The Devil Wears Ill-Fitting Scrubs
I caught a long, painful glimpse of Hell last night. We’ve all heard complaints about doctors offices, the wham-bam-thank-you-m’am treatment of patients, long waits on the paper covered examining tables…but until last night I had never truly experienced it for myself. Sure, I’ve waited my share of countless minutes in the lobby listening to my fellow patients sniffling and sighing and coughing. But never have I waited three hours in such a miserable environment as I did last night at the UMC Quickcare conveniently located minutes away from my home.
It seemed like a good idea at the time. My cough was getting more painful, my throat aching to the point of making speech difficult. With three sweet baby triplets at home, I decided not to just “ride it out,” like I usually do. My usual treatment of this ailment I get so often involves lots of Thom Yum soup, Nyquil, Ludens throat drops, and 7UP Plus. It works though it usually takes 2-3 weeks. I just didn’t have the luxury of that kind of time! So I decided to stop at the UMC Quickcare facility on the way home from work and get some meds prescribed so I could nip this thing in the bud.
5:30ish: I arrive at UMC, sign in an settle down in a cold, wobbly chair. I look around. Lots of sick, dirty people surround me. I am struck by the feeling that I don’t belong here…
5:50ish: I decide that I will leave if my name isn’t called by 6:15, though I am desperate for “healing waters.” A few chairs down from me, a baby cries.
6:12: My name is called. I guess 45 minutes is not such a bad wait. I’ll be on my home soon! Nurse has an attitude. She takes my vitals sighing the whole time with a bitter look on her face. We have the following conversation: She “So why are you here?”
Me: “Well, I have a history of chronic bronchitis and I’m experiencing a flare up.”
She: Sighing angrily “That’s what EVERYBODY says. I asked you why you’re here, tell me your SYMPTOMS.”
Me: “Oh um, very painful cough in lungs-“
She interrupts: “YES I KNOW, but are you coughing anything up?”
Me: “Yes, some yellow ph-“
She interrupts: “I KNOW but is it yellow, is it green?”
Me: Talking as fast as I can: “YellowandIalsohaveaverysorethroat,conjestioninmysinusesandfeelacheyallover.” Phew.
She: “Okay, go wait in the lobby again.”
This is how the UMC traps you. They take you back for 30 seconds with Nurse Ratchet, and then you are legally obligated to pay for treatment. You sign some papers and they tell you a doctor will be with you as soon as a room frees up.
Well, I was trapped and I’ve never been more miserable. Cold, sick, tired, and now thanks to the nurse from Hell I felt incompetent and my moral was low. I slumped down in my chair and tried to focus on the entertainment news on the fuzzy screened TV. This was when the “family” came in. A cute, earthy looking mother with a teenage son and a little hipster daughter maybe 12 or 13 years old. I smiled at them thinking what a cute family they were. They sat right next to me. Then the real nightmare began. The boy began to wrestle with his sister and they proceeded to shake the row of shabbily attached chairs. I was getting a little nauseated. The mom got up and went outside to smoke. When she came back, she reeked something awful. I tried to tune them out…tried not to focus on the fact that I had already wasted over an hour in that horrid place.
A man came in carrying a woman who had passed out. Set her in a chair. She slumped over and moaned. This woman should have been taken to a hospital. Suddenly all the doctors in the building are focusing on her. Sure I hoped she’d be okay, but I was more annoyed by the fact that she was now making the wait even longer for everyone. I am ashamed for thinking that. The woman is rolled away in a wheelchair and I never see her again.
Teenage boy blows his nose wet and hard. Starts shoving the tissue in his sister’s face telling her that’s what is for dinner. I cringe as the wet tissue is hurled across the room landing dangerously close to my feet. He begins to blow again. Not wanting to risk getting hit by another tissue-missile, I stand up and move away. There is nowhere else to sit where I can see the TV, so I choose to stand.
7:15pm: The wacky family gets called back. I reclaim my seat next to the TV. My victory is little comfort as I’m exhausted but can’t leave because I have already agreed to pay for treatment. Cold, hungry and thirsty, I watch as people approach the door to UMC trying to get in but they can’t. The facility is now closed. The rest of us are locked in. Like sick pigs in a filthy pen.
7:30ish Wacky family comes back out. They sit directly across from me. Brother and sister begin to wrestle again. They are loud and disturbing. Suddenly, sister yelps! Brother has given her a bloody nose. Blood drips through her fingers. She begins to laugh hysterically through her bloody lips. This is now officially the worse night of my life. Well, maybe not the worse but its up there!
8:00pm Finally get called back to see the doctor. Wait another 10 minutes in the back. Doc comes in, spends 5 minutes with me, asks if I’m a smoker. They always ask me that. And the answer is always no. He leaves me for another ten minutes or so and a different nurse comes in hands me my prescription and shoos me out the door. My ordeal finally ends around 8:30 pm. Three of the longest hours of my life.
Well, I went to Walgreens to get my prescription filled and this whole episode has made me so depressed I buy 20 dollars worth of snacks. Fortunately, the pharmacists at Walgreens are wonderful and take the time to answer any questions I may have, except for the one I’m too embarrassed to ask. I’m prescribed two different antibiotics. One is covered by my insurance and costs me a mere 4 dollars. The other is not covered and costs me 50. Why? Why? Why?
