Doctor's offices are not a place of fear for me. Well, perhaps they are. But not because I'm afraid of whatever needles or germs may be coming my way. Rather, I stress just a little as three little people run rampant through the waiting room.
A few days ago I took my youngest in for a routine check up with our family doctor. The doctor's office requests that you arrive 15 minutes early for your appointment. Being the conscientious individual I am, we showed 20 minutes early. Why this is necessary is beyond me as we spent those 20 minutes cooling our heels. We then logged an additional 20 minutes while my daughter scattered books, did laps around the chairs, checked out the contents of the water cooler and threw a fit because I wouldn't let her pull the magazine rack down from the wall. Mean Mama. Finally, the nurse called us back.
First thing the nurse did was to place my daughter on the scale. Then she took her back to the exam room where she took her temperature with a rectal thermometer. At this juncture, the nurse looks at me and says "is she in a cranky mood? in need of a nap? food?" Mind you, my daughter is laying politely on her back, holding her little feet while something hard and gooey has been shoved up ... Well, I'll avoid getting graphic at this stage of the game. Just to recap, my one year old has just sat for 40 minutes in the waiting room, been put on the scale and then put on the table for some vitals. Any one of these, least of all someone weighing me, is enough to put me in a cranky mood. In my opinion, my daughter is being downright serene. What exactly they expect from a one year old is outside my realm of comprehension.
The nurse finishes her three minutes of checking vitals, assures us the doctor will be along soon and leaves the office. We now wait for another half an hour for the physician. Thirty minutes. If this seems like a long time to you, imagine how it feels to a one year old. I'm quickly going through my bag of tricks here while she looks forward to being poked and prodded some more. We've had a snack. Found the cap to an old syringe on the floor. Probably better not to ask. Stole a tongue depressor from the doctor. Made a balloon out of a rubber glove. Good news is that she has three shots at the end of her yellow brick road. Good times for all. And they want to ask if my child is cranky?
In this doctor's defense, once you finally get your moment in the sun, he is willing to take all the time you need. If you have questions he answers them, not once pushing you out the door. More than can be said for the doctor I saw the other day.
There was myself and one other patient in the office. Early morning appointment, so not too crowded. After 30 minutes of waiting to see the doctor I was rushed along like a product through an assembly line. Not quite sure where the doctor was rushing to as there was no one else waiting after us. I can assure you, though, that I still had lingering questions when I left. Not the least of which was how I ended up in that office. Fortunately, he had a very kind staff, so they were able to clear a few things up for me.
Mind you, I am not so much of a snob that I mind waiting my turn. I appreciate the fact that quality takes time. I understand that doctors are overbooked. (Yes, I have seen the check in list. At one appointment, there were three other patients with the exact same appointment time as I with the exact same doctor.) At the same time, I get frustrated with the concept that my time is not as important. During one visit, I was ten minutes late walking in the door due to a series of unfortunate events. I was actually told that they would not see me that day due to the fact that I was running late. In as calm a voice as I could I mentioned to the nurse that I had driven an hour to be there for that appointment and that the last time I was there I had waited 1.5 hours to see the doctor. Surely they could spare me ten minutes of their time. Not to mention the fact that it costs me 300 dollars for the few minutes that we actually spend with the doctor while we are there. To put that in perspective, my husband makes just over ten dollars an hour. That means, it takes him almost one week of work to pay for that visit. The doctor saw me.
I'm grateful we have good doctors. I'm grateful that we have access to care when we need it. All I ask in return is to put the same value on my time as you do on your own. And if you're going to make my daughter wait an extended period for her shots, at least don't act surprised if she's a little out of sorts.
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