Yesterday I went for my twice-a-year checkup. The appointment was for 9:15. The office opens at 9:00. I was called back at 9:45. Seriously. How can you get that far behind so early in the day?
My chatty nurse dragged me to the scale against my will. Then she herded me into the exam room and jammed a thermometer under my tongue while she talked about herself. She does this every time. I know all about her. I could have repeated her story back to her. Not that I mind. What else am I going to do with a thermometer jammed under my tongue? Then she asked about my prescriptions, one of which she had the dosage wrong. Funny how I tell them every time. And SHE'S the one who updates the records.
Just as she was pumping up my blood pressure cuff, Doc walked in with a young man trailing him. "You should have had that done by now."
"Maybe you should do it yourself."
"We're way behind. It should have been done."
"I'm working as fast as I can. And one of her prescriptions was wrong!"
"I can't wait. You're taking too long."
"There's something wrong with this cuff."
"YOU'RE STRESSING ME OUT!" I mouthed. Because it's not good to shout while your blood pressure is being taken. Slowly. What I really wanted to say was, "I hate it when Mommy and Daddy fight." But I wasn't sure they'd get it, and I wasn't in the mood for a psychiatric consult.
Doc rolled his eyes and took off with his little shadow to see another patient. Or put his feet up and drink hot chocolate. Chatty finished pumping, talking again, about how some patients think they're really fighting when they do that. Then she told me my blood pressure, which was surprisingly normal after all that fake conflict, and left the room, leaving the door wide open for passersby to gape at me like some zoo animal.
Doc returned around 10:00. "This is Mark. He's thinking about becoming a doctor."
REEEEEEEEE! Sound of phonograph needle gouging the grooves on some cool 70s album. Jimmy Buffet's Son of a Son of a Sailor, perhaps. Or The Best of Bread.
WTF! Mark IS THINKING ABOUT BECOMING A DOCTOR? So he gets to follow Doc around and be privy (heh, heh, I said privy) to confidential patient medical information? I have a good mind to call HIPAA on him! It's not like he was introduced as a medical student. For all I know it was some nephew or next-door-neighbor of Doc. I'm thinking about becoming a unicorn. How 'bout THAT? Can I glue a horn to my forehead and knock on people's doors and go to their daughters' rooms and prance around? I think not.
Oh, and as Doc was tap tap tapping on his laptop, Mark stepped across the room and SHOOK MY HAND. Without washing up in the sink that was at my right shoulder. I don't think Mark should be spreading cooties and flu virus and possibly Ebola from patient to patient. But that's just me. Maybe Mark is also thinking about being a politician. Or maybe he's just a weirdo.
Tomorrow I am checking the Yellow Pages for a good witch doctor. Can't be any crazier.
That's enough to drive you to a dirty water cocktail.
ReplyDeleteVal the Unicorn? You could do twice-daily shows at Hick's Little Barbershop of Horrors.
ReplyDeleteFree unicorn ride with ever haircut? Prepare to soon be in a higher tax bracket.
ReplyDeleteThe last time I went to the doctor, the nurse did her minor duties then left and said the doctor would be right in. 45 minutes later he arrived, spent about 5 minutes with me and sent me on my way. For this we have health insurance.
ReplyDeleteThinking about becoming a doctor ....... maybe he brought him in for you to discourage him?
ReplyDeletejoeh,
ReplyDeleteWell, if I was a drinker, maybe it would. But as a teetotaler, I refrain. It might fill me up so I couldn't cram in maximum quantities of soda and fried food before plopping my huge body back in my La-Z-Boy.
*****
Sioux,
TWICE daily? You know that will interfere with my soda/fried food/La-Z-Boy routine, right? I see no reason for a unicorn to be a workhorse.
*****
Stephen,
Taxes. Always a down side as each new sideline is added to our proposed handbasket factory/Little Barbershop of Horrors entrepreneurship. It's depressing enough to drive me to soda, fried food, and the comforting arms of my La-Z-Boy
******
Catalyst,
Well, for this, and for getting those six-page statements every month showing how much of your deductible you have not yet met. I swear. Reading those things takes time away from my favorite pastimes of swilling soda, feasting on fried food, and plopping in my La-Z-Boy.
******
Kathy,
Or to show him a cash cow just brimming with soda, fried food, and the imprint of La-Z-Boy upholstery on her backside.
The argument! How is that not "really fighting? Very unprofessional of both of them.
ReplyDeleteIf you do decide to become a unicorn I will pay you good money to come and prance around my house.
Birdie,
ReplyDeleteWell...I'm only THINKING about becoming a unicorn right now. So I would just come over and prance around. No horn or four hooves or anything. Just me. Which will help me to decide if I really want to BE a unicorn, I suppose. And you have to introduce me to everyone as, "This is Val. She's thinking about becoming a unicorn." So you don't have to pay me GOOD money yet. Mediocre money will do.
There is this... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cIXIZ_8aGM8
ReplyDeleteBirdie,
ReplyDeleteI want that 4 minutes and 31 seconds of my life back! I was mesmerized. They both need some good foundation garments. You won't get a performance like that from Val.