I went to the doctor for a check-up today. Nothing vital, not sick, just a check-up. Going to the doctor involves a certain level of stress. I have to interrupt my work, take another shower (no way I'm going smelling like the dogs I've had climbing on me all morning), shave my legs, put on "real clothes" (changing out of the comfy clothes I wear while writing), and style my hair instead of just letting it dry wild and curly. I always wait until the absolute last second to start getting ready so I can spend more time writing, therefore, I am always rushing and stressed. As I was stumbling out the door, grabbing my purse and keys, the dogs shot out and we played a fun game of "Get in the house!" vs. "You can't catch me!" which made me even later and more stressed.
I got to the doctor's office on time, unbelievably. I was only in the waiting room for a minute or two before they were ready to take me back to the examining room. I wasn't nervous about the appointment, since I like my doctor a lot and we have a good relationship--he takes good care of me and in return, I bust his chops, all in good fun, I assure you. The nurse did the dreaded weigh-in and then took my blood pressure and gave me a shot. We chatted for a minute and then she left, promising Dr. X would be in shortly. I sat staring into space for awhile, thinking about the plot of the book I'm working on. I could hear Dr. X in the hall talking, then in the room next to mine talking, and I figured he wouldn't be too much longer. After about a half hour, I decided to take my Kindle out of my purse and do a little reading. Usually, as soon as I take it out, whoever I'm waiting for shows up, but not this time. It was strange to be waiting so long, since this doctor's office is pretty good about getting you in and out quickly, but I thought maybe the patient before me had a problem that needed extra time.
After an hour had passed of me reading a few sentences and then looking up at the door, reading a few sentences and looking up at the door, I started to wonder if there had been some kind of emergency. Ten more minutes went by and the door finally opened. The same nurse who had taken my vitals stuck her head in and asked, "Would you like to see Dr. Y instead?" I answered, "No, that's okay, I'll wait for Dr. X. Is he going to be much longer?" She got kind of a funny look on her face and said, "Well, you see, that's the problem. Dr. X isn't here. He must have skipped your name on the list. He went home for the day."
After I closed my gaping mouth and gathered my things, I followed her into the hall. Dr. Y was standing there. He apologized and offered to give me my check-up instead, which was very nice of him, but 1) I don't know Dr. Y 2) He doesn't know me and my medical history 3) I had very specific questions to ask Dr. X concerning things we'd discussed at my last appointment and most importantly 4) I couldn't bust this strange doctor's chops. I mean, I didn't shave my legs and blow dry my hair for "Breathe in, breathe out." After going to all that trouble, I wanted to be seen by a doctor I could share some banter with.
So I said no thank you and rescheduled my appointment for next week. I'm planning to take a big poster with a picture of myself on it and lots of brightly colored ribbons and bows to tape to the examining room door to remind him that I'm in there. If I knew which car was his, I'd leave a big note on it telling him to be sure to check all the rooms before he leaves from now on. Maybe he's chuckling to himself right now, thinking he pulled a fast one by slipping out today, but all he really did was give me a whole week to think of ways to use this new ammunition against him.
It could have been worse. When I showed up, they could have told me I came on the wrong day. Or after sitting in there waiting all that time, they could have said, "What are you still doing in here? The doctor is finished with you. You can go," leaving me asking myself the question, "Am I crazy? Or is it them?"
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