me. “Greeting cards are pricey these days, so each card becomes like a gift in itself. And most of us won’t remember it anyway.”

It kind of makes sense, doesn’t it? It’s kind of like re-gifting, only a little less tacky. Or maybe more tacky, if you consider the sticky on the notes. (Sorry, had to.)

Stop me, if you’ve heard this one.

Last year, a friend sent me a birthday card that read: “We’ll be friends until we’re old. Then we’ll be new friends again.”

I’m not knocking people who have actual medically diagnosed memory loss issues. It’s just that most of us forget stuff all the time, especially as we grow older. It’s like the old “hereafter” joke: “I find myself thinking more and more about the hereafter. Like I come upstairs and wonder, What did I come up here after?”

By the way, I just had a milestone birthday. But none of my cards contained sticky notes. So I guess I’ll have to buy some new cards for this month’s slew of birthdays.

Maybe going Post-It makes sense.

Images:

Public domain  photo

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