Best Not To Be Anxious!

A recent echo cardia something or other also revealed imperfectly a possible cyst on my liver, so I have been scheduled for a sonogram, I believe it is called.  I am unusually vague about the proceedings since the scheduling staff member caught me on the telephone whilst I was busy at my primary care doctor's office officially requesting the forwarding of my medical history to a doctor in Florida.  It is always dicey when I accept instructions by telephone rather than having an email or some other written communication before me since my memory for verbal instruction is extraordinarily faulty.  As it was I took down hastily on the back of an unused check in my checkbook the relevant information.  The instructions for arrival were preceded by the important fact that I must not ingest anything after ten o'clock at night and then in the morning between 7 and 7:15 drink 32 oz of water and present myself at 8 at an address she gave me where my very bloated and full bladder will be part of the x-ray photo taken.  Or at least that is what I gleaned from her remarks.  An attempt later to call back and verify the instructions were stymied by an answering machine which said "do not attempt to consult with anyone in this office, seek information from the person who authorized this appointment."  Well, that didn't go very far, so I am left with the instructions to appear at 8 at an address which is in an industrial park, where I have luckily been before twice so that I at least have some notion of what is involved, because frankly at my age the thought of holding all that liquid for that length of time part of it consumed with the nervous making drive through the winding roads of Boston's South Shore, relics of its colonial past, in turns and narrows and every other impediment to sensible driving is worrisome.  This industrial park is not a pattern of winding lanes but rather a wide open space devoid of anything older than ten or fifteen years, in some a developed area.  There are a number of medical offices that have sprung up in this area; it is the place to go for bone density scans, heart scans, all those technical features of modern medicine.  To my simplistic eyes the area is an unlikely site for medicine.  The buildings were obviously designed to be part of an industrial park and it seems that the financial collapse of 2008 put paid to that enterprise and the medical profession moved in.  Everything is grand and glass, and there are no cozy receptionists at the front door, just acre huge parking lots with signs at places saying "parking for elderly," and I guess you are to make the call yourself.  When I went to that area the first time I was put off by the street names, things like Production Boulevard, and Satisfaction Lane and Global Returns Alley,well I am making these all up, but that was what it was like (I kept thinking The Wall Street Journal had designed it all) and the many entrances, many corridors, and there were very few signs, and even fewer sightings of human beings and I kept thinking I was in a remake of "Alphaville."  I just wonder about all that piss sloshing around in me as I negotiate the drive, the parking, the hunt for the relevant entrance, office and  . . . . . oh, well, best not to dwell on it or I might have an accident right now!