The Color of Winter IV: Willfulness

After tackling the bicycle problem head-on, I felt actually able to do what needed doing. I rode across town to the medical clinic and got my throat looked at. They found nothing wrong but took a culture to be tested at the hospital. I was handed a plastic bag with a vial inside.

“What's this?” I asked.

“Your throat culture.”

“And why are you giving it to me?”

“So you can take it to the lab.”

“Me? I thought you would do that.”

“Oh no. The lab's at the hospital. Just take it over and drop it off. You'll be in and out in two minutes.”

I was furious, and anxious because it was getting close to when I needed to be at a friend's birthday. I was in clothes that stank of sweat and I was still somewhat smeared with bike grime. But I had no choice, so I rode it to the hospital. It took five minutes to find the lab and when I put the vial on the counter, the man behind it looked at me like I'd just spit in his mouth.

“What's that?” he asked.

“A culture from OnCall.”

“Why is it on my counter?”

“I was told to drop it off here.”

“Well, have you checked it in at the Registration desk?”

“Uh...no?”

“Then take it away. We can't do anything with it until you've checked it in.”

By this point, I was livid. I found the Registration desk. The woman behind the counter was already helping someone. I stood a few paces back. She looked up at me, surprised.

“Are you waiting, sir?”

“Yes.”

“Well, here, take this pager. We're going to be a while.”