I'm sufficiently over the bronchitis (still need to get back to full form, but part of that is having not really exercised for about three weeks), so I went up to St. Joseph's Hospital, in Yonkers, to get my shoulder X-rayed. This is my doctor's standard place to send people--they have a decent walk-in radiology clinic. It was particularly efficient today: I went to registration, put my name down, and was called before I'd had time to open my newspaper. Minimal bureaucracy--I confirmed that I still live at the same address and have the same health insurance as the last time I was there--and I was sent down to Radiology with an additional form.
The wait there was also brief. When I was called, the technician called "Vicki Rosen—" and I got up and said "Rosenzweig." There's a way people have of stumbling over my surname that is fairly recognizable, and besides, what were the chances of one of the other six people there being named "Vicki Rosen[$something_else]"? He said I needed to take my bra off, but could keep my t-shirt instead of a hospital gown, so I did. Two X-ray views, a couple of minutes while he checked that they'd worked, and I was done.
My doctor should have the results in "a day or two", so I'll call her office on Monday afternoon.
Then I wandered around Yonkers a little bit--walked up South Broadway to Getty Square, stopped in at the branch of my bank there, and wandered a bit more. When I was ready to head back south, the first appropriate bus stop I found was the one by the hospital that I would have used if I hadn't gone for a walk. Rode a bit, hopped off [1], had some indifferent ice cream at a place that lured me in with a sign advertising fresh juice (the most appealing on offer, pineapple, wasn't really tempting), and then ducked into a 99¢ store. I now have lots of ponytail holders; must prepare a package for
papersky. Another bus to the subway, and thence to 181st Street for rye bread (planned), a mushroom knish by way of lunch, and salmon steak for tonight's dinner. I am now home, with some groceries, one slightly sore foot, and a very snuggly
julian_tiger.
[1] Westchester buses are free this month, to lure riders back after a lengthy bus strike. I was amused by a "Welcome back bus riders" sign in a store window in Getty Square.
The wait there was also brief. When I was called, the technician called "Vicki Rosen—" and I got up and said "Rosenzweig." There's a way people have of stumbling over my surname that is fairly recognizable, and besides, what were the chances of one of the other six people there being named "Vicki Rosen[$something_else]"? He said I needed to take my bra off, but could keep my t-shirt instead of a hospital gown, so I did. Two X-ray views, a couple of minutes while he checked that they'd worked, and I was done.
My doctor should have the results in "a day or two", so I'll call her office on Monday afternoon.
Then I wandered around Yonkers a little bit--walked up South Broadway to Getty Square, stopped in at the branch of my bank there, and wandered a bit more. When I was ready to head back south, the first appropriate bus stop I found was the one by the hospital that I would have used if I hadn't gone for a walk. Rode a bit, hopped off [1], had some indifferent ice cream at a place that lured me in with a sign advertising fresh juice (the most appealing on offer, pineapple, wasn't really tempting), and then ducked into a 99¢ store. I now have lots of ponytail holders; must prepare a package for
[1] Westchester buses are free this month, to lure riders back after a lengthy bus strike. I was amused by a "Welcome back bus riders" sign in a store window in Getty Square.
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I should head downtown for some Turkish delight and then make up a package.
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My sympathies on your pains
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It looks easy to me
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to that many consonants in a row, especially if they include something vaguely unnatural like a zw. I don't have a problem with Rosenzweig, but one more consonant might have been too many for me.
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You'd think my last name, being more uncommon, would be trickier, but it's not usually. Though once a prescription at the local drugstore seemed to be taking an awfully long time to fill. As it turned out, it had been sitting in the bin behind the counter for awhile, but the pharmacist on duty had filed it as "Tundis" rather than "Fundis."