Warning: Getting Sick May Be Hazardous To Your (Mental) Health.
So I've been feeling like shit since Thursday. Cough, aches, congestion, the works.
I thought maybe I should go see a doctor about it. Unfortunately, I made that decision late yesterday.
I tried calling my "primary provider" this morning at 8:30-ish. This guy has been my primary provider for a couple of years now and I've never laid eyes on him. I just don't get sick that often, and anyway I've been seeing strictly fetus & baby doctors over the past couple of years.
After about 10 minutes (no, I'm not exaggerating) of being on hold/"disconnected"/on hold again, I got the super smack down from a bitchy receptionist & bitchier nurse about how you need to call at 8 if you want even a prayer of a chance of being seen. I asked for an appointment tomorrow and was snidely told to go to urgent care if I needed to be seen.
Look, I'm not a fucking idiot. I know I have slim to no chance of being seen without an appointment on Monday morning. I was willing to work with them. I was willing to be seen tomorrow, hell, even Wednesday if it came to that. But they never even gave me a chance to explain. They said no fewer than three times each that things were "really bad" there on Mondays. What I really should have said is, "Really? Well, it'd be even worse if you were sick and couldn't get in to see a doctor."
These women were so unpleasant that, I am ashamed to say, I cried a little after getting off the phone. I blame that entirely on my weakened physical state from not being able to breathe or sleep normally. I was absolutely treated like shit and I can't figure out why; I made no unreasonable demands and never complained about being put on hold for so long. I kept my voice even (if a little hoarse) and always addressed both these worthless gutbags as "ma'am."
One of the things you may not know about me is that I used to work as a medical records clerk in a small rural clinic. There, I witnessed absolutely some of the worst of human behavior. So I know whereof I speak when I say these things to you.
I know that things are pretty hairy around doctors' offices on Monday mornings. I also know that, for the women (it seems like it's always women) who deal directly with patients in the making of appointments and the generation of paperwork, a bitterly adversarial "us versus them" mentality takes hold quickly. The patients are seen as the enemy in a neverending war, a vast army of the great unwashed to be kept at bay with the hold button, the appointment book, and (in the case of one receptionist I worked with) the bottle of disinfectant. Seriously. This bitch would swab down the counter right in front of you as you stepped away from her window if she thought you had something contagious.
And that's not even counting the woman in charge of billing, who was fond of saying snide things like "Well, would you go to the grocery store without money?" Keep in mind, this was a rural clinic, and many of our patients were living well below poverty level. Some of them were migrant farm workers and therefore already used to being shit on on a daily basis by everyone they came in contact with (OMG they're taking our precious $1.50-an-hour hot, filthy, dangerous American jobs that no Americans even want!), only to be further humiliated by these people who were supposed to help them.
That pissed me off the most, since I think of migrant farm workers like members of my family. This is because my mother's entire family used to be migrant farm workers, and some of them still work the annual harvests because they want the extra under-the-table cash and are willing to face the long hours, brutal heat, dangerous pesticides, etc. etc.
So I guess what I'm saying is, this is just how it's going to be until the government of the United States of America finally realizes that access to decent healthcare is a right and not a privilege. In the meantime, just roll the dice and hope you don't need a doctor on Monday morning.
Oh, and don't worry about me; I'll probably just "Aztec warrior up," (Eric figures that must be the Latino version of "cowboying up") and ride this one out sans medical intervention. Lord knows, I've done it plenty of times before in the years I spent without health insurance. And I must admit, there's a real sense of satisfaction in being able to say, "Antibiotics? Who needs 'em. Just give me a couple of lemons, a salt shaker, and a few shots of tequila and I'll be fine by next week."
I thought maybe I should go see a doctor about it. Unfortunately, I made that decision late yesterday.
I tried calling my "primary provider" this morning at 8:30-ish. This guy has been my primary provider for a couple of years now and I've never laid eyes on him. I just don't get sick that often, and anyway I've been seeing strictly fetus & baby doctors over the past couple of years.
After about 10 minutes (no, I'm not exaggerating) of being on hold/"disconnected"/on hold again, I got the super smack down from a bitchy receptionist & bitchier nurse about how you need to call at 8 if you want even a prayer of a chance of being seen. I asked for an appointment tomorrow and was snidely told to go to urgent care if I needed to be seen.
Look, I'm not a fucking idiot. I know I have slim to no chance of being seen without an appointment on Monday morning. I was willing to work with them. I was willing to be seen tomorrow, hell, even Wednesday if it came to that. But they never even gave me a chance to explain. They said no fewer than three times each that things were "really bad" there on Mondays. What I really should have said is, "Really? Well, it'd be even worse if you were sick and couldn't get in to see a doctor."
These women were so unpleasant that, I am ashamed to say, I cried a little after getting off the phone. I blame that entirely on my weakened physical state from not being able to breathe or sleep normally. I was absolutely treated like shit and I can't figure out why; I made no unreasonable demands and never complained about being put on hold for so long. I kept my voice even (if a little hoarse) and always addressed both these worthless gutbags as "ma'am."
One of the things you may not know about me is that I used to work as a medical records clerk in a small rural clinic. There, I witnessed absolutely some of the worst of human behavior. So I know whereof I speak when I say these things to you.
I know that things are pretty hairy around doctors' offices on Monday mornings. I also know that, for the women (it seems like it's always women) who deal directly with patients in the making of appointments and the generation of paperwork, a bitterly adversarial "us versus them" mentality takes hold quickly. The patients are seen as the enemy in a neverending war, a vast army of the great unwashed to be kept at bay with the hold button, the appointment book, and (in the case of one receptionist I worked with) the bottle of disinfectant. Seriously. This bitch would swab down the counter right in front of you as you stepped away from her window if she thought you had something contagious.
And that's not even counting the woman in charge of billing, who was fond of saying snide things like "Well, would you go to the grocery store without money?" Keep in mind, this was a rural clinic, and many of our patients were living well below poverty level. Some of them were migrant farm workers and therefore already used to being shit on on a daily basis by everyone they came in contact with (OMG they're taking our precious $1.50-an-hour hot, filthy, dangerous American jobs that no Americans even want!), only to be further humiliated by these people who were supposed to help them.
That pissed me off the most, since I think of migrant farm workers like members of my family. This is because my mother's entire family used to be migrant farm workers, and some of them still work the annual harvests because they want the extra under-the-table cash and are willing to face the long hours, brutal heat, dangerous pesticides, etc. etc.
So I guess what I'm saying is, this is just how it's going to be until the government of the United States of America finally realizes that access to decent healthcare is a right and not a privilege. In the meantime, just roll the dice and hope you don't need a doctor on Monday morning.
Oh, and don't worry about me; I'll probably just "Aztec warrior up," (Eric figures that must be the Latino version of "cowboying up") and ride this one out sans medical intervention. Lord knows, I've done it plenty of times before in the years I spent without health insurance. And I must admit, there's a real sense of satisfaction in being able to say, "Antibiotics? Who needs 'em. Just give me a couple of lemons, a salt shaker, and a few shots of tequila and I'll be fine by next week."