I need more tinfoil

Phone call I received last Monday from a unknown caller.

Me: Hello?

UK: Hello, can I please speak to Mindy.

Me: Speaking.

UK: Oh, hello.  How are you doing today?

Me: Good.

UK: Feeling better now?

Me: Huh? I feel fine?

UK: Huh?

Me: What?

UK: I was just calling to see how you were doing today.

Me: I'm fine.

UK: Good. Much better than last Friday?

Me (thinking): WTF?
Me (saying): I don't know.  WHO IS THIS?

UK: Uh, this is _____ clinic.

Me: What?

UK: The urgent care clinic.

Me: What?

UK: This is Dr. ____

Me: What?

UK: You came in last friday with severe nausea and diarrhea.

Me: What?

I am suddenly horrified that something happened to me that I have no memory of.  Did I go on some drunken bender and wake up in a gutter.  Was I abducted by aliens?  Are there clones of me running around?  Was I in some secret government medical project that I know nothing about?  Is this how it starts?  With a phone call?  I start to panic.  Where is my tinfoil hat, dammit?

Me: I did?  No, I didn't.  I'm fine.

There is no response for a few seconds.

Me (scared): Are you sure I was there?

UK: You're Mindy, right?

Me: Yes.

UK: Mindy _____?

Me: No, I'm a different Mindy.

UK: Oh God.  Sorry.

Me: Wait, so there's another Mindy out there running around with diarrhea and we have the same phone number?

UK: Umm....this is the number she gave me.

Me: Jesus, that's weird.

UK: Uh-huh.

Me: Well, anyway, I'm fine.

UK: Okay, sorry to bother you.  Goodbye.

Me: Bye.

I hang up the phone and stare out the window.  Then I grab the Reynolds wrap out of the drawer.  Gotta go make my hat.  You can't be too careful these days.  What with all the clones and zombies.

I realized this could be the first page of a movie screenplay.  A really awful, horrible movie.