Why would I want to know?

I was supposed to get a call from the doctor* Thursday to let me know what the biopsy results were and what the course of treatment would be. I didn’t. So I called Friday and spoke with a receptionist at his office who was either very stupid or hated her job or had difficulties because English was her second language. Maybe it was all three.

She was initially quite willing to fax the results to me, only she couldn’t find the report. Maybe I wanted another report? Was I sure there was a biospy done? Did I get a copy of the procedure report? She got confused and a little snarky when I realized she mistakenly thought I was some doctor’s secretary and corrected her.

“No, I’m the patient,” I pointed out.

Long silence.

“Oh. Well, I can’t fax it to you then. You’ll have to wait until you talk to the doctor.”

“Okay. . . so do you have any idea when I can expect a call from him with the results? He was supposed to call me about this Thursday.”

“I don’t know. He’s not here today,” she said, all self-important.

“Is he in another office today? Is he in surgery? Is his secretary in?”

“No, he has today off. So does his secretary. They’re not working today.” She sounded amused. “Why do you even want the biopsy results? Can’t you wait?”

I was speechless at that question. Gee, I don’t know. Why would I want to know? Why would anyone want to know the results of a test that would indicate whether they had cancer or just some lifelong quality-of-life-affecting medical condition? Particularly with a family history of cancer? Why could there possibly be any urgency for me to know what was going on with my body and health?

I didn’t say anything. . . just stewed and thought about demanding to speak with her supervisor about the woman’s sheer lack of tact. Or asking her why she was willing to fax medical reports to unidentified people. Or why the hell she wanted to know why I wanted to know, anyway.

She must have realized that she’d crossed some sort of line, and came back with a conciliatory tone. “You can call the doctor Monday and talk to his secretary, our phones are on at 8:00 a.m. Actually, if you don’t hear from him, I’ll be in at 1:30 p.m. and you can call me and then I can fax it to you.”

Of course, she later called back and said she’d found the biopsy report, but it was unsigned, so she wouldn’t be able to fax it to me anyway, and I’d just have to wait to talk to the doctor.

Which was all I wanted in the first place.

*Not The Doctor.