All right, we’re back–blood test, X-ray, what have you, etc., etc. I have managed to eat lunch.
Don’t get me wrong: the staff at JFK Hospital is really nice. It’s not their fault I seem to be developing some kind of medical phobia. (“They’re gonna find somethin’ they didn’t see before, they’re gonna keep me here–!”) It seems like every time I think I’ve no more biz at the hospital, they haul me back.
Ah, look at this, the sun came out. Maybe I ought to smoke a cigar and calm down.
You got through it ok, and that, in and of itself, is a victory.