(no subject)
Things have started fumbling towards a sense of normalcy now. Woo hoo!
To begin with, I've gotten out two drafts in the last two days, which is putting me back on track with GS. I wanted to be submitting work all along, but recovering from Sephie's birth was harder than I ever imagined. In fact, sitting on hard surfaces for long isn't much of an option for me, because I'll inevitably feel the area around my stitches start to swell. And since I'm not too keen on swallowing Tylenol by the handful (anymore) I'd just prefer to avoid that altogether.
The work with GS is especially impressive because I have been sick. For the past week, I've been fighting a nasty cold. Most of the Clan got over it in two days, but due to breastfeeding, I can't take most of the cold stuff available. So Max suggested I go see this doctor that they occasionally send clients to who practices hydrogen peroxide therapy. Not knowing any better and thinking it sounded pretty innovative and being plain tired of being sick, I agreed. I just assumed he'd give me a shot.
I was totally wrong, but before I get to that, I should point out I had my first appointment with him yesterday, at 4:45. I arrived at his clinic, saw that the entry way was the waiting room, and sat down on the couch. I had been advised to bring a book, which I assumed to mean that he was a doctor who kept people waiting. A few minutes after I arrived, I noticed a patient leaving and heard someone make a phone call. I felt confident he would come and get me sooner rather than later, but by the time 5:15 rolled around, I began to think maybe I needed to give him a head's up that I was there. I sent out a few text messages, received replies, played a few rounds of Tetris and even took a phone call, speaking about a level louder than I normally would, but nothing happened and nobody came out.
Nearing six, I began to get really annoyed when a gaunt, older man appeared. He looked at me, stated my name, and told me I was almost two hours late. I politely informed him I had been in the waiting room since the scheduled appointment time, to which he looked at me incredulously and asked in a manner that suggested I shouldn't answer why I hadn't let him know I was there. I just looked at him in complete shock and said, "Because I didn't know where to find you?" He had me follow him back to his office because he said it was too late to treat me and we needed to reschedule. Of course, as is so typical of my luck these days, the only time he had available to see me conflicted with another appointment for a separate issue.
When I got back to the house, he had sent a pretty scathing e-mail to my in-laws, stating, "She arrived [allegedly] on time, came in silently, sat as quiet as a church mouse, and in such a way so that I couldn't see her from my office. We've rescheduled."
This message really pissed me off, for a few reasons.
1. He's making it pretty clear that he doesn't think I arrived on time. My friends will agree I tend to run late to lunches and movies, but my clinicians can't complain of the same. Why? Because your friends will wait for you. Your professionals won't, and most will charge you for the missed time.
2. He's apparently annoyed I entered his office making as little noise as possible and sat quietly instead of causing a ruckus. Really? REALLY?! I've been to a lot of doctors in my day with a wide range of specialties, and I have never encountered one where more noise would be appreciated. In fact, most have signs or something advising patients to be quiet in the waiting areas.
3. He obviously thinks the missed appointment was my fault because I didn't go looking for him after I'd be waiting a while. Keep in mind, I had never been to this office before, nor had I been seen by this doctor. I had no way of knowing whether he shares the office space with another clinician or even how to find him had I wandered beyond the waiting room. Oh, and I sat in the one place he apparently couldn't see me.
In my opinion, because he doesn't employ a receptionist and doesn't have any paperwork on the wall to the effect of, "If you haven't received assistance after 20 minutes, please come back and to the left to let us know," it is his responsibility to check his own waiting room. And if the placement of his furniture is problematic from the perspective he can't always see the people sitting on it, perhaps he needs to rearrange his furniture, rather than expect his patients (particularly, NEW patients) to read his mind and know that some are hidden from the field of vision.
What bugs me is, I wouldn't have been mad about the missed appointment or the waiting if he hadn't been such a jerk about it. I understand that mix-ups and mistakes happen, but to blame me for it? Nice bedside manner, dude.
So I went back today and received the treatment, which hurt beyond words. To begin with, I had to take an IV. As is so often the case when I'm dealing with arrogant, medical professional types, after I explained the veins in my arms would be nearly impossible to find, he insisted on trying anyway rather than going automatically through my hand like I suggested. Guess who was right?
The treatment consisted of hydrogen peroxide and Vitamin-C getting dispensed into my veins. And wouldn't you know it, hydrogen peroxide burns and hurts. Not that bringing this to his attention did me any good, because when I did and asked him to slow the drip, he curtly told me as I had just had a child, I could deal with it. Did I mention that this guy has the most fabulous bedside manner of any medical professional EVER, and the treatment lasted two hours?
Leaving was weird, because I felt completely high, and to the point that I was concerned about being pulled over only to have the officer think I was drunk. My tongue felt fuzzy, I was sure I was slurring my words, and I definitely had the jitters. But, I will say that my cold symptoms have subsided. Bonus, except that my stomach is incredibly upset. It might be the hydrogen, maybe? I'm not sure.
Tomorrow should be better. I'm taking Sephie to a Halloween party at the Birth Center (she'll be dressed as a lion!) which will probably be the highlight of my week, especially since we skipped the lactation clinic on Monday. And it's also her one-month birthday! We're getting family pictures taken on Saturday, but it's still so hard to believe how quickly the time has passed.
