Today’s visit to the doctor is brought to you by the letter H. I plotted some good schemes with my friends on how to get the “receptionist” to behave, and when it came down to it today, I really didn’t care. I almost printed off the rate your doctor reports I found and left them for him to read with comments that said his staff was rated at a one, or the poorest possible rating. My best scheme, the one that had my friends laughing during lunch, would have been funny. Probably not to her, but I would have laughed. I asked them all to call the office and inquire about the receptionist job that was advertised.
Okay, so onto the next part. He came in and discussed the tests like it was nothing using his fancy jargon. Since I understood it, he asked me what medical school I went to. Not that I thought that was funny, as I feel it’s important to be educated on matters of your own health. I quoted normal ranges on some of his tests and since he ruled things out, he came to the conclusion I came to in February (refer to “Back at it again”). I have levels that indicate borderline Hashimoto’s disease. He did not even discuss it with me as he said he thought I should go back to my PCP. At this point, I wanted to scream. Instead, I calmly looked at him and told him that this has been going on for months. My PCP was not listening to me nor did he know what was wrong with me, which is why he referred me to a rheumatologist in the first place. All of my symptoms indicated a problem with the thyroid to begin with, and I would like a prescription now, not later. He looked at me, took out his little pad, and wrote me a prescription. I told him I was taking hot yoga and plan on going to a personal trainer. He told me those were two great choices. It is probably a good thing a nurse walked in because at that point I might have told him about Evilyn, his receptionist. In two months, he wants to see me again.
As I approached her lair, she who-must-not-be-named was on the phone again. She was ugly to this person as well and said really loud “I told you…” then when she got off the phone she was talking to herself. Saying something equally venomous. I tried to avoid eye contact like I was facing Medusa. It seemed to work. If needed, I carry a small mirror and could have produced it in time to avoid gazing at her directly. All in all, I guess it was a good visit this time. I made it out in one piece.
“All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” ~ Edmund Burke