Living Retired — Name Shame

Living Retired — ‘Name Shame’

By Non-Pulitzer Prize Winning Columnist Gary Chalk.

I think my doctor may have made a referral for me, but I am not sure, because I didn’t ask for a referral. Technically, you could say I asked for a referral, but not in the usual way. Confused? So was I! It was two weeks ago. This is what happened…

I was sitting in the waiting room when the nurse appeared in the doorway to the examination room. She called out the name of the next person to come forward. As I walked up, she said, “Sorry I said Mary. Not Gary.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you said Gary.” I smiled to Mary as she walked past me.

A few minutes later…

The nurse summoned the next patient. When I stepped forward the nurse said, “Sorry Gary. This time I called Barry.”

I laughed it off with the nurse and apologized to Barry as he walked past.

By now I was embarrassed. Other patients waiting were watching. I returned back to my seat.

Well damn it if it didn’t happen again…

The nurse reappeared at the door. This time she said, “Gary. It’s not you. It is Isabella.” The problem was when the nurse said “Gary” I immediately got out of my chair, only to sit back down when she told me it was Isabella.”

Isabella looked at me. The others in the waiting room looked at me. Me? I was mortified. I shrunk back down in my chair. Mary, Barry, but Isabella?

It was not long. The nurse arrived and said, “Okay now it is your turn, Gary.”

Just then my iPhone rang. It was Jan. She said “Bye Larry. Sorry Gary I was talking to Larry.”

“Don’t worry Jan, I don’t know if my name is Mary or Barry. For sure I’m not Isabella.”

“Gary, what on earth is going on?”

I told Jan I had to go and hung up. The nurse took my blood pressure and asked what I was seeing the doctor for.

“My torn rotator cuff and my knee injection. Ohh and my hearing.” The nurse laughed, “The doctor may refer you for a hearing test.”

That evening at dinner, Jan and I laughed about my experience. We also remembered many years ago when her father — Frank Clarke — had something similar occur at a store called Consumers Distributing where customers wrote by hand on a piece of paper what they wanted to purchase and gave it to a clerk who went out back to get the item. Customers waited at the counter for the clerk to return with their electric hand-mixer and call out their name. The concept worked, until it didn’t…

Jans father completed the form — and printed his name Frank Clarke. Soon, the clerk returned and called out “Clammers.” Nobody came forward. “CLAMMERS.” The customers looked at each other. One last time the clerk yelled, “FRANCIS CLAMMERS, I HAVE YOUR ELECTRIC HAND-MIXER!” This is when Frank Clarke realized he was Francis Clammers.

That’s it until next week.

Yours truly,

Mary,

Barry,

Isabella,

Francis Clammers…

Gary.

 

Living Retired is written by humour columnist Gary Chalk.

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