To begin with, I've gotten out two drafts in the last two days, which is putting me back on track with GS. I wanted to be submitting work all along, but recovering from Sephie's birth was harder than I ever imagined. In fact, sitting on hard surfaces for long isn't much of an option for me, because I'll inevitably feel the area around my stitches start to swell. And since I'm not too keen on swallowing Tylenol by the handful (anymore) I'd just prefer to avoid that altogether.
The work with GS is especially impressive because I have been sick. For the past week, I've been fighting a nasty cold. Most of the Clan got over it in two days, but due to breastfeeding, I can't take most of the cold stuff available. So Max suggested I go see this doctor that they occasionally send clients to who practices hydrogen peroxide therapy. Not knowing any better and thinking it sounded pretty innovative and being plain tired of being sick, I agreed. I just assumed he'd give me a shot.
I was totally wrong, but before I get to that, I should point out I had my first appointment with him yesterday, at 4:45. I arrived at his clinic, saw that the entry way was the waiting room, and sat down on the couch. I had been advised to bring a book, which I assumed to mean that he was a doctor who kept people waiting. A few minutes after I arrived, I noticed a patient leaving and heard someone make a phone call. I felt confident he would come and get me sooner rather than later, but by the time 5:15 rolled around, I began to think maybe I needed to give him a head's up that I was there. I sent out a few text messages, received replies, played a few rounds of Tetris and even took a phone call, speaking about a level louder than I normally would, but nothing happened and nobody came out.
Nearing six, I began to get really annoyed when a gaunt, older man appeared. He looked at me, stated my name, and told me I was almost two hours late. I politely informed him I had been in the waiting room since the scheduled appointment time, to which he looked at me incredulously and asked in a manner that suggested I shouldn't answer why I hadn't let him know I was there. I just looked at him in complete shock and said, "Because I didn't know where to find you?" He had me follow him back to his office because he said it was too late to treat me and we needed to reschedule. Of course, as is so typical of my luck these days, the only time he had available to see me conflicted with another appointment for a separate issue.
When I got back to the house, he had sent a pretty scathing e-mail to my in-laws, stating, "She arrived [allegedly] on time, came in silently, sat as quiet as a church mouse, and in such a way so that I couldn't see her from my office. We've rescheduled."
This message really pissed me off, for a few reasons.
1. He's making it pretty clear that he doesn't think I arrived on time. My friends will agree I tend to run late to lunches and movies, but my clinicians can't complain of the same. Why? Because your friends will wait for you. Your professionals won't, and most will charge you for the missed time.
2. He's apparently annoyed I entered his office making as little noise as possible and sat quietly instead of causing a ruckus. Really? REALLY?! I've been to a lot of doctors in my day with a wide range of specialties, and I have never encountered one where more noise would be appreciated. In fact, most have signs or something advising patients to be quiet in the waiting areas.
3. He obviously thinks the missed appointment was my fault because I didn't go looking for him after I'd be waiting a while. Keep in mind, I had never been to this office before, nor had I been seen by this doctor. I had no way of knowing whether he shares the office space with another clinician or even how to find him had I wandered beyond the waiting room. Oh, and I sat in the one place he apparently couldn't see me.
In my opinion, because he doesn't employ a receptionist and doesn't have any paperwork on the wall to the effect of, "If you haven't received assistance after 20 minutes, please come back and to the left to let us know," it is his responsibility to check his own waiting room. And if the placement of his furniture is problematic from the perspective he can't always see the people sitting on it, perhaps he needs to rearrange his furniture, rather than expect his patients (particularly, NEW patients) to read his mind and know that some are hidden from the field of vision.
What bugs me is, I wouldn't have been mad about the missed appointment or the waiting if he hadn't been such a jerk about it. I understand that mix-ups and mistakes happen, but to blame me for it? Nice bedside manner, dude.
So I went back today and received the treatment, which hurt beyond words. To begin with, I had to take an IV. As is so often the case when I'm dealing with arrogant, medical professional types, after I explained the veins in my arms would be nearly impossible to find, he insisted on trying anyway rather than going automatically through my hand like I suggested. Guess who was right?
The treatment consisted of hydrogen peroxide and Vitamin-C getting dispensed into my veins. And wouldn't you know it, hydrogen peroxide burns and hurts. Not that bringing this to his attention did me any good, because when I did and asked him to slow the drip, he curtly told me as I had just had a child, I could deal with it. Did I mention that this guy has the most fabulous bedside manner of any medical professional EVER, and the treatment lasted two hours?
Leaving was weird, because I felt completely high, and to the point that I was concerned about being pulled over only to have the officer think I was drunk. My tongue felt fuzzy, I was sure I was slurring my words, and I definitely had the jitters. But, I will say that my cold symptoms have subsided. Bonus, except that my stomach is incredibly upset. It might be the hydrogen, maybe? I'm not sure.
Tomorrow should be better. I'm taking Sephie to a Halloween party at the Birth Center (she'll be dressed as a lion!) which will probably be the highlight of my week, especially since we skipped the lactation clinic on Monday. And it's also her one-month birthday! We're getting family pictures taken on Saturday, but it's still so hard to believe how quickly the time has passed.