Monday, February 23, 2009

When I grow up.....

When I grow up I want to be a doctor.  Seriously.  You all know I was sick last week.  It takes quite a bit to get me to the doctor, I hate going to the doctor.  But my face felt like it would explode, so I went.  I am glad I went, because the antibiotics worked and in a day and a half, I was feeling much, much better.  That being said.......

I get there ten minutes early for my appointment.  That is courteous and what I believe to be just the right thing to do.  It says that I respect other people's time.  It's about respect.  My appointment was at 1:10pm, so I got there at 1:00pm.  That was in case I had to fill out forms, etc.  They called me back at 1:25, fifteen minutes late.  The first thing they do is weigh me, rudeness to the extreme.  Then the nurse asks me a series of questions that are listed in the computer in front of her, then she lies to me and says the doctor will be in in a couple of minutes.  Liar.  At around 1:55, a doctor who looks about twelve years old comes in.  Calls me "young lady", like I am going to flattered or something.  He spends exactly three minutes asking me questions, listening to my chest, looking up my nose and then tells me I have a sinus infection.  Amazing, I told that to the office gal that answered the phone this morning.  

So I get the fact that we can't just diagnose ourselves and prescribe meds to ourselves.  That could be dangerous.  Especially to us mothers, we would prescribe valium on a regular basis just to get through some of our roughest days.  I get that.  But if you are going to bill my insurance $200.00 dollars, I deserve some time, for you to be on time, and at the very least, a little consideration.  Sitting on that table for half an hour makes my back hurt.  I was afraid to lie down, my head could explode from the pressure.  When did all of this go haywire?  My mother in law waited three hours one day, then another hour in the back.  Really?  Four hours to run some routine tests to get the thyroid medication she has been on for years, but the doctor wants to "check" her every three months.  What the heck?

So, when I grow up I want to be a doctor.  I would not have to be on time, I would not have to spend a lot of time with sick people, and I would make six figures and up by the time I am 35.  I know, I know, I am generalizing everything.  And I know we need doctors and doctoring and all that stuff.  I just want my time to be respected.  I showed up on time, so should you.  It was not an emergency room.  I am pretty sure if something was horribly wrong with a patient, they could go up the hall to urgent care.  It's literally up the hall from my doctor.  And my doctor works in urgent care, so figure that one out.

Being on time or not on time is a pet peeve of mine.  What's yours?  Let me know.

God bless you and yours.

3 comments:

Dawn said...

You are so Dad. I didn't get that gene.

Kay Klebba said...

I am not dad. I will never send back a Pepsi because it does not taste like Pepsi. Or at least, not in front of you.

hiyahun said...

I have that same pet peeve. With my back problems I have an extremely hard time sitting on those little tables. I get there early as you do with 30 minutes past my appointed time and when I ask how much longer it will be I get" he will be spending the same amount of time with you, Just be patient" then I get into the room and wait 30 - 45 minutes longer and still he spend 3 minutes with me I feel rushed and nothing is solved. What do they do to get so far behind? Another is, 'Hey if you drop it pick it up....' my husband dropped a serious of things yesterday. One of which was dropped in front of me. I said are you leaving that for me or did you hire a house keeper. It is still on the floor. If I leave it there do you think the elves will get it for me????