Today I have had the worst check-up experience of my life.
I’ve been going to the same doctor for the last ten years, but now that I’m eighteen, I’m smart enough to know when I deserve better. Much better.
Now that I’ll be off to Bryn Mawr College in Pennsylvania this coming August, I needed to get a check-up at the doctor’s, and get all my shots and whatnot. The service at this office sucks. They truly do not know how to connect with their patients. Because this is a long story, I’ll attempt to shorten it with a list of what went wrong for me during this experience.
- Scary butch nurse, who does not communicate well.
- Scary butch nurse walks in and out of room asking if I possess a “blue book” listing all of my past immunizations, or if I’ve ever gotten a skin test- both of which I knew nothing about, and both of which they should have had in their records. That’s your job, Doc, not mine. (This is when I started to get nervous. You expect me to let you inject stuff into me, when you don’t even know what the fuck you have or have not given me before? What?)
- Doctor comes in and lists all of the things that need to be done to me. Holy shit.
- Doctor tells me that I’ll need to come back on Monday and take the urine test then, because I’m currently menstruating. Doctor walks out. Scary butch nurse walks in and orders me to pee in cup.
- I sign papers without being explained what exactly is going on. I get four shots, a TB skin test, and my blood drawn. Nurse tells me my arms will be sore this weekend. Thanks.
- I am told to make an appointment for Monday. Reception ladies are not at reception desk, and when I find them, they tell me just to call anytime, though they’ll be closed on Saturday and Sunday.
- Cherry to top it off: I find out, after leaving the building, that the Doctor did not mention that the Gardasil shot I consented to take costs a whopping fucking $500+ (and I don’t know if my insurance covers it) and that it’s a 3-shot process that occurs over several months (hello, I will be in Pennsylvania.)
Lesson: Get a doctor with nurses that you can trust, because who knows how they may be fucking around with you and your body.
However, it was quite amusing when, after talking to me on the phone and hearing how upset I was about my experience at the doctor (without hearing all the details) my boyfriend ran from his house to mine, still in his PJs, worried that something catastrophic had occurred.
