What condition my condition is in

I went for a chest x-ray this morning — I HAD MY REASONS SO JUST SHUT IT — anyway, I left my house at 7:30am, hoped on my bike to make it for the 8:00am x-ray place opening. What a beautiful time to leave the house, who knew! No traffic, a cool breeze as the sun was not yet shinning it's hot, hot rays. I weaved through the side streets all the way from Landsdowne to Yonge Street, cutting through Yorkville, oh hello rich people, arriving at the x-ray place. I checked in and sat down to wait. I barely got to the masthead of More Magazine — a magazine celebrating women over 40, which at first I thought how will I relate to this, then realized, oh right — when the doctor called my name. "Mrs. Watson. Mrs. Watson". I figured he meant me as there were only 2 other people there and 1 was male. I picked up my bike basket and went through to the changing area. The technician said of my bike basket 'oh, I thought that was a baby' as he ushered me into a changing room 'here you go Mrs. Watson'. I told him it's Miss, he didn't seem to care. I wondered if it was a sign, the Mrs, the baby, the over-40 magazine? I left wondering, thinking and walked out the door and banged right into this old man — oh my god, I'm so sorry, so sorry. He looked at me, smiled and said 'that's ok young lady'. And I was back to normal, so to speak.