All I can say is anyone who thinks it is inconvenient taking an hour or two off of work to go see a REAL doctor at a REAL doctor’s office, be assured that this is nothing compared to the inconvenience of UMC Quickcare. This place is neither QUICK nor do they CARE.
The end.
It seemed like a good idea at the time. My cough was getting more painful, my throat aching to the point of making speech difficult. With three sweet baby triplets at home, I decided not to just “ride it out,” like I usually do. My usual treatment of this ailment I get so often involves lots of Thom Yum soup, Nyquil, Ludens throat drops, and 7UP Plus. It works though it usually takes 2-3 weeks. I just didn’t have the luxury of that kind of time! So I decided to stop at the UMC Quickcare facility on the way home from work and get some meds prescribed so I could nip this thing in the bud.
5:30ish: I arrive at UMC, sign in an settle down in a cold, wobbly chair. I look around. Lots of sick, dirty people surround me. I am struck by the feeling that I don’t belong here…
5:50ish: I decide that I will leave if my name isn’t called by 6:15, though I am desperate for “healing waters.” A few chairs down from me, a baby cries.
6:12: My name is called. I guess 45 minutes is not such a bad wait. I’ll be on my home soon! Nurse has an attitude. She takes my vitals sighing the whole time with a bitter look on her face. We have the following conversation: She “So why are you here?”
Me: “Well, I have a history of chronic bronchitis and I’m experiencing a flare up.”
She: Sighing angrily “That’s what EVERYBODY says. I asked you why you’re here, tell me your SYMPTOMS.”
Me: “Oh um, very painful cough in lungs-“
She interrupts: “YES I KNOW, but are you coughing anything up?”
Me: “Yes, some yellow ph-“
She interrupts: “I KNOW but is it yellow, is it green?”
Me: Talking as fast as I can: “YellowandIalsohaveaverysorethroat,conjestioninmysinusesandfeelacheyallover.” Phew.
She: “Okay, go wait in the lobby again.”
This is how the UMC traps you. They take you back for 30 seconds with Nurse Ratchet, and then you are legally obligated to pay for treatment. You sign some papers and they tell you a doctor will be with you as soon as a room frees up.
Well, I was trapped and I’ve never been more miserable. Cold, sick, tired, and now thanks to the nurse from Hell I felt incompetent and my moral was low. I slumped down in my chair and tried to focus on the entertainment news on the fuzzy screened TV. This was when the “family” came in. A cute, earthy looking mother with a teenage son and a little hipster daughter maybe 12 or 13 years old. I smiled at them thinking what a cute family they were. They sat right next to me. Then the real nightmare began. The boy began to wrestle with his sister and they proceeded to shake the row of shabbily attached chairs. I was getting a little nauseated. The mom got up and went outside to smoke. When she came back, she reeked something awful. I tried to tune them out…tried not to focus on the fact that I had already wasted over an hour in that horrid place.
A man came in carrying a woman who had passed out. Set her in a chair. She slumped over and moaned. This woman should have been taken to a hospital. Suddenly all the doctors in the building are focusing on her. Sure I hoped she’d be okay, but I was more annoyed by the fact that she was now making the wait even longer for everyone. I am ashamed for thinking that. The woman is rolled away in a wheelchair and I never see her again.
Teenage boy blows his nose wet and hard. Starts shoving the tissue in his sister’s face telling her that’s what is for dinner. I cringe as the wet tissue is hurled across the room landing dangerously close to my feet. He begins to blow again. Not wanting to risk getting hit by another tissue-missile, I stand up and move away. There is nowhere else to sit where I can see the TV, so I choose to stand.
7:15pm: The wacky family gets called back. I reclaim my seat next to the TV. My victory is little comfort as I’m exhausted but can’t leave because I have already agreed to pay for treatment. Cold, hungry and thirsty, I watch as people approach the door to UMC trying to get in but they can’t. The facility is now closed. The rest of us are locked in. Like sick pigs in a filthy pen.
7:30ish Wacky family comes back out. They sit directly across from me. Brother and sister begin to wrestle again. They are loud and disturbing. Suddenly, sister yelps! Brother has given her a bloody nose. Blood drips through her fingers. She begins to laugh hysterically through her bloody lips. This is now officially the worse night of my life. Well, maybe not the worse but its up there!
8:00pm Finally get called back to see the doctor. Wait another 10 minutes in the back. Doc comes in, spends 5 minutes with me, asks if I’m a smoker. They always ask me that. And the answer is always no. He leaves me for another ten minutes or so and a different nurse comes in hands me my prescription and shoos me out the door. My ordeal finally ends around 8:30 pm. Three of the longest hours of my life.
Well, I went to Walgreens to get my prescription filled and this whole episode has made me so depressed I buy 20 dollars worth of snacks. Fortunately, the pharmacists at Walgreens are wonderful and take the time to answer any questions I may have, except for the one I’m too embarrassed to ask. I’m prescribed two different antibiotics. One is covered by my insurance and costs me a mere 4 dollars. The other is not covered and costs me 50. Why? Why? Why?
All I can say is anyone who thinks it is inconvenient taking an hour or two off of work to go see a REAL doctor at a REAL doctor’s office, be assured that this is nothing compared to the inconvenience of UMC Quickcare. This place is neither QUICK nor do they CARE.
The end.
posted by Moonery at
11:13 AM
1 Comments:
Oh my goodness....that sounds about as bad as it gets, only positive is that you were not bleeding at the time. Ick. Ick. Ick.
By
jez, At
3:31 PM
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