My near “Twilight Zone” experience…
If some well-meaning person intoned, “Just be nice, Jan,” I’d probably feel a bit like gagging. Wouldn’t you? Especially in the context of what appeared to be an incredibly botched medical appointment. Bear with me while I take a dip into my inner drama queen, trying to avoid being fully immersed in her oh-so-seductive quicksand.
Here we go! Got up at the break of light, dressed quickly, and out the driveway, 7 miles down to the medical facility. Managed to find a place in the already crowded, paid, parking deck. Walked on the very L-O-N-G walkway to the building, was admitted with proper ID, and moved to the first registration point. After offering (twice) all the requested information, I knew I was in trouble. No, there was no appointment for me in the system. (Uttered a very guttural “argh” which only my inner drama queen could hear.) Was sent to the basement lab for a second check of my appointment where I was also deemed persona non-grata. Teeth clenched, returned to main registration, and was told I had no alternative for keeping the appointment I needed. Oh, yes, the very same appointment for which I’d received an official reminder two days ago, but had deleted!
Truth: I began to hear the music theme from Rod Serling’s “The Twilight Zone” in my head, inclusive of the show’s iconic introduction: “You are about to enter another dimension….”)
Shook my head, hoping to dislodge the possibility of sliding into The Twilight Zone. Seemed to work. At that juncture, the occasional adult who lives inside me stepped up and took me by the hand to the second floor’s clinical practice office. Managed to speak to a scheduler who, once she understood I was not trying to snooker her, reinserted a lab appointment. Back again to the first floor‘s main registration point. STILL, NO APPOINTMENT TIME SHOWS UP. Another 10 minutes of my persistent internal diva chatter, and lo and behold, I am no longer persona non grata in the appointment system. However, I could not use the quick computer sign-in because I had a ‘brand new appointment’ which needed to be processed by a real human being (whose cubicle I could not find.) Finally, made it back down to the basement lab…
How does this relate to my initial sentence, “Be nice, Jan”? I mean, would you be feeling nice if, like a manic pinball, you’re bounced around for a necessary medical appointment? (Uh, oh, I can feel an inner drama queen resurgence happening. Down girl!)
A reframe. I had no idea where the problem with my missing appointment originated. It’s a busy facility and the long-time fatigue of Covid sucked up way, way too many resources. So, yes, I initially gave way to my inner drama queen. It was fortunate that only I could hear my drama queen opining, “Why me?!”
Let’s face it, we’ve all recently lived through a plague. Externalizing my emotional plague would help no one, including myself. However, there’s (drum roll) a new bug going ‘round - the civility bug. Now that’s a bug I can live with. Sure, I was a tad short-tempered in my first two verbal encounters at this facility, but the civility bug bit rather quickly after that. Let’s be honest, I became a superspreader of that good ol’ civility bug during the rest of my interactions in this building. And I felt better, oh heavens, so much better! It was clear as day that those who experienced my intentional sharing of civility contagion perked up like wilted flowers plopped into water. Oh, yes, that civility virus is a force with which to be reckoned!
So go on, be a civility bug superspreader - you’ll feel better and just about everybody else in your orbit will, too. Not bad, not bad at all…