|But sometimes worrying is good for you|
It is not the freaking out kind of last week but more of a low level that is probably a good thing: a survival instinct keeping me on alert.
I took the appropriate steps, filing a complaint and writing a negative review on the website of the Prevalent transportation company. Also, Hannah in the Dana-Farber resources department said she would follow up.
When I got the automated call last night saying which company is picking me up, it was Prevalent again. I called the number and said to not send that driver because I won't get in the car with him.
I'm going to have a bag packed and a full tank of gas in case I need to drive. Since I lose some blood during the procedure and also because, even though I often doze, it's not a real sleep, I wouldn't want to drive home when I'm done, which is usually about 6:45, so I talked to Diane about sleeping there if I need to.
Some people have asked if this transportation arrangement is worth the hassles. Well, it is, because I wouldn't feel safe driving home afterwards. As stated before, except for the one who left without me because he wouldn't go down my driveway, all the rest have been fine; we've even had some interesting conversations.
The problems really stemmed from The Ride and mixups between the two different cab companies driving me to Newton or Needham, but now that I am done with that I hope it will go more smoothly...as long as the psycho driver doesn't come.
But first, a little relaxing tennis on at the Canoe Club to hopefully let off some anxiety and get tired enough so that a nap will come easily when I have that big needle in my arm. I'm so glad I joined. It was inexpensive and it is a great group of people, serious enough to want to have a good game but not taking themselves too seriously.
Actually there are some real jokers in the group, such as one man, Char, who makes fun of an idiosyncrasy of mine: If I miss the first serve and leave the first ball at the net, I always miss the second serve because it is a distraction in my peripheral vision. Sometimes I ask the other player to move it and then the player says don't worry it's not in the way and then I make a little fun of myself and say my concentration is too fragile to keep it there.
When Char is on the other side and a ball rolls to the net, he has taken to moving it to various spots such as putting it on a post or moving it to just under the net and asking with a big smile, "Is that OK, is that OK?"
Tennis+laughing=a good time.