i hate making appointments. specifically anything involving a doctor.
it’s not like it used to be, where you call, make an appointment, and go see the doctor. things have become a little more, let’s say, complex.
say i have a sinus infection. i call the doctor. he can see you wednesday at 9am, fantastic, arrive 15 mins early, done, hooray.
ah, if only it were that easy.
you show up on wednesday and you fill out paperwork, most all of the fields duplicated in 18 of the previous pages. and you wait for another 45 minutes until the lady comes out and calls you back.
she weighs you, checks your height (yeah, okay. since i haven’t been five six since i was like 15 years old) and directs you into this room with 80 colored flags above the door that nobody knows what they’re for. she talks to you about what’s wrong, and you tell her. and THEN she tells you that you need to schedule another appointment to see the doctor *for the reason you called about*. little did you know, this first appointment was only a PREappointment, the appointment where they verify in person that you actually need what you called about needing. they prescreen, you see. and then you go and make the “real” appointment and you’re on your merry way until next thursday.
then thursday rolls around, and you’re almost dying of sinus issues, and you go in, sign some more shit (that hasn’t changed in the last 5 years, much less in the week since you’ve been in) and wait another 45 mins.
if you’re lucky, you get to see the doctor for 7 minutes of the hour and a half you spend there, but usually this appoinment is the one where you get to talk in depth to the nurse about your symptoms so that she can alert the doctor and he can figure out what course of action to take for your upcoming tertiary appointment, which hopefully will be your last and actually happen before you succumb to the sweet release of death. which may be the better option after the receptionist tells you they are scheduling out into may – hello!? it’s october!!
seriously, what happened to walking in, getting treated and leaving? do doctors really need this much planning? it’s not like their solutions are definitive anyway. they pretty much read your chart as they’re sitting down and shaking your hand without actually ever looking you in the face, and you’re freezing your ass off in a backless drape, despite that you came in for a swollen wrist.
i got my degree in theater, and aside from pretending like i could be a doctor, all i have to do is suggest antibiotics and chastise my patient about exercise, before signing a name that’s illegible to everyone including the signer:
“Your honor, I’d like to introduce exhibit C into evidence. These are chart notes from Ms. Anderson’s visit to Dr. Kearns’ office on the 5th of July. Dr Kearns? Please take a look at this chart for me. Do you recognize the signature at the bottom of the page?”
“Objection! How can the doctor not recognize his own signature?”
“Overruled, counselor. The doctor’s handwriting sucks.”
the medical profession makes me want to have an aneurysm. at this point, i’d sooner go to a mechanic for routine medical procedures, depending on his level of cleanliness. gojo orange or anti-microbial soap? it’s a serious toss up. plus, at a mechanic you can get your entire car rebuilt the same day instead of waiting three months with abdominal pains for “take some ibuprofen and come back to see me in 6 weeks.”
on another health related note, msnbc reported earlier this week that vitamins may cause cancer.
see people? i will continue drinking my rockstar and eating twinkies and your warnings of slow death will go unheeded.
go take your one-a-day. i’m making myself a bourbon and some pizza rolls.