Pass the effing sedatives

I had an appointment at the Royal Ottawa Hospital today to see my sleep doctor. This is the place with the small parking lot right in front of the main entrance, where every time I go I can't quite believe how easy it is to park.

Until today.

I don't know if it was a two-electro-convulsive-therapy-treatments-for-the-price-of-one Cyber Monday thing  (yeah, I shouldn't make jokes about the fact that the Royal Ottawa is for crazy people, except EVERY SINGLE PERSON I told I was going there for sleep stuff made jokes about me going to the Crazy People Hospital, and apparently if you're in a group you're allowed to make fun of the group, so...) but today the front parking lot was completely full, and there were cars parked all along the drive that led to.... nowhere. It looked like it should lead to more parking, because the lot in front is really quite small, but there was a staff parking lot, and a maintenance-and-delivery parking lot. You really had no choice but to drive along this path looking for a parking place, and then there was really no convenient place to turn around. There was a road that went nowhere, blocked with a concrete slab, so you could either make a fifteen-point turn or back up for half a kilometre, and then there was a big delivery truck I came face to face with and had to turn around in front of.

Did I mention I have pretty big anxiety issues?

There was another parking lot across the driveway that said private parking lot, which I thought maybe just meant more expensive, and I would have paid almost anything at that point, but I got over there and realized it was just a parking lot for some business that put its parking lot right beside the hospital parking lot just so they could experience great hilarity at the expense of hospital patients. Also, I almost slid into another car while trying to get out of that schadenfreude-laden parking lot, because did I mention it snowed a bunch last night?

My appointment was at 10:30. I got there at 10:20. At 10:40 I was still driving around trying to figure out what to do. Bursting into tears and going home was high on my list of preferential options. Heading for the nearest Tim's and filling my van with doughnuts was a close second.  I thought I should probably at least call the doctor's office and let him know what was going on.

Did I mention I forgot my phone?

I took one more pass. There was one spot. I would have to parallel park.

Did I mention I don't parallel park?

I took a first run at it. Ended up with my rear bumper against the curb and my nose sticking out into the drive. I thought maybe I'd misremembered where i was supposed to start relative to the other vehicle, so I took a second run. It was even worse. I figured I was remembering correctly how to do it, and remembering even more correctly that I sucked hard at it. I took a deep breath. There was no one coming down the drive behind me, so I took it as a sign. I tried once more. Now I will have to stop mocking movies where they do the big fake two-failures third-time's-a-charm thing, because I parallel parked that motherfucker like a rock star('s professional chauffeur). I got out and stood there gaping in admiration for a long moment even though I was later than I've ever been for a doctor's appointment by now.

Then I had my appointment and I've always liked this doctor but it was never more apparent than today that we just really don't speak the same language. He kept asking me things like "do you feel more rested in the morning? How much more? Is your reading comprehension better? How much better?" Um.... thirty-six percent? What do you want from me, Dude? I was sitting there feeling a bit demoralized that I don't feel that much better yet. And THEN he says, "well, the benefit from a CPAP machine really maximizes at four to six months". THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN HELPFUL INFORMATION TO HAVE UP FRONT, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

He's a nice man. I hope I never have to see him again.