My Social Security Number

"You forget to put social security number," the nurse said in an eastern European accent. She was pointing to my file.

I had already discussed this at the front desk, and I wasn't anxious to do go thru it again.

I don't give out my social security number.

She tried to explain why they need it, and I tried to explain why they don't and why I don't want to surrender it.

But you know, this is HIPPA, she said. She pointed to my file and tapped it. This is safe.

She wouldn't relent. Every time I tried to explain, she kept insisting that my social security number was safe with them. The room began to feel hot. Finally, I looked at her and asked, Do you want me to leave?

A horrified look came over her face.

No, no! she said. I am not from this country. I need to learn.

Of course this broke the ice immediately.

I smiled, and we proceeded to talk for a few minutes as she took my blood pressure. She had never heard of anyone reluctant to give their social security number. She began to ask a lot of questions.

I'm a bit odd when it comes to this, I said.

What is that, odd?

Strange.

She nodded, but our conversation had to stop. There was a knock on the door, and someone poked their head in. She waved for them to come in and gave me an embarrassed look and quickly left the room.

And that was the end of that.

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