Dr, Crazy
I moved to Alberta not too long ago and had put off not finding a family doctor for long enough. When I asked around at work if anyone knew of a good doctor, one lady told me that Dr. Smith would be a good choice. She said she was very talkative, which I liked because I was used to feeling like doctors didn't spend enough time talking about my concerns. If I only knew what was to come.
I arrived at my appointment right on time at 4:20. The medical building seemed typical. Clean, distant, and the same assortment of magazines I had no interest in reading. I'm sure 40 years down the road I'll gobble "Country Life, volumes 2 - 4" right up.
I waited about 20 minutes or so before a pleasant nurse chirped my name. I was happy at her apparent warmth, as doctors tend to make me a little bit nervous. I took a seat in the office scattered with toys, when the nurse announced she was going to take my blood pressure. I wasn't prepared for this, as it was supposed to be a 10 minute "meet and greet" (you have to go through this if you want a family doctor.) I still had on a collard shirt with a sweater over top, as I had just come from work. For a good five minutes the 85 year old nurse struggled with my sleeve, and by the time she gave up I'm sure my blood pressure was through the roof.
"You'll have to change into a gown," she said sweetly. And that's when the stare off began. Listen, I'm Canadian. And I'm 21. I have personal boundaries. I don't care if you're 85 and you've seen it all, I'm not changing in front of you. "Betty," as I remember her name being, finally left the room with the same smile plastered on her face as when she came in. After I was safely in my gown, she took my blood pressure, which you can imagine was slightly higher then usual.
After Betty left, I had a good 15 minutes to ponder all of the things I thought were wrong with me. My heart beat faster and I got ready to show my pearly whites every time I heard footsteps walk past the door. Finally after convincing myself I had all 10 diseases listed on the chart on the wall, in walked Dr. Smith. Nothing could have prepared me for this woman.
It didn't start off too bad. She asked my name, height, weight (might of lied a little bit there) and where I was from. Everything was going smoothly, and then she started to talk about the weather. Now I don't mean, "It's cold outside today, eh?" I mean she went on a half hour rant about how Alberta isn't as cold as Saskatchewan. Then she proceeded to talk about fall fashions and how we have it a lot better here because we don't need to be bundled up as much. Half an hour, you say? That can't be so bad, that's not even half a movie. Keep in mind I had to smile the whole time. I was there to impress this woman, if she didn't like me, it was on the next doctor that would see me. I felt like I was on a bad first date.
After the lengthy talk about the Canadian climate, she finally asked what my concerns were. One of them, which I've had for a while, were some lumps in my neck. I was pretty sure they were nothing, but it's good to be reassured by someone who's been to medical school. Dr. Smith felt the mysterious lumps, gave a perplexed look and then said in her thick African accent "You know dear, I'm pretty sure it's nothing." Satisfaction turned to fear when she then gave her own neck a feel and said "Oh, I've got them too. Maybe I should get this looked at. Have a feel, Dear."
Things could only get better right? I then told her of my fear of needles and my fainting. She was surprisingly sympathetic about the fainting, which I was impressed with. She even gave me the name of a psychologist who could help me with it. Then things turned badly again. A nurse tapped on the door, letting Dr. Smith know it was past 5 o'clock and all the other patients were gone. This was good news, as I had discussed my concerns and was ready to go, but the doctor was just beginning.
After my medical issues was addressed, the one sided conversation quickly took a different turn. Dr. Smith started talking about her sister in Africa, who had just married. Not so bad, I enjoy hearing about other places and travel. Turns out the man her sister just married was divorced from a previous wife, and I was informed if a man was divorced or even widowed then he was a wife beater and something was very wrong with him. I kept mum and didn't disagree with the woman who could be sticking a needle in my arm. After many more nods and smiles, I noticed it was pitch black outside. What time was it? Surely my boyfriend was wondering where I was, maybe I should get going. But she wasn't done. After she was finished her 25 minute lecture on abusive men, she asked me what religion I was. I thought this was slightly odd, coming from a doctor. Aren't medical professionals not supposed to be biased about these things? When I looked uncomfortable, she asked me if I believed in Jesus. This time I gave my head shook, and what a mistake that was. I could of guessed what the CORRECT answer would have been to the lady wearing a "Jesus Saves" pin on her sweater, but I believe in freedom of speech and shouldn't be punished for my beliefs. Looking back, I would have pretended Bob the tomato was my god if it would have gotten me out of there sooner. The next conversation in my meet and greet was perhaps the longest. Dr. Smith informed me that if I don't accept Jesus as my savior, I will in fact, die. Yes, die. "The Jews are screwed!," I thought quietly. She went on to tell me that physicals were not even necessary, because if I'm not going to Church I will in fact, get sick and die.
I left Dr. Smith's office that night with her still talking. Oh don't get my wrong, even after everything she said, I tried to go politely. First I did the watch glance, then put my purse on my lap, then I even told her I had to pick my boyfriend up from work (blatant lie, I bet Jesus saw right through that one) but she still kept on. As I left the office, the nurse half falling asleep at the reception desk must have seen the look of wild desperation in my eyes before, as she did not bother to ask if I wanted to book a second appointment. Bursting out the door, the chill of the night air never felt so good.
