On Time For My Non-Appointment

I had a doctor's appointment yesterday. Well, at least I thought I did. 

I received a text Wednesday reminding me to be at the doctor's office at 8 AM Friday. Try as I may, I couldn't find the paperwork for it; I typically get a sheet telling me who I'm seeing, what's to happen, what to bring, and so on. So, okay, I must have lost it. I resolved to be at the Detroit Medical Center Friday morning.

Having been informed through the text to arrive twenty minutes early, I walked into the lobby at about 7:35. I was told by security, "You can't go up to registration (which was on the second floor) until 7:45." That makes it kind of hard to be 20 minutes early for an 8 o'clock appointment, but so it goes.

Allowed upstairs promptly at 7:45, I was called by a clerk to her workstation. I presented my driver's license as I.D. Typing into her computer the woman remarked, "Um, you just had a sonogram of your heart January 9, Mr. Cosgriff."

"Yeah, I know that," I replied.

"This says you have one scheduled today. I can't imagine why." She paused. "Maybe I should check before processing your appointment."

A few minutes later she returned. "I'm very sorry, Mr. Cosgriff. We scheduled this appointment inadvertently. Your sonogram was great and you don't need another." She paused again. "The med tech said she called and left you a message about it."

"Oh, I must have missed it, I suppose." I took my cell from my coat pocket, where I had left it on silent to not disturb anyone during registration or while seeing the doctor. Pulling up the call log I noted that the med tech had indeed left a voicemail. At 7:46 that very morning. 

Why even bother by that, uh, time? You're calling me at that late point to tell me I don't have to show? Where do you think I'd be fourteen minutes before an appointment that I was expected to arrive twenty minutes ahead of (even though I couldn't register until fifteen minutes before)? Just tell me when I get there. It's what happened anyway.

So while I had no necessary appointment, my heart had a workout just the same.

In Defense of the Dad Principle

The other day I wrote about how hung up on time I thought me Pops could be. But in defense of the Dad Principle of Worthy Timekeeping, there's a lot to be said for it.

You can mark time but it's difficult (and generally impossible) to make it up. If you're fifteen minutes early, what? You twiddle your thumbs for a little bit, that's all. But if you're fifteen minutes late, you're just late.

What can that mean? You could have to reschedule a critical appointment. You might lose a job, or perhaps miss out on a good sale or other opportunity. If you miss a plane, train, or automobile you could miss a family holiday or function, or an important business meeting. 

Then there's always - I will say it - you won't get the best seat at an event, or the best parking space, the one where it's easiest to bug out when the show's over. Real Dads understand the importance of egress.

Sure, you don't want to go overboard. Yet early beats late. It's simply a dad maxim.

Nowhere Near Late

I woke up this morning, and my first thought was panic. 'Shoot! I missed my alarm',  I thought.

Only I hadn't missed it. I'm going to Indianapolis tomorrow, not today.

Of all the things that had never happened to me, that was the most profound never had happened. I can't even imagine why it happened or how it even managed to come into my mind. 

I knew quite well as I drifted off last night that Wednesday I had a sales trip and that today was only Tuesday. In fact I knew clearly my battle plan for today, mentally reviewing it as I lay in bed. Install a KC-8 shaft in a Model C, rewire a second Model C; there were two machines which needed new cables, and I wanted to email my next order to the factory. A straightforward work day.

Thank goodness today is just Tuesday. 

It is only Tuesday, right?