I got a phone call from La Porte Hospital's scheduling department (it's a pre-recorded thing) telling me about my appointment on Wednesday at the hospital. I was under the impression that my appointment (the MRI) was supposed to be at a small clinic in Michigan City.
So, at this very moment, I'm on hold with the scheduling department trying to figure out when I'm going to get this stupid thing done. (10 minutes.)
Okay. Hold over. It looks like I have the option of going at 12:30 p.m. on Wednesday or 3:30 p.m. on Friday. Willi is on his way home at the moment, and I need to talk to him before I can make a decision (because he's coming to meet me at the appointment for moral support and to watch Nora). So, now, I have to call back. Yay.
I don't understand how this actually happened. The woman who scheduled me talked at length with me about why I needed to be scheduled at the clinic in Michigan City. Apparently, since I'm pregnant, I'm, like, too big to be comfortable in the MRI machine at La Porte. Then, she went ahead and scheduled me for La Porte. What the crap, people?
So much for getting this thing done ASAP like the order originally said. My appointment (where the doctor told me I needed to get one of these) was on July 2nd. There's also a chance I may have to reschedule again (or not have this thing at all) if I find out that my insurance doesn't cover it. The doctor's office was apparently supposed to, like, figure that out when they scheduled this the first time (I didn't fully understand why the doctor had to figure that out about my insurance as opposed to the place where the MRI is happening).
What a friggin' mess. I almost wish they'd have let me schedule it myself in the first place. Criminey.
Again, I'll say that I'm thankful that healthcare isn't socialized yet. This little mishap may have cost me six more months before I could get that MRI (which I hope and assume will come back clear).
Aaaaaand I'm done.