Dr. Hades reappears 27 years later -- Again, I am in the wrong room

When last we left me I was stranded on a gurney in an Arkansas ER after having quietly announced myself as an emergency. The doctor on duty, Dr. Hades, had missed school the year they talked about bedside manner and compassion.
At about the time I was starting to believe I was in a Twilight Zone episode, a tenuous throat-clearing brought me back to reality – or at least a commercial break.

It was the orderly, waving his empty plastic pee flagon at me. His bright facial expression was easy to read: Would I like to try again?

For at least a change of scenery I got up and agreed to “give it another whirl.”

After a bit of worrying, I finally managed to “make water,” as my British friends put it. The water in question was a tad pink; a vast improvement over the coloration an hour ago. I was feeling better.

After getting back on the gurney and waiting some more, Dr. Hades stepped in and said, “Your blood sugar wasn’t 800. That was someone else’s.” Mine was 240, he explained. Still pretty high. (Normal people usually have a level of 120 or so.)

“We found red blood cells in your urine,” he said.

“Yes, I know.” I said. “I saw them.”

Tests and two days in the hospital with a country singer roommate were inconclusive. It was hypothesized that my daily jogging on an empty bladder had caused the inside lining to rub against itself to the point of introducing red blood cells to the urine. “Hi, nice to see you. I don’t think we have ever met before, have we? Well, don’t be a stranger. Are you leaving now? Oh, so are wee!”
Being made to feel unwelcome is something rarely forgotten. For me, it is the quickest way to cause me to never come back again. It doesn’t matter how self-forgetful I am supposed to be, or high-minded, or ready to indulge another’s weakness.
To the point, it was easy for me to consider tortoise owners to be among the most friendly and all-embracing group in the world – not as much so as members of the International Jugglers Association, but, who can top them?

For the most part, I believe, I am right about tortoise owners.

As I have only had Ilarion for just over six weeks, it seemed wise for me to join a few Yahoo groups that were topically bound to the care of Russian tortoises.

One of the groups, not surprisingly, uses the name RussianTortoise. I name them here only because there are other Yahoo groups that address themselves to this particular tortoise, and a generic reference could cast an undue shadow on them.

A week ago I asked the group in question about diet, since tortoise diets differ from species to species.

A woman in the UK proceeded to beat me about the head and ears via her reply.

It was then I realized that Dr. Hades had transmogrified into a cranky, superior, resentful, unpleasant, huffy UK woman who ends her vitriolic e-tantrums with, “Sorry, but you asked.”

I am in one less group now, as I was in the wrong room there for a few days.