Comparison of desk staff at the (so far) three doctor's offices I've been to:
Eye doctor #1: brusque, hurried, cold. (Although Dr. Ma herself is an absolute doll. Much as I hate going to doctors, if she was a doctor of everything, I'd gladly go to her for everything.)
Eye doctor #2: brusque, more hurried, very cold.
MRI office: friendly, pleasant and helpful.
Which of these people do you think is having a more pleasant day herself behind the counter? (And why are doctor's receptionists always women?)
And I myself am often guilty of being brusque, hurried and cold to the people who come to me for help in my job. Hello, see what it feels like? I'm gonna try and remember to be more like the MRI women from now on.
Showing posts with label doctors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label doctors. Show all posts
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Friday, October 3, 2008
Dagnabit.
I am not going to bother with paragraphs today, except for this one. This will be fairly stream of consciousness because I have to get this stuff off my mind just now.
So I went for the three and a half hour eye exam with the neurologist eye doctor today, and he said the same thing the second eye doctor said - that it's either a thyroid problem or a brain tumor. Only even he would not say the words "brain tumor". "It might be a tumor" he said. It's a little like the one and a little like the other and not quite exactly like either of them, not exact enough for a real diagnosis. Nope, we need to do more tests. So now I have to go for two MRI's, one of my brain and one of my eye. I had to ask where to go to get them. He looked at me as if I had suddenly started speaking pig Latin. "Well, you could go across the street" he said. I'm not that stupid. I am actually aware that there is a gargantuan hospital across the street from the specialist eye center. No, mr. fancy eye doctor neurologist guy, you're not helping. "I'm the one who never goes to doctors, remember?" I said to him. "I have no idea how to navigate the health care system." And I never wanted to have to learn. I was kind of hoping I'd just live to a disease-free moderately mature oldish age and then one day just keel over suddenly, never having darkened the door of a doctor's office my whole life long. I have a horror of doctors. So naturally and of course it is now my karma to have to be seeing more doctors than you can shake a stick at. He realized how clueless I am. He gave me explicit directions to the MRI office in the gargantuan building across the street, thank you, that's what I was asking for. So I put on my little temporary celluloid sunglasses to protect my eyedrop-induced dilated pupils from the overcast daylight, walked into the gargantuan building across the street, and made two appointments for the two MRI's. I made one appointment for a Saturday and one for 6:45 a.m on Yom Kippur morning. I always take Yom Kippur off from work, but I don't go to synagogue anymore, so that was perfect. I can quietly go and get my brain scanned and nobody at work will know about it. It's bad enough I couldn't think up a good enough excuse to get today off when we're already short-staffed, so I told the truth and said I had to go in for a doctor's appointment. I didn't say why I had to see the doctor though, and it's nice that they're not allowed to ask. I had to sign a Hippo form (honestly, that's what I thought she said) - the one about who, other than doctors, they are allowed to share my medical information with - and it was lovely to check off the box labeled "Nobody". No spouse, no child, no other person. I authorize NOBODY to know about this. Yes! I decided long ago that if I ever got a serious illness I would try to keep it a secret. Lo and behold, now's my opportunity. Lucky me. I have lots of reasons for not wanting anybody to know. And I do mean not anybody. Not my parents, not my siblings, not my friends. I don't want to burden the people closest to me with a terrible knowledge they can't do anything about. I don't want to find myself talking about it all the time, or at all for that matter. I don't want people treating me differently or feeling sorry for me. I don't want to find my conversation suddenly taken over by the subjects of doctors, treatments, symptoms, diagnoses, insurance, etc. etc. etc. And I don't want to find myself getting all self-absorbed and dramatic, as I've seen some people do. I would just rather not let anybody know.
On the other hand I do feel a need to tell somebody, to talk about it a little bit, just to get it off my chest because it is a little too sharp to entirely hold inside in silence. Like letting out a burp.
So, here we are. God bless the Internet. I can talk about it to total strangers and nobody gets hurt. Now I've told you, and I feel much better. Thanks for listening.
I'll be back with my inspirational words of wisdom when I think of some.
So I went for the three and a half hour eye exam with the neurologist eye doctor today, and he said the same thing the second eye doctor said - that it's either a thyroid problem or a brain tumor. Only even he would not say the words "brain tumor". "It might be a tumor" he said. It's a little like the one and a little like the other and not quite exactly like either of them, not exact enough for a real diagnosis. Nope, we need to do more tests. So now I have to go for two MRI's, one of my brain and one of my eye. I had to ask where to go to get them. He looked at me as if I had suddenly started speaking pig Latin. "Well, you could go across the street" he said. I'm not that stupid. I am actually aware that there is a gargantuan hospital across the street from the specialist eye center. No, mr. fancy eye doctor neurologist guy, you're not helping. "I'm the one who never goes to doctors, remember?" I said to him. "I have no idea how to navigate the health care system." And I never wanted to have to learn. I was kind of hoping I'd just live to a disease-free moderately mature oldish age and then one day just keel over suddenly, never having darkened the door of a doctor's office my whole life long. I have a horror of doctors. So naturally and of course it is now my karma to have to be seeing more doctors than you can shake a stick at. He realized how clueless I am. He gave me explicit directions to the MRI office in the gargantuan building across the street, thank you, that's what I was asking for. So I put on my little temporary celluloid sunglasses to protect my eyedrop-induced dilated pupils from the overcast daylight, walked into the gargantuan building across the street, and made two appointments for the two MRI's. I made one appointment for a Saturday and one for 6:45 a.m on Yom Kippur morning. I always take Yom Kippur off from work, but I don't go to synagogue anymore, so that was perfect. I can quietly go and get my brain scanned and nobody at work will know about it. It's bad enough I couldn't think up a good enough excuse to get today off when we're already short-staffed, so I told the truth and said I had to go in for a doctor's appointment. I didn't say why I had to see the doctor though, and it's nice that they're not allowed to ask. I had to sign a Hippo form (honestly, that's what I thought she said) - the one about who, other than doctors, they are allowed to share my medical information with - and it was lovely to check off the box labeled "Nobody". No spouse, no child, no other person. I authorize NOBODY to know about this. Yes! I decided long ago that if I ever got a serious illness I would try to keep it a secret. Lo and behold, now's my opportunity. Lucky me. I have lots of reasons for not wanting anybody to know. And I do mean not anybody. Not my parents, not my siblings, not my friends. I don't want to burden the people closest to me with a terrible knowledge they can't do anything about. I don't want to find myself talking about it all the time, or at all for that matter. I don't want people treating me differently or feeling sorry for me. I don't want to find my conversation suddenly taken over by the subjects of doctors, treatments, symptoms, diagnoses, insurance, etc. etc. etc. And I don't want to find myself getting all self-absorbed and dramatic, as I've seen some people do. I would just rather not let anybody know.
On the other hand I do feel a need to tell somebody, to talk about it a little bit, just to get it off my chest because it is a little too sharp to entirely hold inside in silence. Like letting out a burp.
So, here we are. God bless the Internet. I can talk about it to total strangers and nobody gets hurt. Now I've told you, and I feel much better. Thanks for listening.
I'll be back with my inspirational words of wisdom when I think of some.
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