The Friday after my last OB appointment, which was almost three weeks ago, the OB confirmed that they sent everything they had over to the perinatal specialist and they will call and give me an appointment. Give me they said. Not "set it up," or "schedule it," they will just call and give it. Yesterday I arrived home and found a letter from my insurance stating that my appointment with Dr. C has been approved by insurance. What the french toast? I have an appoinment? It said an 80 minute consult was approved. Holy bananas, 80 minutes is a long time and I do work for a living.
I asked my friend who has gone to this facility of specialists when they call. She said they just call the night before and tell you when you can come in. So I decided I had better call them to see. My appointment is Tuesday at 8:30 a.m. I said thank you and wrote it down, hung up. Then I was like, today is Friday and they weren't planning on calling me. Tomorrow is the weekend so they really just were going to call me the night before. I was a little ticked, but I have been interested in what happens there or what they will say, so I guess it's good that I have "Debbie Desperate" written across my forehead, as do probably most women in need of perinatal specialist. So whatev, can't complain.
My irritation was quickly replaced by joy. I get to see my babies on Tuesday when I hadn't expected to see them for almost a week after that! Yay yay yippee yay, I always love to see the babies! I couldn't find their heartbeats tonight, but it was because I ate a lot and all I could hear were the sounds of digestion, so I did not panic and will try again later. I'm just happy that I have another ultrasound coming up on the horizon.
In other news, I got called a bitch to my face today. Man, if I had a dollar . . . . . .