Is it sometimes worse to have a good doctor than to go to a medical appointment mill?
I did something very liberating last week; unfortunately, it was liberating with a dash of stupid. After waiting 75 minutes for my appointment to see the doctor, I got mad and walked out. Before I exited, I politely announced to the receptionist that my time was valuable and that I could not waste any more of it waiting for an appointment that was scheduled four weeks in advance. I asked for a form to transfer my medical records to another practice, and -- get this -- I insisted that the receptionist validate my parking. That alone elevated me to Norma Rae status in the packed waiting room.
Now I understand that medical emergencies arise and sometimes, especially during flu season, doctors' offices get backed up because they are trying to squeeze patients in. I actually would have been happy if the wheezing, sneezing, coughing germ-factory seated across from me had been brought into an exam room ahead of me. But that's not what happened here.
What happened here is that my doctor is a repeat-offender who is guilty of spending more time with each patient then the medical corporation she works for wants her to. She practices medicine like we are still living in 1950; she lingers with each patient long after she's done with her physical exam and I half expect to see her grab a little black bag and run out to make a house call if someone needs her to. (to continue reading)
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