Reasons why I hate dr. appointments:
1. Your appointment time is a fantasy. (I don't mind schedules running amok with drs who have emergencies. That I understand. But what's going on with the rest of them? I once was kept waiting in the exam room for 45 minutes by a dermatologist. I can't for the life of me think of a dermatological emergency.)
2. If you have to go to a doctor, and that doctor has offices in a building that charges for parking, couldn't they at least spring for a parking validation? (I was already in the lot when I remembered that I had very limited cash on hand. Thank goodness for the stash of change in the console.)
3. Speaking of parking, how about putting all the handicapped spaces on the level side of the building? Ever tried pushing a wheelchair up a hill? 'Taint easy, McGee. Not to mention how difficult it is to maintain control of a wheelchair going down a hill.
4. And, while I'm generally irritated by the vast plain of handicapped spaces at Wal-Mart, if there's anyplace that could use twice as many as usually available, it's a dr's parking lot. I seldom get to use a handicapped space at the dr.'s office. The thrill of unloading and loading first the wheelchair and then the patient in a space meant for a compact car at the bottom of a hill, about a mile away from the door, cannot be described with mere words.
5. Speaking of wheelchairs, wouldn't you think that a DOCTOR's office would realize the need for an area in the waiting room to accommodate their patients in wheelchairs? I am really, really tired of trying to negotiate a crowded waiting room pushing a wheelchair and lugging my purse and a bag of "what we may need" (e.g. water, medication, etc.). God forbid if there are two wheelchair-bound patients in the waiting room at the same time. Somebody is going to get a run-over foot.
6. Again on the subject of wheelchairs, try fitting the wheelchair in the tiny exam room where two hideous and uncomfortable chairs are fighting for space with the exam table, the dr's rolling stool, and assorted machines. Hint: pull the wheelchair into the room in reverse. Saves time on trying to get out of the room when it's over. Also, lose weight so you're skinny enough to squeeze back around the wheelchair and sit sideways on one of those hideous chairs because there's no room for your feet.
7. Now, with the situation as described above, and with an obviously disabled person perched in the wheelchair, to have an ever-so-cheerful nurse suggest that we "hop" up on the exam table, should be cause for a justifiable punch in the nose.
8. If a doctor asks you to call later in the day with a report from another doctor, and the other doctor actually volunteers to make the call himself, and the first doctor complains to the second doctor about how busy they are to be stopped to take a phone call, all I can say is WHAT THE HELL, LADY??
Okay, I'm done. I've decided that all these dr. visits I'm subjected to these days must be my version of purgatory. Surely, someday all this misery will be repaid with glory in the hereafter. Yeah, right.