Paging Dr. Dick...

My doctor is sending me to a specialist, it's nothing serious. A second opinion, really and that's about all I'm willing to share. I called to set up an appointment, this was August. I called and was told he could see me in mid-November. I got to pick the time. Gol-ly! I can see where my tax dollars are going. What if I had some nasty, bubbling growth coming out the side of my face? "We'll see you in 4 light-years then, OK dear?" Anyway, I stressed to the secretary that I had work (like everyone else) and needed a late appointment so as not to miss too much of the workday.

Last Friday was PMS week. I received a message on my answering machine. It seems that they decided to move my appointment... to 1245pm. What the fuck. Did my request about a late timeslot go right out the window? I guess when you have to book your appointment before time began, paper was invented and common sense came about details are bound to be left out. Let's see, I go to work for 3 hours, take a 1 1/2 hour ride on the Rocket going the speed of a hamster on a wheel to the specialist, wait maybe another hour for him to finish picking his toenails and playing Hangman on his deskpad, see him for about 5 minutes.. long enough for him to tell me everything's fine. Return flight to work ETA 1 1/2 hour, try to do something productive for an hour and go home. Weee! Too late to call Friday, so it had to wait until Monday. Week of constant irritations and discomfort. Get it?

So I call Monday and the chipper receptionist answers the phone. I explain my situation and she says it had to be moved because the doctor decided to close earlier due to blah blah fiddlesticks. It really didn't sound important. Already stewing from the situation and having her being so damn chipper didn't help. I asked why they booked a 4pm appointment if he wanted to go home at 330pm. Blah twee blah. I told her I needed to go to work and didn't need to be graced by his presence in the middle of the day. Oh, I just realized what I called him in the title. It's not for that... I don't have one of those. I just wanted to call him something rude and derogatory.

So finally I told her to give me another appointment because I wasn't taking the 1245. She flips some pages and cheerily tells me he's available in December. More than a little exasperated I ordered her to give me something on or around the original date in November I had booked. I wasn't going to wait another month for him to look at my nasty, bubbly-growth (I'm joking). I realize it's not her fault, I know I got a lot of irate callers when I was working for my former manager. It's frustration, if I could take it out on him instead I would. Y'know, maybe I still will... after he tells me I'm OK. Huh. What do you know, all of a sudden he can see me same day at 245pm.

I bet she bitches to him and he gives me lots of terrible news when I see him.