A few years back, before we moved to Nashville, Wayne and I used to see the same doctor. However, we never visited at the same time. Except for one time. Sort of. We weren’t in there at the same time, but we both found ourselves in the doctor’s office on the same day.
I went for my annual exam. Wayne went in because his ear was bothering him and he feared it was infected. (As an avid swimmer, it was something that happened to him now and again.)
I went in and everything went as it was supposed to. No weirdness.
Wayne went in and experienced SNAFU Central.
I don’t know what started the confusion. We have different last names so our charts never should have crossed paths at all. I have a feeling he mentioned something about being my husband and my name stuck in the front desk person’s head when she went to retrieve files.
She comes back, leads Wayne to his exam room, but hands him a cup and points to the bathroom.
“You’ll see the deposit box to slide it through. Come back here when you’re done.”
Urine sample? Deposit box? He was befuddled. He’d never had to give a urine sample for an ear infection exam before. But he did as he was told.
The doctor came in, examined his ear, confirmed it was infected, noted it on his chart…and then saw they were waiting on results from the urine sample. If this struck her as odd, she didn’t let on. She just told Wayne to wait while she checked on it.
She came back with a prescription that would clear up both his ear infection and urinary tract infection.
“Urinary tract infection? How’d I get that?”
So she went on to explain the ways a man could get one of those. One of which was via sexual intercourse. Of course upon learning that Wayne called me right away.
“Thanks for giving me your cooties. You have anything you want to share with me?”
“What are you talking about?”
He told me what the doctor had told him.
“Well, I hate to tell you this, but you didn’t get it from me. I had to give a urine sample today too, but mine was clear. You must have gotten it from someone else. Which makes the real question: is there something you want to tell me? ”
“Let me call you back.”
He was sure I was to blame. (Naturally. If something’s broke I’m the first one the finger gets pointed at.) But if I was clear, why’d he have it? He called the doctor to find out.
The doctor assured him it was likely related to his ear infection and had spread. Simple as that. She also mentioned how they don’t normally check urine samples in ear infection cases but it was lucky they had and caught it when they did. He wouldn’t experience any discomfort down there now.
We believe the reason they tested him like that was because the girl had my chart to begin with and got the cup out. But who knows what really happened? It just ended up being a wonderful thing for me to bust Wayne’s chops about.
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