Dying of Curiosity
When I was in the waiting room at Humeston before my appointment with Dr. Baker, I'd taken along three envelopes to tape up/check for all the inclusions I wanted, etc. I did not think to add a pen, sure I had one in my purse. NOT. So I stepped out into the short hallway to get one from the receptionist. Dr. Baker, back to me, laptop resting on a short dividing wall between the hallway proper and the break room/kitchen area, was busily typing notes. The nurse, standing behind a table, was facing him, so eventually I came into her sight. She was talking.
"Is Sandra Hugus the one who..."
I was DYING to know how she'd intended to finish that sentence, but, of course, she saw me and stopped. Later, when we were done, I elliptically asked Dr. Baker about it, but he had no idea, logically enough. Or, maybe just none he would admit to.
"Is Sandra Hugus the one who..."
I was DYING to know how she'd intended to finish that sentence, but, of course, she saw me and stopped. Later, when we were done, I elliptically asked Dr. Baker about it, but he had no idea, logically enough. Or, maybe just none he would admit to.