Life has a lot of sharp edges...

Perhaps this is not supposed to be easy, you think? After my glowing examination, I set off this morning to get the blood tests my doctor ordered. The lab was at 990 Sonoma Avenue, and the address is clearly noted on the street, so no problem finding the building. Or, actually, buildings, because this address is a bevy of little bungalows. There was a handicap van parked in the narrow driveway, so I took an empty space just inside the entrance. And, lucky me, there was a complex map! Except that Suite 18A was not on it. Okay. I did my little "you are here" figuring out where I was, always important, and I was right by the building that housed Suite 18. How convenient. No 18A. I did find a note that Quest Laboratory was in the back of the parking lot. Aptly named, don't you think? So I hiked back there, feeling triumphant. I gave my paperwork to the desk person, who asked if I was fasting, what was that in my mouth? Oop, I had popped in some gum, as usual (mouth is a dry as the Sahara without it). I got my hand slapped there, one of the tests was for glucose, for God's sake, but I assured her, no sugar in that gum. Then the technician told me my doctor's office had used the wrong diagnostic code and Medicare is a bear about that and would not pay for one of my tests, so I would have to pony up $23.47. And I said no thanks, let's skip that one for now. Everyone needs to get their acts together here! Including, well, me.