Things I Hate: Doctor's Visits

One nice thing about the Army is the medical insurance. Yup, we're pertty well covered. But the care provided is, uhm, well...

How come I’m asked to arrive “at least 15 minutes early” to see the doctor, and then made to sit alone in a tiny, cold room (with no magazines to be seen! Thank God I brought a paperback with me!) for 55 minutes before the MD ever pops in? Fifty-five freakin’ minutes. No apology, and then I’m rushed through my visit, hardly able to voice my concerns (to which every response is simply “Take this to the lab, they’ll run blood work”) in the generous ten minutes I was allotted.

Apparently, I had a mind reading doctor today, which would explain why he was so busy; he must be quite popular! (This is not my normal doc, mind you. Mine is friendly, and must not have telepathic powers since at those visits, I’m actually questioned about my medical history, current medications, symptoms, etc. You know, the stuff that could be important, like "Yes, this runs in my family, both sides, in fact!")

Mind reader or not, I was unimpressed, and a little irked that just because someone one to medical school his time is more important than a little blogger with internal bleeding. (Ok, irked was the wrong word. I was actually a blubbering baby about it as soon as I reached the lab for blood work. Thanks, girls, for cheering me up and addressing my questions, even though that wasn't your job. And thanks for the tissue, too.)

You can bet, Mind Reader, MD, when I make my follow up appointment in 7-10 days (even though my lab results are back already so it’d be cool to talk, uhm, before then, but whatevs….), it won’t be with you.

So I'll just keep bleedin' away for the next ten days, and since you wouldn't answer my questions about what I could do to ease things along, I'll keep being grumpy, 'cause I don't feel so good.

Anyone still want Government run health care?

Rant over.