Ooh a rant…

<- Photo unrelated to post: my child being attacked by pink frilly ruffles.

Lots of re-damn-diculous crap has happened this week, culminating in the absolute cluster I experienced today at the OB’s office. I was there for my 6-week post-partum appointment (OK, so I forgot to schedule it at 6 weeks…11 is close, right?), baby and necessary accoutrements in tow. My appointment was at 3:30. No problem. I finished nursing Pooks at around 3, we loaded up the car and set out.

We got there and signed in, and I noticed that the waiting room was hot as hell (which is normal) and absolutely full (which isn’t). The longer we sat there (at this point the baby was still being quite charming, cooing and laughing at everyone), the more disgruntled I noticed everyone seemed. One old lady stage-whispered to the woman beside her, “I’ve been here for 2 hours.” I thought that couldn’t possibly be right, but as time wore on I started to believe her.

Then baby got fussy.
Then the baby got hungry.
Then the baby got supremely pissed off.
None of these things is good in a packed, sweltering waiting room.

I lugged my wailing child over to the receptionist and asked if there might be somewhere I could nurse, and she showed me back to an unused room containing a big X-Ray machine of some kind, assuring me they’d come for me momentarily. It was 5:30.
We nursed forever in that room before I went back to the hallway, convinced they’d forgotten to call me. Nope…it still wasn’t my turn.

Looooooong story short, I went to the office at 3:30, didn’t see the doctor until 6:30, and didn’t get back to my car until 7:00.

I don’t even know what to say about the experience- it was ridiculous beyond belief. To make a patient (and a baby) wait for that amount of time is bonkers. It must come with being pretty much the only game in town, girl-doctor-wise. And I could have seen another doctor, but I was scared of getting stuck with the one I had a fight with when I was pregnant (a lovely story for another post).
(But I did get to hear my doctor use the phrase “fecal incontinence,” which I’ll definitely be working into my everyday conversations from now on. grah-doo.)

So the good news is that all is well with me, but the bad news is that while I was there my child grew up, went to college, got a medical degree, did her residency, and did the exam herself. 

Comments

[the old gray mare]

Good grief! They are in desperate need of a new office manager...stuff like that just should not happen. Two words come to mind...overbooked and reschedule

[roll the bones]

Unbelievable. I remember my wife have a similar experience - though not nearly as long - after the birth of one of our three.

BTW, I'm surprised you haven't commented on the Miss Teen South Carolina thing and the fact that she is planning on attending ASU to major in graphic design.