(or on doctors and DBs – part 1)
No. Chew chew chew. You chew definitely don’t chew chew have an appointment. Chew chew chew chew chew.
We stared at the chewing-gum-man in disbelief. Turning slightly, we looked at each other, looked back at the man and shrugged before making our way to the car and driving home.
That was the first (and, I hope, only) time I’ve ever been stood up by a doctor.
Officially I’d made the appointment for my boyfriend, but really it was for my own benefit.
He began coughing at the end of May. Almost a month later, I’d decided he shouldn’t still be ill. He insisted he was fine, but since men are renowned for flaunting man-flu and dismissing anything serious, I wasn’t buying it. He finally promised to go to a doctor if he wasn’t better by Monday.
On Monday he still sounded awful,
Neither of us have an assigned doctor, so I looked up the list in the phone book, calling alphabetically until I found one willing to let us have an emergency appointment.
The news that I’d been successful didn’t get the ecstatic response I thought I was due, but did at least result in him accepting his fate and getting in the car.
It took us a while to find the practice, hidden away down an alley in a housing estate. A man wielding a tatty broom and chewing violently on what must have been at least two pieces of chewing gum stood in the garden. We ignored him and walked up to the front door. The man followed us, chewing loudly.
DB reached for the doorbell. The man announced that we had to phone up first, and pointed at the sign with the phone number on. Having both, foolishly, left our phones in the car, we rang the bell anyway.
Nothing happened.
After the man had assured us that we couldn’t possibly have an appointment, he disappeared into the house, returning a few seconds later to inform us, “the doctor is busy with a patient so I can’t ask her, but you most definitely don’t have an appointment today. You’ll have to phone up and arrange one”.
Discussion wasn’t an option.
Laughter in the car afterwards wasn’t either – it was compulsory.
If laughter really is the best medicine, maybe the chewing-gum-man is on to something…..
What a story! There must not be any urgent care clinics around your area (specializing in treating minor ailments when the person doesn’t have a PCP). Are you going to be able to convince him again to get in the car and go somewhere? Good luck with all that! And the chewing gum guy…only stories like that REALLY happen. 😀
🙂 I wouldn’t’ve believed it if I hadn’t been there….
There’s a part 2 but I still need to write it…
There are hospitals and emergency clinics, but they’re more for people who have just broken their leg or cut themselves badly or can’t breathe. I feel guilty taking up their time when it’s not nearly as urgent. I didn’t think DB was going to keel over if he wasn’t seen to immediately, I just wanted to know he was going to be okay soon.