I don't think I'll go back to see Dr. Smith*.
*Names, ethnic background and country have been changed to protect careers.
I arrived at my appointment right on time at 4:20. The medical building seemed typical. Clean, distant, and the same assortment of magazines I had no interest in reading. I'm sure 40 years down the road I'll gobble "Country Life, volumes 2 - 4" right up.
I waited about 20 minutes or so before a pleasant nurse chirped my name. I was happy at her apparent warmth, as doctors tend to make me a little bit nervous. I took a seat in the office scattered with toys, when the nurse announced she was going to take my blood pressure. I wasn't prepared for this, as it was supposed to be a 10 minute "meet and greet" (you have to go through this if you want a family doctor.) I still had on a collard shirt with a sweater over top, as I had just come from work. For a good five minutes the 85 year old nurse struggled with my sleeve, and by the time she gave up I'm sure my blood pressure was through the roof.
"You'll have to change into a gown," she said sweetly. And that's when the stare off began. Listen, I'm Canadian. And I'm 21. I have personal boundaries. I don't care if you're 85 and you've seen it all, I'm not changing in front of you. "Betty," as I remember her name being, finally left the room with the same smile plastered on her face as when she came in. After I was safely in my gown, she took my blood pressure, which you can imagine was slightly higher then usual.
After Betty left, I had a good 15 minutes to ponder all of the things I thought were wrong with me. My heart beat faster and I got ready to show my pearly whites every time I heard footsteps walk past the door. Finally after convincing myself I had all 10 diseases listed on the chart on the wall, in walked Dr. Smith. Nothing could have prepared me for this woman.
It didn't start off too bad. She asked my name, height, weight (might of lied a little bit there) and where I was from. Everything was going smoothly, and then she started to talk about the weather. Now I don't mean, "It's cold outside today, eh?" I mean she went on a half hour rant about how Alberta isn't as cold as Saskatchewan. Then she proceeded to talk about fall fashions and how we have it a lot better here because we don't need to be bundled up as much. Half an hour, you say? That can't be so bad, that's not even half a movie. Keep in mind I had to smile the whole time. I was there to impress this woman, if she didn't like me, it was on the next doctor that would see me. I felt like I was on a bad first date.
After the lengthy talk about the Canadian climate, she finally asked what my concerns were. One of them, which I've had for a while, were some lumps in my neck. I was pretty sure they were nothing, but it's good to be reassured by someone who's been to medical school. Dr. Smith felt the mysterious lumps, gave a perplexed look and then said in her thick African accent "You know dear, I'm pretty sure it's nothing." Satisfaction turned to fear when she then gave her own neck a feel and said "Oh, I've got them too. Maybe I should get this looked at. Have a feel, Dear."
Things could only get better right? I then told her of my fear of needles and my fainting. She was surprisingly sympathetic about the fainting, which I was impressed with. She even gave me the name of a psychologist who could help me with it. Then things turned badly again. A nurse tapped on the door, letting Dr. Smith know it was past 5 o'clock and all the other patients were gone. This was good news, as I had discussed my concerns and was ready to go, but the doctor was just beginning.
After my medical issues was addressed, the one sided conversation quickly took a different turn. Dr. Smith started talking about her sister in Africa, who had just married. Not so bad, I enjoy hearing about other places and travel. Turns out the man her sister just married was divorced from a previous wife, and I was informed if a man was divorced or even widowed then he was a wife beater and something was very wrong with him. I kept mum and didn't disagree with the woman who could be sticking a needle in my arm. After many more nods and smiles, I noticed it was pitch black outside. What time was it? Surely my boyfriend was wondering where I was, maybe I should get going. But she wasn't done. After she was finished her 25 minute lecture on abusive men, she asked me what religion I was. I thought this was slightly odd, coming from a doctor. Aren't medical professionals not supposed to be biased about these things? When I looked uncomfortable, she asked me if I believed in Jesus. This time I gave my head shook, and what a mistake that was. I could of guessed what the CORRECT answer would have been to the lady wearing a "Jesus Saves" pin on her sweater, but I believe in freedom of speech and shouldn't be punished for my beliefs. Looking back, I would have pretended Bob the tomato was my god if it would have gotten me out of there sooner. The next conversation in my meet and greet was perhaps the longest. Dr. Smith informed me that if I don't accept Jesus as my savior, I will in fact, die. Yes, die. "The Jews are screwed!," I thought quietly. She went on to tell me that physicals were not even necessary, because if I'm not going to Church I will in fact, get sick and die.
I left Dr. Smith's office that night with her still talking. Oh don't get my wrong, even after everything she said, I tried to go politely. First I did the watch glance, then put my purse on my lap, then I even told her I had to pick my boyfriend up from work (blatant lie, I bet Jesus saw right through that one) but she still kept on. As I left the office, the nurse half falling asleep at the reception desk must have seen the look of wild desperation in my eyes before, as she did not bother to ask if I wanted to book a second appointment. Bursting out the door, the chill of the night air never felt so good.
I don't think I'll go back to see Dr. Smith*.
*Names, ethnic background and country have been changed to protect careers.