“I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore.”
10-16-2019, 04:08 PM,
“I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore.”
Analysis Clinic/Laboratory in GTO beware! The public
rightly expects laboratories to be professionally maintained
and operated.

The way my sad tale unfolded today:

The urine-sample bathroom had no soap or towels.

There was no anti-bacterial container to be seen anywhere
on the premises.

The technician that would draw the blood was seated on
the floor when I arrived. From the floor she went directly to
the treatment room without dusting off her clothing or washing
her hands.

Most importantly, I twice told the receptionist that there were two
elements of the blood analysis that I definitely wanted included.

Later in the day when I returned for the analysis there were two
kids playing games on the floors of the hallway and treatment room,
including the bed. Easy as pie, whatever was on the floors was spread
all over the place.

The analysis results did not include the items that I twice (maybe
thrice) specified.

By email if you request I'll give you the name of the clinic to avoid.
10-16-2019, 07:57 PM, (This post was last modified: 10-16-2019, 07:58 PM by admin.)
RE: “I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore.”
The big question as far as I can see is why, if conditions were as unsanitary and unprofessional as you describe, did you even let them take a blood sample from you. Why didn't you just walk out? There is more than one clinical lab in GTO - you could have gone elsewhere.
10-23-2019, 08:42 PM, (This post was last modified: 10-23-2019, 09:09 PM by DonJuane.)
RE: “I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore.”
Hi Doyle, your guardian angel back to you. I've gotten the graphics department now working on your logo for the upcoming "Doyle Phillips Good Deed Presentation Award Ceremony". The ballroom has been rented and the invitations are being printed. Here we will present to you our honorary designation of ....

"Most Whipped Step-Child in the History of GTO"

But speaking of germaphobia, and I say that seeing the arguments from both sides, this is something that often comes to mind and especially sitting in my dentist's chair. And I am speaking of both my Mexico dentist(s) and US dentist(s). It seems always the practice with either that the inevitable "urgent phone call" comes in at which time the dentist all in fresh scrubs, gloves and mask is handed his or her cell phone by the associate as he takes the urgent call. By now I'm thinking, "wonder where THAT phone's been?". Turns out I was right after doing a little research https://time.com/4908654/cell-phone-bacteria/ .

It's really hard to win at the game of germaphobia. I always recall a realtor party (this one often referred to as the stickupyabutta group) and my spending an entire afternoon dicing tomatoes, and making a large pico de gallo to add at the correct mix level to the freshly ripened avocado mash I had constructed for the evening's celebration. My "famous guacamole" was to be one of the center pieces of a gathering of around 10 people. It was beautiful, it was perfectly green and it was looking good. It had just been served and I remember Michelle (can I say Michelle?) was watching me as I took the oversize chip and stuck it in the dip. It cracked with exactly half the chip falling into my mouth and my lips not passing the center line. I then rotated the large chip and dipped the other side of the circle in the guacamole and there she jumped up and pointed across the room, shouting at me as if I she had just witnessed me raping someone. In front of the entire crowd she said "I saw you!" "I saw you!" and she had terror all over her face (and that serious kind where you know this b-otch is not kidding). "What did he do, Michelle" some other guest asked, also looking at me as guilty before the crime was even announced. "I saw him with my own eyes, he double dipped". At that very moment, my giant dish of guacamole fell on poor popularity and was ultimately pushed to the side and never touched by another guest. I won't say what I wanted to then do with that guacamole but it ended up staying in my fridge until I got sick of eating it.

Other forced encounters and peer pressure caused me to sit down to a meal or two with Michelle after that but I soon after some time was able to graciously move out of her circle. Her constant sending back forks or napkins and waiter insults let me know later I was dealing with a true germaphobe but I don't think I ever quite got over the guacamole incident or the belittlement from that episode. What I wanted to ask her at the time was, what about the guy before me who may have been having trouble with his posterior and the itch cream had worn off? Is there any possibility that the chip he just rejected for a larger one may have fallen into your hands? I remember seeing a movie once as a kid and I can't find it because I just looked online but the movie was in black and white and the germs were in red and you were presented a microscopic view as you watched them spread over your entire environment and over the period of a few minutes. Still I suppose that maturity has caused me to think less about this incident over the years, because as I age I realize that most people who dish misery and condescending comments toward others are living in their own level of misery and actually, who the hell am I to step in and remind them of it. Michelle, it turns out will always be Michelle and I assuredly am gratefully not.

Then there's that time I remember in the tiny hospital of Patzcuaro, suffering there with severe hallucinatory dehydration after falling asleep in a windowless hotel room and sweating all night while not having hydrated properly earlier due to the small hotel I was staying being out of water with no open store nearby. I still remember thinking it was my last day to be alive as I lay on the tainted, soiled, sheet-less, pillow-less gurney looking like it came fresh out of a WWII bunker. I also remember my difficult to focus eyes seeing the two young men on adjacent gurney's cut open from a knife fight and watching that nurse walk up to me, unzip the pack and slip the IV into my vein. But the part I will always remember best is what looked like the largest pair of lawn sheers I'd ever seen, maybe even a foot and a half long being slipped into the double swinging door handles which would keep any individual from bursting into where all the various stages of medical assistance was being levied to those in need. I have to say I don't pray that often but that night was one night I did and while wondering what types of varmints might be swimming around inside me the next morning and assuming I would even be there the next morning.

So it's really hard to say what's filthy and what's not. Experts say (and I have as much respect for experts as I do Michelle) but they say the dirt is good for us. I'm sure that really doesn't matter though because it's always up in there, somewhere and following us it seems, at any cost. Otherwise if you admire the illusion of cleanliness presented my modern medical institutions, the Chopo seems to be a relatively pretentious place in that area.

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