Apparently, back in May, someone's Dad called to cancel their appointment for tomorrow. And they thought that someone was OUR Dad. Cancelling the appointment for OUR Chickster.
In another dimension, that could be conceivable. But here, in this one, it's nearly impossible. Our Dad doesn't do those things. When it comes to things such as scheduling appointments, he sticks to his business stuff and his haircuts and leaves the rest to me. And he certainly wouldn't have called the doctor's office in order to do that.
But since they don't know who it actually was, there's nothing they can do except reschedule us for the end of next week. I wanted to suggest that they call all their patients still scheduled for tomorrow, find out who it really was that cancelled, and give us their spot.
But as I was already fuming, that suggestion probably would've come across rather, well, unkind.
I am less than happy. The main reason for having Chickster's appointment so close to the first of the month was so that he would be completely healed by his birthday. We're not going to make it now. And if we push it back any more, that will put us with another surgery right before Christmas.
So I guess I'll just deal with it. And maybe we'll go swimming tomorrow instead.
I know you were frustrated by their incompetence, but it was a nice swimming day!
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