cut a slice

Friday, February 25, 2011
Today, exactly one year after Dad's stroke,

I took Mom for a needle biopsy.

We both distinctly remember my asking:
how many stitches or steri-strips will she have?
NONE!
right.

They cut and placed a (never mentioned) titanium clip
to mark the otherwise too tiny spot.
She was quite annoyed with them.
(the fact they wouldn't let me come down with her,
 and then kept asking her questions
and
then were not able to understand her answers.
I was annoyed,
because they then asked me the questions
in the Waiting Room . . .
next to other people.
HIPAA?)