My excursion to the doctor went reasonably well, though I may have to go back for a blood test. The only phlebotomist on schedule botched two patients while I was waiting and watching, so I left before my arms could be attacked and mangled in the fray. If I can't find and fax the results from clinical trial folks, I'll go back and submit, but on a day other than Friday (when, according to the struggling lab tech, there are more than just the one blood-procurer at the clinic). I came away with my refills, a year's worth no less, so that's a relief.
And now Lucy-the-cat insists on being attended, so I must hear and obey.