I had another blog written for today about romance as literary fiction. But it'll have to wait til another day.
I'm having foot problems. Again. I apparently have Morton's neuromas in both feet. It only bothers me sometimes -- like when I wear shoes and walk. Warm weather has made things a little better for me because I can wear loose sandals and keep the pressure off those nerves, which keeps my third and fourth toes from feeling like someone set fire to them. Friday I see my orthopedic surgeon to go over my treatment options.
How did this happen? It can be caused by wearing pointy-toed stilettos. Have y'all ever seen me in those? Uh, no. Ask the Playfriends. I'm the queen of sensible shoes. It can also be caused by high impact athletic activities like jogging. Again, no.
This "just happened." Just happened like my medial epicondylitis (AKA tennis elbow), my lactose intolerance, the bone spur in my shoulder, my fibromyalgia and my restless leg syndrome.
Quite frankly, I'm tired of s%#t "just happening." I want to at least have had FUN before the pain and aggravation starts.
But what's really got my feathers ruffled is the all too cavalier attitude of some medical office personnel toward time. MY time. There seems to be an M. Deity attitude amongst some, and my orthopedic clinic displayed that attitude yesterday morning. I won't name names, but their shiny, new building sits like a domed cathedral on a hill.
I had an appointment for nerve testing on April 12, but it was cancelled at the last minute because the machine broke. At least they caught me before I'd left home. The test was rescheduled for yesterday at 9:00 AM. It takes 30 minutes for me to get from my apartment to this office and I allowed extra time for traffic. I signed in and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
At 9:30 I inquired at the desk only to be told the tech hadn't been told I was there, had begun another procedure and didn't have time to do mine.
"Can you come back at noon?"
If looks could kill, several of their staff members would be six feet under. Yes, I could come back at noon, but what about my time? What was I supposed to do until then? I didn't want to drive 30 minutes home and then 30 minutes back.
So I went to a shoe store and looked at even wider and uglier shoes than I already wear (why are wide, ugly, good-for-your-feet shoes so expensive?), used a birthday certificate to get a free grande latte at Starbucks, read the newspaper and then scribbled the bare bones of this blog in a little notebook I carry around for those times when inspiration (or wrath) strikes.
And. I. Fumed.
If I didn't show up for my appointment, they'd charge me for it.
If THEY don't show up, they offer lame apologies and reschedule. Why can't I charge them?
When I returned at noon, I signed in again and said quite loudly, "Would you please make sure the technician knows I'm here for the second time today?"
Within seconds I was greeted by the tech who apologized profusely. Apparently the office staff had screwed up her day too.
I'd consider going to another clinic, but that really isn't an option because this foot specialist is the best. Period.
So I'll continue going there, but maybe now they'll know not to piss off the bilateral Morton's neuroma lady because when they do, I speak loudly in the waiting room and write blogs about you.
So... what's ruffled YOUR feathers lately?
P.S. To answer my own question, $$$$ spells time.
12 comments:
S%#T HAPPENS!
And apparently I am a s%#t magnet! Is there some way of degaussing that?
Don't get me started! Took my son to the eye clinic yesterday, he was checked by the orthopist and then we waited to see the consultant surgeon......and we waited......and we waited. Two hours. Then we got in. Our consultant is currently on maternity leave but my son needs surgery now. The consultant's words as we entered the room - "I don't do Paeds - I'll need to refer you to someone else."
The "someone else" was sitting in the consulting room next door and, no, he wouldn't see my son without a referral letter.
NHS, Scotland. Usually I'm its biggest defender (I work for it!) but not today!
Why don't you contact the office manager...they have to get the system to work better. That is unacceptable...esp. since it wasn't an emergency that caused it.
I worked in clinic and if we got a patient that had problems it pushed everyone behind. It could not be helped. Its a damned if you do, damned if you don't. But I'd explain to the patients what was going on. Communication is the key.
Btw, last week we sat in an exam room from 10:30-13:00 to see the Rheumatologist. It's frustrating...but when there is only one guy who is the best specialist--he gets it all.
Don't know what to say, but just contact that office manager.
