My
Doctor's Visit
A Review by Jessica
McCartney
As I said previously
in my review of Nyquil Liquicaps, I AM somewhat of a hypochondriac. I
have tried in my adult years to curb my doctor visits (mainly because I'M
footing the bill at this point), and I have TRIED to ignore the vague
symptoms that I sometimes get that convince me I have flesh eating
bacteria, botulism or some other horrific, rampant disease. Last
Saturday, however, I think I got a hold of some bad, bad chili paste at a
make your own stir fry place, and I have suffered as a result.
Physical pain, yes. But no pain so horrific as the THREE HOUR AND
FIFTEEN MINUTE visit to my local, caring physician. LET'S
BEGIN...SHALL WE?
Early Tuesday morning and I mean early, like 2:00, I woke up, crying,
doubled over in pain, praying for the release of death or at least a day
off of work. So I stayed up and watched some Howard Stern repeats on
E! and then Real Sex 23 on HBO…it all made me sicker. It was then
that I decided I should probably call the doctor. I went to work,
made my appointment for 1:00, assured that by 2:00, I would be home in my
bed, watching Sally and petting my dog. HOW WRONG I WAS.
Arriving at the doctor's office at 12:45 so I wouldn't miss my appointment,
(this will be funny later) I sat, nearly crying, next to a man who was
hellbent on teaching me Esperanto and was wearing A STAR TREK TIE. He
told me that he taught astronomy and that his last name is often
mispronounced as SALAMI… BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I
smiled politely at him and started going through my checkbook to get him
off my back. Not two minutes later, a round man came in with his four
week old daughter and sat on my other side.
"Are you a parent yourself?"
"Not yet," I groaned, putting my head between my legs and
wiping the sweat from my brow.
"You're going to love it…it's the greatest. Look at her
tiny little fingers…isn't she beautiful?"
"Yes."
Apparently, my constant foot tapping and animalistic groaning was NO CUE
for him that I was not in the conversation mood. He told me that he's
in the portable music business…as opposed to the music I had PERMANENTLY installed,
and that if I ever needed "some music in my life" to call
him. A nurse came out and asked what was the problem with the
baby…and the man says,
"She's got a case of the screaming cheetah wheelies."
All of us stopped, and for the first time in three days I nearly laughed.
"What?"
"She has diarrhea" The man laughed at his own little
term for it and started to talk about his love of the moon and stars.
I glanced at the clock…1:45. ONE FORTY FIVE. MY APPOINTMENT WAS
FOR ONE O'CLOCK.
"Jennifer?"
"Jessica."
"Right, listen Jen, I'm going to find a doctor for you ok,
sweetie?"
OK, look. FIND ME A DOCTOR? FIND ME A DOCTOR? I made an
appointment for one o'clock. I made the effort to call and MAKE THE
APPOINTMENT…a doctor should be there…waiting, no? It's like that
Seinfeld line, "Anyone can TAKE a reservation, but the key is HOLDING
on to it."
So, I get called into the little, doctor's room and I'm told that the
doctor will be in "shortly". It is 2:15. I have not
eaten anything in two days…I haven't had any caffeine, I'm dehydrated, and
I have a pain in my stomach that causes me to involuntarily bend at the
waist. I say a little prayer for the doctor to walk
in…right…now… After a few minutes of waiting, I decided to stretch
out on the examining table and rest my eyes. I woke up at 3:00, and
still had not seen a doctor. Finally, at 3:15, a young intern, a doctor
Carterish boy came in WEARING A RETAINER and said, "Dr. Crawford is
busy so I'll be helping you out today." I didn't want to make
the boy nervous so I pretended he was a real doctor. It was hard
though because he giggled when he asked when my last period was and he had
trouble asking me what color my vomit is. After I told him my plight, he
left to get the real doctor and she came in at 3:40, just I was about to
doze off again. She told Dr. Youngblood that he had to perform a
pelvic exam on me. The poor youth went positively ashen and I did my
best to make him comfortable throughout the process, pretending like pelvic
exams are my daily routine. They left me to change into my clothes,
but my underwear had fallen behind the examining table, so I had to crawl
under the table to find them and just narrowly escaped being seen that way.
In the end…at 4:00, the doctor told me that something I ate irritated my
stomach. I pointed out that THAT was what I thought it was in the
beginning, but she brushed it off. She put me on a diet of water,
crackers, applesauce, rice and bananas and asked me to call her if my
diarrhea gets "interesting". She's got to have SOME social
life.
In the end, this was the most excruciating doctor's visit I have ever
endured…and believe me, I've been to the doctor A LOT, but after following
the cracker diet for only 18 hours, I DO feel about 70% better, so it
wasn't a total loss.
Grade: D
All content © 1999 Absurd Pamphlet Press
|
|