Acute Bronchitis, possibly bordering on Pneumonia. That’s it. Nothing to worry about. A serious course of overpriced antibiotics, some cough medicine and lots of liquids and rest for 7 days… but blogging allowed (I am assuming the doctor knew what that meant, now that I think about it, he gave me this look that could have meant he understood it to be something else…). The last time I had this was about 7 years ago, but it was worse then. But I do have to rant about this particular doctor’s gatekeeper, secretary, assistant… she typifies a minority of folks in the country that I reserve an “automatic squeeze her/his neck akimbo stance” after dealing with them for just seconds.
First of all, I must say that most doctors, and I KNOW a lot of my readers are part of the medical profession, have less than totally logical and fair and efficient ways of booking appointments/consultations. Most will not give you a specific time to come see them if you need a consultation on short notice. Most will ask you to sign up, make pila on first come, first serve basis, etc. and in the end the patient wastes time, the doctor has a crowd, the hospital fills up with more germs, and the main reason given for this is that many people don’t show up at appointed times and therefor this bizarre procedure that WASTES an incredible amount of time… but that is my two cents worth… here was the actual exchange with this particular secretary (I try to replicate it as true to the real conversation, though I admit to slight exaggeration and embellishment):
Text to W (Secretary): How are appts. made with Dr. E? By phone? First Come, First Serve?
Text from W to MM: The earliest appt. you can have to see Dr. E is on Sept 28 (9 days later)…
MM calls W on her cellphone : “This is MM. I just texted you. Do you mean to tell me Dr E has no clinic hours where a dying sick person can seek a consultation? I have to wait until next week?”
W answers: “Yes, sir. Kasi taga embassy kayo, by appointment only. (Because you are an embassy person, you can only come by appointment).”
MM says: “Now, how the heck can you tell I am from an embassy from my text alone? And which embassy am I from?”
W answers: “Ay, hindi kayo embassy?” (Oh, you aren’t an embassy?)
MM says: “What are you talking about? I need a consultation with Dr. E for my lungs, I don’t need a bloody visa, for God’s sake. So how do I get an appointment for tomorrow, do I just go to your office and line up if I am dying???”
W says: “Yes, you line up. Office Hours from 4 to 6 pm. But the doctor is here from 4:30 only”
MM says: “Okay, so if I go at 3p.m., will that mean I will be among the first in line?”
W says: “Depende sa listahan.” (It depends on the list).
MM says: “What list, you said it was first come first serve and I have to line up.”
W says: “You have to sign up on a list that I put outside the office at 1 o’clock pa.”
MM says “@!%#@!!!!!, W, why the heck didn’t you say that from the beginning so that I know what your process is??? So if I go at 12:30, and there is no one in the hallway with me at your office door, I will be DEFINITELY number 1 for the 4:30 arrival of the doc?”
W says: “Ay maybe sir.”
MM says: “Okay, Miss W, I will be there at 12 noon and will swat away anyone else who tries to cut in front of me and IF I am not first on that list and no mysterious names crop up then I will be assured no long wait when the doctor arrives. And if you screw me, I won’t let you forget it.”
W texts 5 hours later: “Sino kayo, who are you, full name please.”
MM says: “Why?”
W texts: “Because I can just put you as #1 on the list for tomorrow’s appointments”
ARRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!! Some people should not ever be allowed to breed as they would certainly dilute the global gene pool.
As if that weren’t enough, upon arrival at 4:15 at the Doc’s office:
W says: “Yes? (With raised kilay pa (arched eyebrow, no less)”
MM says: “I am MM.”
W says: “Flease wait outside.”
W screams in Market-like tones: “MM, Flease pill in these porms.”
MM says: “I am a frevious fatient, have you looked for my pile?”
W says: “NO, you are not a fatient yet. Flease pill this in.”
MM says: “Are you sure? My name is MM. Did you look for my pile?”
W says: After searching for 3 minutes, “Ay, ya, you are fatient na fala…hahaha.”
Now tell me, would I go to jail if I hit the silly woman with my second pile polder and stuck my ballpen where the sun doesn’t shine???
If I weren’t peeling so sick, I would have funched her in the pace while screaming “if I paint, it’s because I am no longer a fatient fatient!!!”