My Doctor Wants To Break Up With Me

I went to see my Neurologist yesterday. I HATE going to my Neurologist. Once upon a time her office was near the suburbs, as in near my house, now it’s in Oakland. I HATE driving to Oakland. For me, it’s the equivalent to driving in Pittsburgh. Pedestrians and one-way streets everywhere, so if I miss the damn road I’m supposed to turn onto, I have to go in some kind of circle to get back to where I should’ve been and considering I’m clueless in Oakland, I’m never sure if I’m making the correct circle.

 The other thing I hate about seeing my Neurologist, and it’s also ironic, is that I see her for migraine headaches and by the time I’m done driving thru Oakland, making circles and parking, I end up with a freaken migraine and just want to turn around and go home for a nap.

Yesterday, I got in early, my appointment being at eleven-thirty, but I arrived in the office at eleven-twenty. I am late for everything, except my doctor’s appointments (amazing huh?). The board outside the receptionist’s window read that my doctor was ON TIME.

Yippee!

 It lied.

I sat until NOON before I got up and tapped on the reception window and when the receptionist came over, I said, “I’ve been sitting here for half an hour, is there a problem?”

 “Oh, let me check,” She replied sweetly, and I wanted to gag. Oh, let me check! I wanted to slap her! What the hell do receptionists do? Play computer games?

 When she returned, she told me, “She’s with a patient. If she’s not out in five minutes, I’ll see what’s keeping her.”

I sat back down but not before saying into the air, “Maybe I should send them a bill for MY time.” The husband and wife who were also in the waiting room laughed. I guess it was funny because what doctor would actually pay me.

At twelve after twelve, I was called back to the examination room. By this time, I was beyond pissed. Once in the examination room, my doctor made a very big mistake. She asked me how I was doing. Since she asked, I laid it out in terms a distracted texting teen wearing headphones could understand—

“I’m really ticked. I’ve been waiting forty-five minutes so you better make this real quick, because I have somewhere else to be!” I knew I shocked the living daylights out of her, but I thought, too damn bad. I’m sick of doctors thinking it’s a-okay making us patients wait but if we’re ever late, they make us reschedule and if we ever forget and don’t show up, they will bill us! They do all this and we take it and take it PLUS we PAY for it with smiles on our faces because no one ever wants to rock the boat. Well, I ROCKED THE DAMN BOAT!

“Your appointment was at eleven-forty-five so you weren’t waiting forty-five minutes,” she told me as she began typing on her computer keyboard. 

“My appointment was at eleven-thirty and yes I was waiting and THAT is WRONG. My time is as valuable as yours. The board says you’re on time, it LIED and I sat there.” 

 “Your appointment was eleven-forty-five,” She argued the appointment time but not that she was wrong in making me wait or that the damn board lied. 

“They told me eleven-thirty but that doesn’t even matter, it’s quarter after twelve, so I waited a half an hour regardless!” 

“Well it’s only twenty-five because we just spent five arguing.”

 “Seriously you’re going to try to spin this? Even if you don’t want to count our arguing time, I still waited over twenty-five minutes. If I was late, you’d make me reschedule! I should bill YOU for the time YOU made ME wait.”

 “Maybe you should reschedule you’re visibility upset.” 

“With good reason. This is ridiculous. And NO I will NOT reschedule. It takes me an hour to get here. Let’s get on with it. I’m fine!” I took a deep breath in and let it out. 

After all THAT, it really was five minutes of arguing, I have no clue where she got the first five minutes. I guess it could’ve been me having shocked her. Anyway, we proceed with the appointment. She asked the usual questions, blah-blah-blah. At the end, get this, she told me since there hadn’t been any changes in the last two years I could see if my PCP would fill my prescriptions then I wouldn’t have to drive an hour to her office.

 I feigned pleasantly surprise but knew it was her way of breaking up with me gently. If I was an insecure person, I might be really upset and stalk her cry. However, I’m actually glad she suggested that and truthfully I can’t blame her. This was the second time I got loud with her and my family said I’m intimidating when I’m loud even though I wouldn’t hurt a fly. Well, actually I do hurt flies, I kill them, because they deserve it. The filthy pests. 

In all honesty, I would rather see my PCP. At least she won’t tell me my headaches are going to last, oh, FOREVER! Yeah, last year headache-doctor-lady told me I would probably have my migraines for the rest of my life. I didn’t take too kindly to that. Then yesterday, I got quite snippy because I had to wait forty-five minutes because I am counting from the appointment time that they told me when I made the appointment LAST year! And no I’m not counting arguing time, if I count that, I waited fifty minutes—I’ll give her a pass on that since I was involved.

In the end, I did hug her and apologize. I didn’t want her to get a PFA have nightmares about the raving menopausal patient. 


 Maybe I should wear a warning sign— 

Do Not Make Me Wait 

Do Not Piss Me Off 

Do Not Do Anything I May Not Like 

I’m Menopausal!

Just feed me lattes, let me nap and I’ll try to be less snippy, less loud, less intimidating—


Just kidding! Not on the lattes and naps! Just the less stuff!