So, I finally succumbed yesterday and tried to make a doctor's appointment, much to Hubbie's elation. If it was up to Hubbie I would dash off to the doctor's office every time I had a sniffle; clearly this is not my M.O.
Have I ever mentioned before how utterly rude and surly my doctor's receptionists are? Well, they are. From the moment they pick up the phone you feel like you're a problem patient. The unsaid undertone in their voice is "Dear God, another patient. What the hell do you want?" Maybe it's the fact that they're Russion or Ukranian or whatever - it's kind of stereotypical of me but I can't imagine that doctor's offices in Russia are bastions of cheer and helpful customer service.
So, as a result, I pretty much take a deep breath whenever I call the doctor. Patience and humility are needed, qualities that are often in short supply when you're anxious, grouchy, iritable, or just plain tired as a result of whatever ailment you're calling them to try and fix.
The good news was that they actually picked up yesterday. It's pretty hit or miss with them as to whether they're actually open. (I did, in my defense, have Hubbie try to call them last Friday at 3pm but they were closed.) I've never quite been able to figure out my doctor's hours are. You can call at 1pm and an answering service picks up (and WTF with that? Who has an answering service any more? They're totally and utterly worthless. It's just a human telling you they're closed, they can't make an appointment, and you should call 911 if you need urgent care. I'd be less insulted if it was an answering machine.) Or you can try to make an appointment on a specific day of the week only to turn up and find out that you've been passed-off to the nurse practitioner (she who tells me with every pap-smear that I'm almost too late to have kids, provides helpful baby-making advice like "lay on your back with your legs against a wall after sex." and, when I requested malaria pills, pulls out an aging dictionary of medicines and flips to 'M' for malaria while asking me which pills I would like. )
After the usual "Doctor XXX's office, can you hold?", I finally get Helga (sorry, stereotypes again but I can't resist.) "Yes?" "I'd like to make an appointment to see the doctor." "Ok, please hold." Seriously? Why are you answering the phone if you're not able or prepared to take appointments? Now I get Ingrid. "Why are you coming in?" "I've had a cold for more than a week that won't go away, along with headaches and a preety bad cough." "Let me see, the earliest appointment we have is Thursday at 10am." "THURSDAY!?"
Ok, by Thursday I'm going to be better all by myself. At that point, I'm hardly going to subject myself to antibiotics that give me a bladder infection.
When I told Hubbie this, he went into action behind my back. He called Helga and Ingrid and tried to appeall to their "better" nature to squeeze me in a little earlier. Obviously, he was fighting a losing battle there. They didn't call it the iron curtain for nothing. He was told that if I wanted to see someone today I would need to go to the urgent care facility at the end of my road. Ok, now why would I sit for 2-3 hours in an urgent care facility with a bunch of people who sliced off their finger, or have a nail in their foot (ie: people with need for actual URGENT care) just to get some antibiotics? I'd feel like a real imposter and plus it's a colossal waste of my time.
So, I'm getting a new doctor. I did some research online and found a nice looking lady in a medical practice with more than one doctor on-hand and opening hours that resemble full-time. I have to wait until September 1st to see her because the HMO can't switch me before then. Ironic of course that I have to switch before I actually meet her. I hope she's as nice as she looks online. It occurs to me that this is just as sketchy as online dating.
6 comments:
Ummm... I don't know who this chick is but it appears to be some kind of underhanded advertising strategy. Since I don't have comment moderating activated I can't delete the comment; suffice to say you shouldn't visit the site in case it attaches some nasty spyware to your pc.
GOSH.
Hey darlin' - it's a spam message. All you have to do is go into blogger dashboard, and from there view the blog. When you open the comments, you will see a little trashcan at the bottom of each comment. Click on it and follow the prompts, you'll be good to go.
The right doctor is the key. I found a great one here, by referral, and the office staff is wonderful too.
oh what crapulence exhibited by said previous anonymous author. that really sucks the big one. i see you now have comments moderated :) good for you.
you know, i've learned that the olgas and helgas and ingrid's of this world all have the same manner. it's just in their blood, it's the way they are. they speak to each other all gruffly so therefore they think it's ok to speak to all peeps in that way. it's not, of course, but i think it's just part of their culture and language structure.
where possible, i get all gruff back at them and they usually tone it down a bit. ive also been known to say things like "the pleasure was all mine" when they've been insanely rude to me. it throws them off course and generally gets a nervous smile out of them. then they run away b/c they cannot format (in their heads) what i've actually said, or what i meant by it.
when all else fails, just say nothing. this works, even on the phone. they'll say nothing too. the first person to speak will usually be them. make them say "hello? hello?" a couple of times before answering. then be as nice as pie. ive found this also tends to make them be nicer to you.
if that fails, im sure i could find a contact in the russian mafia ...
e - of course I know it's Spam... I'm just like, wow, this is a whole new form of intrusion!
first... your former doctor's receptionists have their international medical receptionist degree. they're clearly well drilled in sop.
second... each time i read a story about HMOs in the excited states, i say a prayer of thanks that i don't live there.
and third... i hate spam, and would pay a large sum of money to be left alone in a room with a spammer... just me, the spammer (tied up in a chair), and a very fat cricket bat.
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