Yesterday I developed some very painful physical symptoms and knew I needed to go see the doctor.
In recent years I’ve found it much more effective to call my gyno for an appointment first. They are so nice and completely understand the highs and lows of woman-ness. When we don’t feel good, dammit be nice! So I start there. My symptoms are described and I’m met with
“I’m so sorry, but the doctor is out of town until June 17; we could schedule you then?” OK. I’m good with that. I understand the put off, so I say, “Thanks, I’ll call my regular doctor and set something up there – I really need to see someone sooner than that.”
So I switch gears and dial my regular doctors office only to be greeting by one of those annoying automated answering systems.
“If you are having an emergency, please hang up and dial 911” Okie Dokie. I’m pretty sure this isn’t an emergency. Just need to see the doc.
“If you know your parties extension please dial it now” Really? Who knows the extension when you call your doctors office… hmmm.
“If you need to cancel, change or make an appointment please press 4” There we go, make an appointment – not an emergency – don’t know the extension. Four it is.
An elevator version of the Beatles “Something” kept me entertained while I impatiently drum my fingers on top of the microwave, then “Please leave a message at the tone”. What the heck? I don’t want to leave a message! I need a person now! So I hang up, wait 5 minutes and dial again. Same result! I try 3 more times then give up to finish feed my chickadees their breakfast.
Nanny Granny duties kick in for the rest of the morning. Wow Wow Wubzy was watched and a bit of play time, then after I put the chickadees down for their nap, so I try again. I am once more offered the opportunity to leave a message. I am not, cannot and will not leave a message. Frustrated, I give up and spend some quality time sulking.
Later, near the time the office will close I give it one last try, knowing it will be tomorrow before I get an appointment, but resigning myself to it nonetheless. Finally on the first ring I get a female, human voice!
” Medical Clinic!” (yes exclamation point – she was very abrupt and sounded a bit testy)
“Hi, I need to schedule an appointment with the Doctor”
“What do you need to see the doctor for?”
I carefully describe my symptoms, including the pain and the extreme discomfort part knowing these should garner me a coveted appointment with the doctor.
“OK, let’s see…. hmmm…. looks like she can see you on June 9”
In my mind a thousand possible responses cross my mind in the space of a nano-second and none of them were appropriate for me to say to her and are definitely not becoming to a lady like me to include in this saga. I know you’ve been there before. I know you’ve felt the pressure behind your eyes that feels like the front of your head is going to blow off and your tongue retreats to the back of your throat rendering you completely unable to speak coherently. The only thing I could choke out was
“Never mind!” and I hung up.
Not the first time I’ve gotten this result and I wish the receptionist at my doc would grow some freaking empathy and develop a better sense of hearing what the patient is saying! Three weeks from now will NOT work when I likely need medication to fix what is wrong and I feel like crap!
It’s time. Time to move on. What was good is no longer. It’s a was and I need a doctor who will take better care of me and my family when we need them. I can’t wait any more. I’m done.