I get really testy when my blood sugar gets low, and despite the fact that I've sipped 14 glasses of Kool-Aid through the day, I strongly suspect my blood sugar is in the negative right now, seeing as the last food I was able to hang onto long enough to metabolize was lunch on Sunday. So in addition to feeling lousy, I'm testy.
On Monday Victor called my doctor to see if I could take Benadryl (in addition to it being an antihistamine, it is an antiemetic.) They said no. They said to drink clear liquid and eat soft bland foods, and if I wasn't better in three days to call back.
So today I called back.
Oh, first I waited until the 90-minute lunch hour was over, then I called.
I got put on hold. I got disconnected.
I called back.
I got put on hold. I got transferred.
Somebody took a message and said that a nurse would call me back "in a little while."
Two hours later, I called back.
I got put on hold. I got transferred. I got put on hold. Then somebody came back and said "The nurse has your message from before and will be calling you back."
I said "Great. When?"
I could hear the annoyed sigh...imagine that puff of air emitted by a teenage girl as she rolls her eyes, just before she tells you that you are clearly the most ignorant moron on the planet...and she said "When they are finished seeing the patients." Duh.
This freaking practice employees seven doctors, three PAs, and I don't know how many nurses (a heckuva lot of women in scrub suits, from what I have seen). They have three exam rooms. Seems like they could have one medical professional available to take phone calls during the day, especially if they are going to recommend that one call them. Which is what they said Monday: call if you aren't better in three days. Not "Make an appointment," but "Call."
So I said "Listen, you snotty little bitch, I happen to be a patient too, I just happen to be a patient too sick to grace your waiting room. But if that's what it takes for me to get 60 seconds of medical advice, I will find a way to haul my diseased ass down there, and you will see that I am sick, and I hope you are the one who has to scrub the carpet."
Ok, maybe I didn't say that. But man, I wanted to.
Posted by Nic at March 17, 2005 05:14 PMugh...HUGE sympathy here. I had it last week. My dr. actually called in an Rx for compazine so I could stop puking...and I just got my appetite back after about a week.
Be GENTLE and take CARE of yourself!!
My wife works for an even bigger practice and they have the same problem. There's supposed to be an assigned "advice nurse" every day for phone consults, but they get so busy that even she gets pressed into regular service.
That's no excuse for the rudeness though. I'd have asked for her supervisor and raised hell. That's what the super is for, to take the abuse when peon-girl cops a 'tude.
Posted by: Ted at March 18, 2005 12:40 PMHope you are feeling better. And I wish you had let yourself go and said that, too.
Posted by: RP at March 24, 2005 05:06 PM