The form I wanted was in the rack below the records window.
I had returned the borrowed spare cup to the hall after breakfast. This evening I had gone to the window first. The clerk pointed down without putting aside the page he was checking, and I found a small stack marked Procedure Scope Addendum. Yesterday's directions had brought me to the right place. I had still been prepared to explain why I needed a different sheet.
I read one while standing out of the queue. Proposed procedure. Decision. Extension. At the bottom, smaller print said that limiting a procedure did not certify the examination complete or establish fitness.
I read that part again.
People kept passing close enough that I had to turn the page away from their coats. I moved farther along the wall. From there I could see the clerk reach for another patient's form without looking toward me.
