“It’s my Hippo form.”

my daughter responded to her girlfriend’s inquiry about the piece of paper in her hand.

Due to a snafu by the administration at Anna’s high school...the nursing program that she had been assured she was in senior year, that was on her schedule given to her at the end of her junior year; and, again, on her schedule that we picked up during registration two weeks ago....she was never registered for.

After an anxious week and a half, many tears and several we-will-get-this-fixed phone calls, she moved up the “wait list” and was accepted into the program.

That acceptance started a flurry of check writing and appointment making.

One of those appointments was at the local health department, where she would be given a drug screening and the first of a two-step TB test.

It was after checking in for the appointment that she was given this form.

“What did you call that?” I had to ask.

“My Hippo form.”

“It is not a HIPPO form...it is a HIPAA form...Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act.” I explained.

Hopefully, learning and understanding the proper terminology will be one of the first things this nursing program makes her do.

otherwise....a career at the zoo?