I called my doctor's office to see if they were still running a walk-in clinic. It seems I had this wrong, it was an after hours clinic, appointment still necessary. Now, first off, my doctor is awesome. I credit the guy with saving my life on more than one occasion. He's always been good about answering any questions I've had (or my mom's when I was in hospital), checks to see what my drug coverage is before prescribing me stuff (when necessary... I left my old doctor because I felt he was a pill pusher) and always asks about work/home/ general stress levels and such.
But oh my god, I hate my doctor's office. Getting an appointment is a pain in the ass. First, the line is always busy. If I do manage to get through, I am inevitably put on hold. This wouldn't be such a problem if it wasn't for the fact that one day I was in the waiting room when the phone rang and I watched as the receptionist put the caller on hold to finish the story she was telling to another assistant. NOW whenever I get put on hold I sit and wonder if they're just standing there talking about their weekend. As someone who answers phones as part of her own job, it's appalling. I'm pretty sure if I were to put a customer on hold so I could finish telling someone about the party I went to on the weekend, I wouldn't have this job very long.
Then if you get through, it's usually a three week wait to get an appointment, which is useless, since I'm sick now. This usually means going to emerg, or ploughing through and doing nothing. To me the Emergency room is for emergencies. You know, when you're having a heart attack or you've just chopped off an extremity or have been shot in the ass with a pellet gun or you're doubled over in pain from some mystery ailment. Sore throat and general malaise is not an emergency.
I accidentally let both my portable phones go dead. Seems when I made banana bread last week and needed to free up an outlet for the mixer I unplugged the phone charger, not the charger for the powerdrill. As a result I had to call from my cell.
Rec: Doctors' Office, Can I get you to hold please?
Me: Uhm, no actually, I'm calling from a cell phone, I'd rather not hold. I just have a quick question.
Rec: *exaggerated sigh* What is your question?
Seriously? Pardon me for not wanting to pay by the minute for dead air. Nope, don't even get the benefit of cheesy on hold music. Just an intermittent 'beep beep' to let me know they haven't hung up on me outright.
Speaking of cheesy music, I feel I am failing as a mother. Yesterday my nine-year-old asked me to mail a letter for her. It was a fan letter.
|T's new role model. Oh lucky lucky me. *sigh*|
Bask in my pride, all.
I think this is her way of rebelling early. She plays Top 40 radio in her room, and next thing you know, she'll be wearing Aeropostale and watching reality TV.
I do kind of wish I had scanned the letter before I sent it, though. I may be failing in exerting my cultural influence, but on the bright side, her penmanship has already surpassed my own. So that's something.
While we're on the subject of cheesy music, I've had Miley Cyrus' "Party in the USA" in my head all morning. After a broken sleep of many small snippets of bizarre yet vivid dreams that are all but faded from my memory now. Something about a dock, and swimming, and Reegs as a baby, and Hamish Linklater being my cousin, only his name was Shaun. Weirdness.
So me and my swollen-ass glands are headed back to the couch to rewatch a few more movies until it's time to go pick the kiddies up from their dad's.