Usually I am a very appropriate patient. I respect my doctor appointments, always a good 15 minutes early, and don't get too annoyed when they're behind, which we all know means this patient brings a whole lotta patience with her!
My doofus son managed to get hit in the back of the head last week during his soccer game. The other team's trainer declared "concussion" on site (so glad to know many MD's are moonlighting as high school sports trainers nowadays). He got benched for a week. Fine by me. Fine by my son (who, being the Internet genius he is, promptly made sure to display every concussion symptom listed on WebMD.com). A week goes by, and in between his regularly scheduled Scarlett O'Hara fainting spells, my son is antsy as all get out to get off the sick list and back on the field. But.....when he goes to the trainer before his next game, the trainer says, "Sorry, you need a doctor's note."
Soo......a trainer can diagnose him, but a trainer can't CLEAR him? Doesn't that technically mean that the first trainer's "diagnosis" was invalid and theoretically nothing ever happened at all and he shouldn't be sitting out? Is it or isn't it his call? I never had a ball anywhere NEAR my head, and it's spinning like Linda Blair's!
This was Monday. Tuesday I make an appt. w/the doc. I schedule Thursday, knowing I can get time off and still get him cleared for his game on Friday.
Fast forward to today. After spending WAY too long stuck in traffic in the high school parking lot (I do NOT remember that nightmare when I was a teenager, but we were driving horses and buggies to school, so I could be wrong), we finally get to the doctor's and what do they tell me? "I'm sorry, your appointment is scheduled for tomorrow."
After enough threatening (which is really easy when the receptionist is sitting and you're standing; even if you're a midget like I am, it helps to have that towering glowering on your side) she's so proud of herself that she can get another doctor to see us. I could care less if she went in back and put on a white coat herself and asked my son to strip and cough, as long as there's a signed note on their letterhead saying he can play.
What she didn't tell me was how behind he already was or that he'd be a pompous, smirking, snarky ass when he finally showed up only to pull up an internet article on concussions (probably also WebMD; he and Ryan were probably on it at the same time), checked Ryan's pupils, declared him fit and printed off a note. At least if the receptionist had molested him, I would've believed we were getting our copay's worth.
After this retarded excuse for patient care, I decided to share my list of Things I Might Do To My Doctor's Office The Next Time They Screw Me Over And I'm Not Even In The Stirrups:
1. Take all the gloves except small, because I believe EVERY man believes he is a size L in condoms, so the thought of all the male doctors having to use size S in the hand condoms just makes me laugh.
2. Unplug their computers. Doctors are as old fashioned as they come, and they do NOT adapt to change easily. Unplugging the computer and then imagining him trying to maintain that slimy smile while fuming at his nonfunctioning computer is too good to pass up.
3. Take the boxes of tissues. I don't think it will affect them in any negative way, but my kids' schools are always begging for snot rags, so I think that's just win-win for me.
4. Squeeze out all the foam soap all over the patient bed. Tell the doctor I think my son has rabies. Watch him try to wash his hands and slowly freak out at the idea of no soap and a rabid teenager.
5. Sit in "the doctor's" chair. I'll be the one to shove across the floor on that little rolly chair and watch HIM try to sit in the interrogation chair instead. If I can somehow hack into his computer and play a little solitaire at the same time, that would just be gravy.
6. When he gets up to run out the door to his next golf game, tell him, "Wait! Isn't it 5 visits, get 1 free? I was hoping to get a Pap smear while I'm here." and start digging through the drawer for paper gowns.
7. Steal all the paper gowns. Ask for a to-go bag for my "complimentary items."
8. When asked to fill out the Patient Satisfaction Survey at the end of the visit, pull out a Jehovah's Witness brochure (I'm sure there's one on the floor of my car somewhere) and ask him if he would go with me to church seeing as how we're doing each other a favor.
9. Ask him if there's an expiration date on the pads and tampons I find at the bottom of my purse while looking for the Jehovah's Witness brochure. Ask him to show me again how they're used because I read you have to get retrained annually, like CPR.
10. Actually fill out the Patient Satisfaction Survey honestly and tell them how stupid their scheduling is and how they effed up my day and the doctor was a slimy asshat who didn't deserve my copay.
I actually did one of those above 10. I will leave it up to you to decide which one.
Queen of my own Magic Kingdom, full of all the irreverent, obnoxious, and sometimes offensive sarcasm you know and love. I don't care what people think of me, but I do care if you like my blog. Read, forward, repeat.
