I just had a blood test yesterday. Not by choice. Doctor’s orders.
The blood test was at 8 a.m.
After they drained my arm, I hopped into my car and went on with my daily life. You know - work, creating unique ads and copy for various cell-phone, pharmaceutical and retail companies, day-dreaming about not working, running, drinking a cocktail or two and - more importantly - contemplating my life.
You see, the night before, I had just heard from a friend that Adam Yauch (MCA from The Beastie Boys) was diagnosed with cancer. So, suffice to say, I was feeling a little weird about life, death, giving blood, and the pursuit - or the end - of happiness.
In any event, around 4 p.m. my cellphone rang. It was a number that I didn’t recognize.
Out of curiosity, I answered.
“Hello, Mr. Eimer?” The voice on the other end said.
“Yeah?” I asked thinking it might be a telemarketer.
“Uh, yeah, this is Doc Brown.”
My eyes perked up. “Oh hey! How’s it going?”
“Um, not so good. We received your package today.”
“Really?” I said. “That was fast. They said it would take a couple days for the results.”
“Mmm, yeah,” the man said on the other line. “I’m afraid we have some very bad news.”
The blood drained out of my head. My heart started to pound.
“Hold on a sec.”
I was driving, so I decided to pull into the next available driveway to brace myself for the bad news to come.
I swallowed, regained my composure and calmly put my face to the phone.
“What is it?”
“Well sir, I opened your order, here and -"
For a split second, my mind shot out all the possibilities. Was it Leukemia? Diabetes? Crohn's Disease? The big C?
"Annnnd?" I asked.
"And....well, I'm sorry to say this, but none of your pictures turned out.”
Wha? Pictures? Order? Package? Could this be some sort of cruel joke?
“What pictures, exactly, are your referring to?” I asked. "X-rays or something?"
"No, no X-rays," he said. “The black and white film roll that you dropped off last week."
My mind went blank.
“Who is this, again?” I asked.
The guy seem perturbed. “Doc Brown from McCallister Photo.”
“You’re a doctor?”
“Nope," he said. "That’s just what they always called me.”
I let out a deep sigh, thanked the man, hung up the phone and smiled.
That was the best bad news I heard all week.
Hell, I'd even wager all year.