TheBanyanTree: Same Day Service

[Monique Colver]

I have a great medical plan through my husband's employer. They've taken out
body parts for $100, which is definitely worth the price of admission. It
could be that they then took these same body parts and sold them on the
black market, but I'm not sure how much they'd get for one worn out ovary,
so perhaps they're not making a profit on me.



This medical group, like all medical groups worth their stethoscope,
advertises, and one day while cruising the 405 (not an activity we do for
fun) we found ourselves next to a bus with a big sign on the side that said,
very clearly, "Same Day Appointments!" I turned away, and then looked back,
unsure of what I'd seen. Sure enough, it was for (insert name of my medical
provider). I turned to my husband and said, "Hey, look! There's another
(insert name of my medical provider), and this one has same day
appointments!"



"It's our (insert name of medical provider)," he said, always eager to
shatter my dreams.



"But I can never get a same day appointment," I pointed out.



"I think it's marketing," he replied, ever the logical one.



"Oh."



Normally I manage to plan my doctor visits well in advance this isn't an
issue. Besides, the closest (insert name of my medical provider) facility is
now two hours away, one way, so running to the doctor isn't something I do
unless I'm really desperate, or I've managed to chop off a finger, which I
almost did the other day, but since the thumb was still intact I let it heal
on its own. So now I have this situation (not the barely hanging thumb)
which required a call for an appointment today. It's not an emergency, and
it's doubtful it's life threatening (though I like to imagine it is, since I
can play off the drama more that way), but it is painful. And scary looking.
Let that be enough. Let's just say I'm rather anxious to be rid of the
problem, since I don't do pain well.



I called the appointment line and stated my issue. "Oh," the nice
appointment lady said, "You'll probably want an appointment today then."



I was dumbfounded. Of course I would, but I wasn't expecting it. "That would
be great," I replied, "the sooner the better." As long as they give me 2
hours to drive there, I can do it, happily.



She put me on hold and then came back two or three or five minutes later.
"The first opening is December 15th."



I don't like to sound like an idiot, but it's the 8th today. "The 15th? Next
Monday? Is there anyone I can see sooner?"



She went away again and then came back eventually, after I'd drifted off
into a nice nap. "If you don't mind a PA, there's an opening on Thursday."



Thursday. Okay. That's only three days away. I can live with this thing
growing exponentially until then. I can always resort to massive doses of
alcohol if the pain gets to be too much, I suppose.



Of course, there's always the ER, but I don't do that unless it's, like, an
emergency. And how does one define an emergency? July 3rd my blood pressure
shot up and my nose exploded in an impressive display of blood letting that
could be stopped only by seeking the services of our local ER – I wasn't in
any mood, at the time, to make the 2 hour drive when we have perfectly good
medical facilities ten minutes away. Of course, I'm still paying off that
little adventure, and that was, at least as far as I was concerned, an
emergency. But this? It's annoying and painful and just a tad scary, but not
an emergency.



Same day appointments. Maybe that's a special plan. It certainly isn't mine.





-- 
Monique Colver