Hang in there and hope your foot gets better
To further illustrate my crap magnet status, my car windshield has a huge crack in it, presumably from a rock. But my insurance company is arranging for one of those companies that bring a mobile van to you for the repair. I can wave good-bye to some more money.
Dear PM,
If I am not mistaken, glass has 100% coverage with you insurance. Check it out.
Your Mother
PS: Word verification -inesca - as in you cannot escape S%#T
Your not alone I have feet problems myself, hammer toes and all. It sucks and s%#t happens to me too!
I have to confess. I only have one 'X' chromosome. So it should come as no surprise that the romance genre occupies a fraction of 1% of my library. Even that portion is shelved with the other Anne Rice books and belongs to the fantasy/erotica ilk.
I'm a storyteller, humorist, and occasional political blogger (I use an alias), who has had fun on The Playground. When I saw the word romance and foot within inches of each other, my 'Y' chromosome kicked in, saying, "It's only kinky the first time." If PM can't laugh with me, she can at least laugh at me for being a guy. It is good medicine.
I would like to opine that men don't get their feathers ruffled, because men don't have feathers. We're furry, and get stroked the wrong way. My fur is coarse and stiff and rarely out of place. The only things that rile me are ignorance and dishonesty. I can forgive ignorance, some people come by it honestly.
I hope there is some relief from the feces that occours.
PS Did you notice the way I worked the words stiff and stroked into the same paragraph?
Funny, Joseph! I have to admit I've noticed that the male of the species doesn't seem to get their feathers... oops, fur stroked in an irritating way nearly as often as females do. Maybe they are just better at ignoring the small stuff... or in the case of the men in MY life, they leave ME to handle the small stuff while they get the easy parts to handle. And I get my feathers ruffled very easily.
But I'm an emotional person, what can I say? So I think an occassional Whine About It Wednesday is great stress relief.
I went to the doctor yesterday (but didn't have to wait nearly as long as y'all did) and was told my blood pressure was through the roof. They've put me on medication immediately and I was urged to start yoga and avoid stress (I have a condition that raises cortisol levels in the brain--stress hormones). Yep, I'll get right on that, as soon as I figure out how to do that in real life. Yep. Sure will.
On the other hand, work has been slower this week, which isn't a good thing money-wise, but I've actually had a few days to breath, which is welcome every so often, you know? My hubby came home today and found me watching television. "Don't you have work to do?" he asked (not being ugly, he is just used to hearing me constantly say that I have work to do). "Nope," I said. "I'm playing hooky." :)
Angel
This is so typical of health care professionals! I am ready to join the bandwagon - let's start charging the doctors of OUR time! I just had an appointment with my primary care physician. The appointment was for 8:15 AM which made me the SECOND appointment of the day. "How long can I have to wait," I thought. Not more than 10 - 15 minutes, right? WRONG!! 45 minutes later, the doctor came into the exam room, without ONE WORD of apology about being so late!! That's three quarters of an hour that I wasted. Now, the office charges $98 per appointment. By my reckoning, that's $73.50 the office owes me for waiting! Of course, I won't see a penny of that. And my doctor has the nerve to complain that she can't charge enough for her time!! Ah well, at least there's a Starbuck's on the way home...so I arrive home in a much better mood.
I sent the local hospital a bill (and sent it to the hospital administrator) for screwing up my paperwork, requiring ME to straighten it out when it wasn't my mistake, and costing me time and Xeroxing costs, plus stamp, envelope, etc.
No, they didn't pay it -- but I still have the bill, the letter, they fixed the problem so it didn't happen again, and if they pull that crap again I'm going to really hit them with a bill because I gave them a break on the first one. And I'll pursue it. Hell hath no fury like a writer who can put one heck of a letter in a newspaper's editorial column.
But you might have tried asking for a discount on the office visit cost. All they could say was no. Then point to the sign where they require payment if YOU cancel . . . ah well, it's too late now, and I'm in a take-no-prisoners mood, so maybe you should ignore me :-).
I'm sorry your feet are hurting, PM. Wishing you well and soon! As for the rest, try to focus on your glass being half full. See everything that is going right and try not to dwell on the wrong. It will be hard, I know. But we can only control ourselves. Live happy, my friend.
What's getting me? These headaches.... Arrrrr!
Post a Comment