I went to see my doctor on Tuesday, and my visit confirmed two things. One, I don’t like my PCP. Two, I will never be one of those mothers who thinks my child is entitled to use a public waiting room like it’s her own personal playroom.
The whole reason I went to see my doctor is because I’ve been having a lot of stomach pain and discomfort. I’ve also been feeling really out of it when I’m hungry. My doctor wanted to know how many hours I wait between meals and snacks, and she asked me what I had eaten so far that day. When I answered her, she looked at me like I had six heads. She furrowed her brow and screwed up her face like I had just thrown up on her.
I guess she didn’t like my answers. A+ for bedside manner.
She proceeded to ask me some questions that I felt could have been answered by looking at my chart. In particular, one of her questions was about my weight and whether I’ve experienced any weight gain. She didn’t ask about a time frame or an amount. I wasn’t really sure what to say, although, “Look at my chart, dummy,” was on the tip of my tongue.
At the end of my appointment, she told me she was going to have the nurse come back to do a quick blood test. She specifically said she would come back and explain the results to me. The nurse took the sample, left the room, and came back a few minutes later telling me I was free to leave. I had to ask whether my doctor was coming back to talk to me (no) and if the test result was OK (apparently it wasn’t worth explaining to me). No wonder so many people leave their doctors’ offices feeling confused and ill-informed.
Before I left the office, I had to stop at the pharmacy to pick up a prescription. When I got there, a girl who looked like she was about 4 years old was spread out on the floor completely blocking the path to the “Pick Up” window. She was on her stomach, coloring in a coloring book, kicking her little Ugg-clad feet back and forth in the air behind her. Her mother was standing a few feet away, just watching and looking on as everyone awkwardly stepped over and around her daughter. I can only guess this woman’s lack of common sense and courtesy had something to do with her ability to ignore completely miss all the death stares people were giving her. She was precisely the type of person who would have had a hissy fit if someone had stepped on her daughter or tripped over her. I’m not saying I wanted that to happen, but it would have made for an interesting scene.
