I was at St. Joseph's Hospital yesterday for some tests. When I went to register in the waiting room, the woman asked for my blue card.
My blue card?
Yes, your hospital card, your blue card.
I don't have one. How do I get a blue card?
She looks at me and says, I'll just print off another one for you.
What do you mean, another one? Did I used to have one?
She looks at me sympathetically. Yes, you had one.
Then she asks me some questions about next of kin. She wants a name to contact in case something happens, er, in case I don't answer my phone.
I start wondering about these tests I'm supposed to do. Are they life-threatening?
I give her Isaac's name.
She asks, Is that I, double-s, a, c?
No, I say, it's I, s, double-a, c.
She smiles and says, That's what I said.
I wonder what she actually types on her computer.
A few moments later she has printed off my blue card and hands it to me. Isaac's name is not there, I will never know what she typed.
The card looks new to me, I am sure I never had a blue card before.
But now I do.
Fortunately, the tests are not lethal, no one has to call Issac. Or Isaac.