Yesterday I stood at the receptionist's desk at my ortho doc's office. She told me I couldn't know the results of my MRI for 3 to 5 business days. Slowly my forehead found the countertop for a few purposeful bounces.
This followed the episode downstairs in the MRI suite. Hobbling out of the MRI room, I saw the black and white images of my knee glowing on several computer screens in the tech's room. I moved over to have a look. Cool.
"Ahem..." the tech begins, "you can't look at those because of HIPA laws."
"I can't look at pictures of my own knee?"
"Co-rrect," he says in what sounds like a well-rehearsed Alex Trebec-cent.
The MRI tech had told me that my doc would have my pictures on his computer without delay. I boogied as best I could on crutches straight up to his office. Now, this receptionist is telling me my doctor won't see the pictures until the radiologist is finished with them. I'm left with balancing these contradictions, still wondering if I'm fit for the kayaking vacation I'm supposed to be taking in 7 days.
Over the weekend ahead, I'll still be wondering. Which will give me some time to blog the back-story, back to the 4th of July, five days ago, when I got my boo boo knee.
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