Personality counts. Especially in certain cases, like when you’re getting an ultrasound or another diagnostic test that may be cause for worry or concern. The technician who performed some tests on me yesterday had almost zero personality. She led me or rather shuffled to the exam room with me trailing behind. She opened the door and pointed to a paper “gown” that I was to put on. It wasn’t a really gown, but rather a sheet made of paper towel material.
She said, “Is that a dress?
“Yes,” I said.
“Take the dress and your bra off and put the gown on so it’s open in front.”
“Okay,” I said.
When she saw I was undressed with the giant paper towel wrapped around me, she said, “Lay on the table.”
A remake of “Lost in Love” by Air Supply was playing on her CD player / radio. One of my favorite love songs when I was a college freshman.
It seemed incongruous with the proceedings.
The technician begrudgingly pulled out the lower part of the examination table so my calves would not be dangling off the bottom. The table squeaked when she jerked it down, and it was still too short for me. I’m only 5’6″. How must it be for really tall people?
“I’m going to do the echo cardiogram first,” she said. “Lay on your side.”
“Okay,” I said.
She slathered gel on my chest and starting moving the wand over my flesh.
I felt like a canned ham covered in jelly.
“Now lay on your back,” she said.
The next song that came on the CD player/radio was another remake of an easy listening song.
After ten or fifteen minutes she said, “Now I am going to do the other test.”
“Okay.”
When it was done, she said, sans expression, “You can get dressed now.”
She didn’t offer me any paper towels to wipe off the goop, so I grabbed a few I found near the sink and used the paper towel “gown” to wipe off the rest.
“When will I get the results?” I asked.
“You can go to the front desk, and they will tell you.”
“Thanks.”
She didn’t turn around to convey the information to me.
As I said, personality does count. But as long as she’s good at what she does, I guess it doesn’t matter all that much.
Suburban Hobo 
No doubt she painfully self-conscious about being a replicant.
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Touche, Matt!
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Actually today I had my first ever MRI as a precaution. I don’t have claustrophobia, but I do have issues with anxiety, including panicking about panicking. Luckily the two technicians did have personalities, so there was only mild hyperventilating. 🙂
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I’m glad to hear it.
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Frankenstein’s office! Scary! Too much fluoride consumption, maybe? Did you check her back to see what size batteries she took? Maybe they were running low.
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Ugh. I agree with you about this. The only thing I can say in this person’s defense is that apparently some medical people just shut themselves down so that they don’t care too much. I guess if you were personally invested in every person who came in, it would be overwhelming. Of course, some medical professionals can handle that human connection just fine. But I guess this lady couldn’t. I think you handled it well and at least there was music, not just awkward silence? I hope you’ll get good results back. Thinking of you, over here.
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Erica, I’m sorry you had to experience that. A smile or words of kindness can mean so much. There should be training for that in the medical industry. I hope your tests results come back clear.
Joanne
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