Jerks to No Emotion Irene!

Monday we were at the doctor all day.  Everyone was super nice.  Except.  Irene.  Irene was the receptionist at the front desk of the Cancer Center.  From the moment she said "hello" I knew we weren't going to do well together.  There was something about her demeanor that rubbed me the wrong way.  Nurse Betty had requested we arrive early in order to have time to stop by breast imaging for photos of my right breast.  When we arrived early, Irene had no idea what on earth was going on, nor did she feel the need to attempt to find out.  She handed me check-in papers and pointed to the waiting room, where she told us to wait.  Wait for what?  Anxiety and emotions were running high and Irene did her best to amplify them.

Fast forward to 2.5 hours later, we had already met with the surgeon and hung out in breast imaging for far too long.  After finally being allowed to leave the breast imaging center, complete with VERY IMPORTANT paperwork notifying me about how dense my breasts are, we were faced with the decision of whether to go to the Cancer Support Group meeting or skip it and eat lunch.  Nurse Betty had informed us lunch was more important than the support group, so I was going with that.  As followers of rules though, we thought we should double check back in at the main cancer center before we took off for a leisurely lunch.  Huge mistake.  We got off the elevator and who was there waiting for us?  Irene.  We had the audacity of disturbing her during her very important task of filling the coffee pot.  I stopped mid step knowing this conversation was not going to end well.  I explained what had happened, "Due to my dense breasts (I have paperwork to prove it, if you want to see it!) we were held up downstairs.  We were told it was okay to miss the meeting, and lunch was more important.  Might be five hours before we can eat again.  Yadda yadda yadda."

Holding the empty coffee pot and a napkin, with no emotion, Irene looked at me and said, "Well, if you're not here at 1pm when they call your name you can't go in."  I looked at the clock, 12:45pm.  "Well, what if we run and get some food and come back, can we sneak into the meeting a few minutes late?"  No Emotion Irene looked at me and repeated what she previously said, "They have a list of names they call at 1pm for the meeting.  You need to be here when they call your name."

All day I was able to hold it together, until Irene.  She made me so upset I didn't know what to do.  In a daze, I followed my mom and Matt to the cafeteria.  Amid the hustle and bustle of the lunch hour traffic I broke down.  For the most part, up until this point, I had held back my tears, but Irene knew just what to do to make a girl cry.  When asked by my mom and Matt what I wanted to do (they meant either relax and eat lunch or try to make it to the cancer support group) all I could respond with was, "I want to punch Irene!"