Doc-In-A-Box

So you all know I’ve been sick lately and can’t seem to shake it off. I’m not sure why since I spend all my time crammed into airplanes carrying a bunch of other sick people and blowing recycled air on top of my head, but that’s another issue. While I was off in Kentucky, my husband tried to get me an appointment with my doctor, but he’s not available until next Monday. Well, finally, yesterday enough was enough and I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed antibiotics and if I had to hold up a pharmacy, I was getting some. The whole cold moved into my chest and when that happens, it’s all over but the penicillin.

So I make an appointment at the “doc-in-a-box.’ (read – urgent care facility) and head out of work a little early, hoping to beat the sick work crowd that would descend on them after 5:00. With my appointment, I got to wait another 2 hours in the lobby with a bunch of other sick people all breathing and recycling the same air. (sigh) That was when several things came to mind that bothered me (it was probably the fever) and I wanted to mention a few here.

First off – you sit in the lobby forever before they ask you to do paperwork. When they give you the paperwork, they take your license and insurance card and then of course, the paperwork asks for all that information. Like I run around with my company’s health insurance policy number memorized. Hell, I don’t even know my license number. So I walk back to the counter and say – “I need my cards to finish filling this out. Why exactly do you take them then ask me to put that information on your forms?” Everyone in the waiting room laughed – then coughed. Apparently, they all wondered the same thing but I was the only person sick enough to finally ask.

Second off – It took them two hours to see five people but the doctor only spent about five minutes total with me. So – five people, five minutes each – that’s twenty-five minutes. What the hell was he doing the rest of that time? And besides, if they really wanted to make things efficient, I could have sped up the whole process with a military style inspection. Simply line us up in the lobby and have everyone cough. We all left with the same damned prescription, anyway. And I know this because two of the people who were in the doc’s office lobby got to stand in line with me at the pharmacy while THEY missed all their promised deadlines.

The official verdict: I have bronchitis.

The second official verdict: I don’t have time to be sick.

The third official verdict: The worst of this is supposed to be gone by tomorrow and I will spend the rest of the weekend trying to finish UNLUCKY and get it out the door.

You just gotta love spring allergies.