My dear doctor hurt himself, so my appt last week was cancelled. Then this am his office called to cancel yet again, for two weeks. In desperation I asked to see one of his colleagues. Once I managed to get her to listen, it went well. Tests ordered, once results back, then referrals to be made
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I hate when I do that! So much so that I came up with an alternate theory: I have two cats, one of whom is very smart. I have decided that she has figured out how to open a portal under my bed into an alternate time/space continuum, through which she thrusts certain things I have gone looking for (the charger to the battery to the camera I no longer own, one each of several favorite sets of earrings, my potato masher). Occasionally, she retrieves something, but it must always be something I did not want back (a cheese wrapper, a used up pen, the detached tail from a gecko she killed the week before). Feel free to blame my cat. It does not offend her in the least.
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*hugs*
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