Name adventures: Part II
Series: What's in a Name?
In which Shauvon is accepted to college, and visits a pulmonologist.
In 2004, I was accepted to Purdue University. It was a pretty exciting moment in my life. Well, not that exciting, I suppose, considering they accept somewhere around 50,000 new students every year. That was before I realized I didn't really want to get a degree in Computer Graphics Technology, so I was getting a degree in Computer Graphics Technology. I will always remember opening my acceptance letter. They came one day when I was at school. I say "they" because there was, in fact, two letters addressed to my house. One of them was for me, Shauvon G. McGill.
The other was addressed for Sauvon G. McGill
That was a new one. I've had letters missing, changed, repeated, and mangled in my name before, but I'd never had the 'h' missing. Of all the phonemes in the name Shauvon, the voiceless palato-alveolar fricative ('sh' as in 'wash' or 'fish') is the easiest to remember.
The two acceptance letters were stapled together and taped to my bedroom door for quite some time.
A year later, the summer before my sophomore year of college, I had some lung problems, so I went to see a pulminologist. That was still before I realized I didn't really want to get a degree in Computer Graphics Technology, so I was still getting a degree in Computer Graphics Technology. That meant that I sat around all day working with computer graphics. I was out of shape, and as a result, my lungs weren't too excited about me jumping on my bike after lazing around all summer. If I had known that I would be relieved of my bike in just a few months, I wouldn't have worried about it. Anyway, the pulminologist had his receptionist set up appointments for several outpatient tests. The receptionist was a rather, well, dull woman.
"Ok, what's his name." She talked to my mom, like I was 9, and not 19, years old.
"Shauvon," my Mom said. It's a combination of Shawn and Steven, she would tell me later that day.
The receptionist called in the first of the appointments. "I need an echocardiogram for a 'Savron.'" She missed the voiceless palato-alveolar fricative.
"No, it's 'Shauvon.' 'SHo-VIN'"
"Sha. . . SHA-VON" That would have to do. She called in the next one. "I need a pulmonary function test for a 'Shalvo'"
After a moment in which my mom and I both tried not to laugh at this poor mentally challenged woman, we corrected her. "It's Shauvon. SHo-VIN!"
"I need an appointment with a heart specialist for a 'Shalvron'"
It went on like this for a while.
Later, after my Mom re-scheduled all of the appointments because nobody had the right name, I was able to have several specialists tell me that there was nothing wrong with me.
A few days later, we found out that the insurance company wasn't going to cover any of the tests. They mentioned something about a Sauvon McGill not being on our plan.
They forgot the voiceless palato-alveolar fricative.
