Doctor Deal Breakers

Maybe I’m finicky but I expect a lot out of my doctors—right down to their waiting rooms. I mean, if they don’t bother to change out their reading material and I’m stuck with Good Housekeeping from April 2001, I gotta wonder if they bother to change out the examining table paper.

In college we had to go to the UT health center and inevitably, no matter what was wrong with you, you’d leave with a sling. Once I had a stomach ache and the doctor actually got out a book and started looking up my condition. Either I was a medical marvel or she got her degree from Medical Community College. Her diagnosis? Tummy ache. Remedy? Sling.

So the next time I got sick in college I went to a real doctor. Or as real as my health insurance would allow. I went through the whole appointment and when I was at the counter, waiting to check out, I noticed that their giant wall calendar said “AUGUST.” That would be great except it was NOVEMBER. What kind of people fail to flip their calendar THREE times? The kind of people who fail to sterilize needles? The kind of people who fail to throw the biohazard materials in the correct bin? The kind of people who actually mistake a urine sample for lemonade? I never returned.

Yesterday I went to a dentist to get a crown. (No, not the kind of crown I really want.) I had just been once before and I was already uneasy because he’s in a shopping center and there’s a sign over his office that says “DENTIST.” In fact whenever his hygienist/assistant/receptionist calls to remind me of an appointment she says, “This is Rebecca from the dentist’s office…” What? Like he’s the only dentist in Dallas? Don’t they usually say “…from Dr. Ramos’ office?”

Anyway I had let all that slide because they had very current and interesting magazines.
So I’m sitting in the waiting room yesterday and I notice this fake plant. That’s cool but what’s hanging from the plant? Are those CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS?! I start to get up to run out of the office (which again, is really a shopping center) but then I calm myself by rationalizing that they’re probably just Chinese symbols or something. Just as I was realizing that Dr. Ramos is actually Hispanic, Rebecca (the hygienist/assistant/receptionist) calls me back.

I explain to her that I had brought my iPod because my friend told me it’s very soothing to listen to during a procedure. She gives me a puzzled look and asks, “What’s an iPod?”

What?! I mean, Grandma Valerie probably knows what an iPod is! Rebecca’s like 25! She asks, “Is it like a walkman?” I was shaking with fear. What kind of cave men was I dealing with? Were they gonna use rocks and two sticks to give me my crown?

The not-Chinese dentist came in and I thought I’d test him before I ran out screaming. “I’m going to listen to my iPod if that’s okay with you,” I said slowly, watching his reaction. “Sure, no problem,” he answered. Shwoo…what a relief.

As I sat in the chair I kept saying to myself, “It’s okay…He’s got current magazines, he knows what an iPod is…No! Don’t think about the Christmas decorations. That’s probably all Rebecca. She still thinks it's Christmas 2001 before iPods were invented…But what about the shopping center? No! Stop it! It’s a very nice shopping center. Very close to my house…within running distance…”

The whole crown procedure went fine. I packed up my hip new walkman gadget, paid my bill and sprinted out the door…just in case they were gonna try and fit me for a sling.