There is nothing I hate like I hate the doctor's office. I hate the smell and feel of the waiting room, the fecking paperwork, which I have already filled out at the three doctors' offices that I had to visit before finally landing in this one (seriously, no computers?), and the waiting. I was required to be at this self-important douche hole twenty minutes prior to my appointment, presumably to fill out the metric fuck ton of repetitive paperwork. After I turned that in (with ten minutes to spare, I might add), I was kept waiting another ten minutes before being called into the examination room. The b.h. stayed in the waiting room. I was given a crappy useless gown and told to remove my sweater and t-shirt. Luckily I had layered, because it was about fifty degrees in that room. Another ten minutes went by and a very young woman came in to do the preliminary b.s. - hwy was I there (um... check the fucking referral?), what happened, etc. That was a two minute process. After that I waited forever consuming an entire issue of Smithsonian Magazine before finally putting my clothes back on and wandering out to find a bathroom. I woman in a doctor's coat called me by name and pointed the way. when I came back out she apologized for keeping me waiting and said she would be right in. She came in a several minutes later, we talked for a few minutes, she asked questions and got a model of the shoulder to show me where the problems were, etc. This lasted approximately five minutes. Only after all this did she say that the doctor would be in shortly. She disappeared, and I read another whole magazine. She poked her head in and said she was sorry again and that she would try to push the doctor along. Did I need to be anywhere?
"Does he need to reschedule?"
No, she reassured me, though if I needed to go she could certainly understand. I explained that I had already been waiting three months to get in, and that they had already failed to return my calls or get me an appointment on three other occasions, so I was not eager to try again. I asked her to fetch the b.h. When I found out that I had been in there for over an hour, I got furious.
I told him I was going to wait five more minutes and then walk out. He reminded me that I had been asked to pay in advance and that I should demand my money back. I stewed for several more minutes before finally getting dressed, grabbing my bag, and walking out, nearly bowling the doctor over in the process.
"Oh, do you have time to see me now?" I asked in the kind of quiet tone of voice that usually precedes a homicidal spree in the movies.
He looked genuinely confused. Did I dare question him? After he'd spent so many years in medical school? Who was I, a mere non-medical professional, to assume that my time was in any way equal in value to his? It was clear that he was not used to people reacting this way. I wanted to dick punch him.
We went back in the room, we ran through the bullshit, and I contained my anger as best I could. The end result was a cortisone shot and less pain, and my solemn promise to myself that I will suck it up and drive the fucking forty miles to Burlington the next time I need to see a doctor. Fuck that place. Seriously.