I was napping yesterday when at about 5:30 the telephone woke me and rang and rang as I slowly inched towards it. It was the doctor, who said the lab had told him that I 'hadn't been able to open the specimen jar lid so it arrived in the incorrect container' and they couldn't do the tests. I was like, 'Huh? Dude! It was a plain plastic container that in no way did I have trouble with. It took a minute, actually before I understood what he was talking about and he understood what I was talking about, then he said, 'Hmmm, that wasn't the right container, then.' Doctor: Well, if it's getting better... Me: It isn't, it is zigzagging. Upshot, no test, I'm meant to call on Friday to relate how I am (what is going to be so enlightening about waiting a couple of days?), and I can't help but conclude the last visiting nurse, who gave me the container and subsequently took the sample to the lab, lied about it* to the lab not realising the lab would tell the doctor and the doctor would tell me.
I guess I'll just 'see what happens' and maybe it will 'go away by itself.' *Frowns* That's my default procedure, and it was hard for me to keep after the medical solution, so I'm annoyed that it seems to require some type of supernatural whininess that I don't possess to make this happen.

* Something like:
Lab: Oh, hey, this is the wrong container.
Nurse: Oh, um, she couldn't open the other kind so we gave her that type. 
Lab: We can't do the tests...
Nurse: Try! 
Lab: Uh...
Nurse: ...
(I was wrong, of course.)