The Paininthebuttock Oath

Everyone has their thing, right? The thing that sets them off and makes them irrationally, inexplicably angry? You know what I'm talking about. For some people, it's racism and injustice. For others, it's neglect and carelessness. For me, it's medical office staffers. That's right, the woman behind the sliding glass window that hands you the clipboard and takes your co-pay. That's her. She and her ilk are the evil force in the universe that fill me with rageful raging rage. I hate 'em.

Why, you might ask, am I pathologically angry at people who are just trying to do their job? It probably all stems back to when I was being treated for cancer. I'd never been appreciably sick in my life to that point and was feeling a little vulnerable and frightened at the time. I expected my doctors and all their helpers to be angels of mercy. I don't know if I had unrealistically high expectations or if my doctor and his staff just really sucked canal water.

All I know for sure is that when Suzanne and I were sitting out in the waiting room with half a dozen other people, eagerly awaiting the results of the biopsy of my recently removed man-bit, I could clearly and distinctly hear the office girl on the phone with the pathology department.

"Yeah, I'm calling about Mark Brown's path report."
Pause.
"Mark Brown. B-r-o-w-n."
Pause.
"It was a left orchiectomy."
Pause.
"You can't?"
Pause.
"You can't find his testicle?"
She puts her hand over the receiver at that point and says to the other woman behind the desk, "Path can't find this guy's testicle. Can you believe that?"

All of this was basically broadcast to the entire office. I doubt many people realized I was the guy whose - y'know - was missing but I just remember my face burning and feeling so angry and embarrassed. All of this was compounded when my doctor, who was one of the most interpersonally challenged people ever to earn a medical degree, was late as usual. He was never, ever on time. An average wait time for him was 45 minutes. He had meetings, other patients, obligations, blah blah blah. All I knew is that the pathology department lost an important part of me; his immensely insensitive office worker joked about it with the window open and everyone listening; and he was 45 minutes late. I was a veritable stew of frustrated aggression.

Eventually, I had it out with Mr. Doctor-man. It wasn't nice but, in terms of sticking up for myself and taking charge of my treatment, it really was one of my prouder moments. I called him up and informed him that he "worked for me, not the other way around." I told him his perpetual lateness was a sign of arrogance and disrespect and that his office staff were a bunch of insensitive clowns. Looking back on it now, I can hardly believe that this 150K+ a year doctor took all of this abuse from me. I'm glad he did because, frankly, I was right. But I'm still surprised.

Anyway, ever since then, I've been extremely sensitive about the slightest hint of disrespect from my doctors and especially their staff. The office workers are the gatekeepers, see. They're the ones with the specific mission of protecting the doctor, making sure his or her schedule stays reasonable, keeping out the uninsured riffraff, etc. Consequently, some chirpy little blond in brightly-colored scrubs with her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail can seem like Satan himself when she's insisting that the doctor simply can't see you for another two weeks.

The reason this is all on my mind is because I recently tried to get an appointment with our new family doctor. I've got a couple of prescriptions that are running out and I need them refilled. My cholesterol needs it and my peace of mind needs it. But little Miss Chirpy brushed that aside and said simply that there just weren't any openings for new patients for two weeks. If I were an "established" patient, she could fit me in but since new patients take more time, she just couldn't swing it any earlier. I was astounded. Her lack of creativity and utter unwillingness to help me in any way just about sent me over the edge. It's like doctors take the Hippocratic Oath, swearing to do no harm and help everyone they can, but their staff take the Paininthebuttock Oath, swearing to make it as hard as possible to get to the guy who took the good oath. Grrr.

So I just called a different doctor, got an appointment for two days later, and had a "new patient" exam that took ten minutes. I've got my scrips and all is well with the world. But an angry, bitter part of me wants to call the other doctor and say, "Not that it matters to you but you just lost out on my insurance dollars thanks to your obnoxious, little worker out front. Maybe you oughta have a talk with her before she drives more potential patients across the river to someone who isn't SO busy."

Of course, the doctor would then light a cigar with a hundred dollar bill and say, "What, like I want more patients? Don't you realize golf season is coming up?"

Oh well.

Medical office staff. Beware.