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Epileptics, Don't They?
Chapter 3: My Doctor is a Pimp
Written by: Alex Sandell
By this point, my prescriptions had completely run (is it "run" or "ran?") dry. I got into a pissing match with the nurse over the whole thing, claiming that it made more sense to take the tests and then visit the doctor, rather than come in, take the tests, and have to come in again if they were messed up. I also told her that I couldn't just go off of 5 fairly hardcore prescription meds cold-turkey. She made that weird noise with her nostrils people make to indicate that they're mad, and put me on hold.
Seconds later, my doctor picked up and let me know that 1. Doctors are capable of picking up the phone if you irritate their nurses enough 2. I was his bitch and bitches didn't make the decisions. He told me he wasn't going to be a doctor on demand and that he wasn't going to treat me over the phone. 3. Doctors hate having to pick up the phone.
I reminded him that it was he who had said I needed to get my labs redone. He ignored me and said that before I get another refill or lab, I needed to come in and see him. I asked him why, and he essentially said "because I said so, biiiaaatch!" I didn't catch the next thing he said, but it was something along the lines of, "yo, babe - roll me up a fatty!" In the background, I heard his nurse stating/asking, "No clownin', G?"
After a deep inhale, he asked why I didn't like coming into the clinic. Maybe it was because the last time I was there I spent a full hour in the waiting room. By the time I got in to see the doctor, I found out that the lab had closed a few minutes before he was able to visit with me. This was after five days of fasting for my cholesterol test. It was also on a Friday afternoon, meaning I had to wait until Monday morning to take the tests.
The nurse had warned me that he was running behind, due to being on a vacation the week prior to my visit. I think it was in either Jamaica or Columbia. And I forgot to bring my Nintendo DS, leaving me with nothing but a copy of Ladies Home Journal to occupy my time. I did let her know I had gone 5 days without eating, and she said they'd "make it snappy." They didn't, and I went a week without a bite of food.
Flash-forward 6 months and
I finally let bygones be bygones (I had no choice), gave in and made an
appointment to see the doctor, so he could order me the tests he had already
requested I take 5 months earlier. On the 24th of
April, I went in to see
my pimp the good doctor. I
arrived 5 minutes early and was sent to the waiting room. "It shouldn't be
long," the sniffling receptionist told me, before blowing her nose into her hand
and handing me papers to fill out while I waited.
The overcrowded waiting room spoke volumes. Despite what the snotty girl behind the counter told me, this was going to be a long wait. But I came prepared. I had my Nintendo DS and a handful of games to occupy my time. Fool me once, shame on you ... fool me twice ... I pressed the power button and nothing happened. I had forgotten to recharge the handheld before my appointment.
I turned away from hours of gaming fun to the magazine section and saw that the only thing available was Ladies Home Journal -- the same one I had perused the last time I was here, 6 months earlier. A sticker on the cover read, "This magazine provided as a courtesy from your local Burger King."
A junk food joint backing a clinic seemed ironic to me, but at least I was entitled to one free Whopper and a side of Chicken Fries, provided I was able to prove I had made a visit to the clinic that very day. I suppose it does keep repeat business at both BK and the clinic.
Continued on next page>>>
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©2006 Alex Sandell and The Juicy Cerebellum Inc. [All Rights Reserved]. Copy this without permission and I'll damn you to a waiting room for all of eternity. One filled with patients exposed to bad dysentery. Plus the bird flu. And bad gas. The kind that smells like rotten eggs.