The Trial Run

I'm napping on Friday afternoon, the activity of choice for non-class days, when I start dreaming that the phone is ringing. Figuring it wasn't worth hopping out of bed for, I ignore it. Then my cell phone rings. Then the house phone. Then the cell phone and the house phone at the same time. So I decide maybe I should get one of them.

I choose the cell phone, and it's my sister. She tells me she's on her way to my house and I should be ready to leave in 2 minutes because we're on the way to her doctor's office since she called him and he thinks she's in labor. This is shortly after the lunch where we discussed her suitcase, but I figure now is not the time to joke that I have not packed my bag for the hospital and am not prepared to go. Instead, I spend about 1 min trying to make my hair stop standing out completely on the side of my head and 50 seconds calling my mom back and explaining that; yes I am going to the doctor with A, and no, I promise I won't let her drive herself.

So A arrives, I get to drive her mini-car (i.e. the Chevy Aveo) and she spends the whole 30 min ride telling me how she's going to feel like a moron if she gets there and it's nothing, and I have to spend 30 minutes appeasing her and reminding her that it was her doctor who told her to come in. And then we spent 10 min on the phone explaining to my mom that we'll call her as soon as we know anything. At which poing I assure my sister that they're probably on tier 5 of the church prayer chain by that time.

When we get there, she's the only person there, and she informs me that in all the times she's been to his office, she's never seen another patient there. At which point I wonder if this has never made her nervous and make a note that if for some godforsaken reason I end up living in the Jesus Town at a point when I'm expecting, I will never pride myself on being this doctor's only patient.

Anyway, long story short, he comes, he sees her, tells her it's nothing and to come back on Tues. My sister now feels like that woman who rushes to the hospital thinking she's in labor when she only has heartburn. I made her feel better by taking her to the Spaghetti Shop, (which is a big step since she loves the place and I hate it) and ordering her extra garlic bread to take home with her. Who says I'm not a good fill-in?