You Told Me So

I am not a fan of doctors.

It isn't that I am scared of them, or that I think they are ineffective. I just think most doctors are douchebags. Yes, there are exceptions. My Ob/Gyn. Our friend Andrew. Doctors Zhivago and Doolittle. Actually, scratch those last two, they both have MAJOR issues.

The douchiest of doctors, I have found, work at "urgent care" clinics, or "Instacare." Really, it's as if in the interviews these doctors are asked if they have any sympathy or respect for patients, and, if they answer yes, they are told to find employment elsewhere. The last time I was forced to go to such a clinic I had contracted a parasite in Mexico. I was having my period at the time of my visit, and yet had to answer numerous questions about whether or not I was pregnant. I almost showed him my tampon. I know, gross, but he pushed me.

Last week, when this cold started, I assumed it would just run it's course. I would spit gross things in the shower every morning, snore like Darth Vader at night, and in four days it would be over. And it was -- in a way. The snottiness left, as did the sneeziness, but they were replaced by a headache that would not quit, teeth that felt like they were about to come out, achy ears, and dizziness. Tara said I had a sinus infection. My friend Christy concurred. I scoffed at both, as I had never had a sinus infection, and realized it meant I would have to see a doctor. Oh, and I already knew I wasn't pregnant.

This morning, I knew I had no choice. I wished I could take my head off. I couldn't bend over. Sneezing, coughing, and blood running through my body hurt. I couldn't dry my hair. I went to work, but found myself crying at my desk. I knew what I had to do. I had to seek help -- at Instacare.

I could give you a blow by blow, but that would just be more annoying that the actual visit -- and it was very annoying. When the doctor entered I told her I thought I had a sinus infection, and needed antibiotics. I said my head and upper jaw hurt, and they still hurt even when I took cold medicine. I said I was dizzy. She then explained back to me exactly what I had said, only as if she was showing a two year old how finger puppets work. She then asked to listen to my chest. I told her it hadn't gone into my chest. She then told me my chest was clear. Oh, and added "sweetie" on the end. She was my age.

I could have forgiven all of this if, when I came out of the exam room to get my prescription, she had either looked my way, or said something to me. However, she was too busy dishing about a previous patient (hello, HIPAA) to another doctor, and basically threw my prescription at me over her shoulder.

I wish I had licked all of her pens.

At least she gave me antibiotics. They would be better with Vicodin mixed in, but who am I to complain... No one in her eyes.

Next time I am just calling Andrew.