I waited at the doctor’s for an hour the other day.
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And that’s “not bad” for my clinic.
Sometimes the doctors say “sorry to keep you waiting” but mostly not. I don’t think they are taught that at doctor school.
When I sit waiting, after I have thumbed through years old editions of either New Idea – for the ladies, or The Bulletin – for the blokes, I start getting annoyed. I think that might be why I am now on blood pressure medication.
What other profession keeps you waiting an hour for a scheduled appointment. Working in newspapers I have lined up hundreds of interviews and never ran that late. And if I did go a little overtime, I called and said sorry, and would another time suit.
I know they are dealing with health issues which can mean life and death, but surely they could make the appointments a bit of a closer fit with the reality.
My hubby and I turned up early to his appointment once – by about 40 minutes. We were hoping we could get in early but we were told there were two before him, another two who hadn’t arrived yet and one with the doctor. That’s five in under 40 minutes. That’s not a bad turnover. People and money wise. We only waited an extra 30 minutes that day.
And it can get worse. Once my husband waited an hour, finally got in with the doctor, only to watch him answer the phone and turn and say “I have to go to the hospital”, and rush out.
My husband wandered, dazed, back to the desk and joked “I wouldn’t have to pay for that, would I?. The receptionist looked up and said “I’ll just check”. Seriously. And no, there was no other doctor available that day.
I think the long wait may also be contributing to the overuse of antibiotics. I mean, who wants to wait all that time and then walk away empty-handed. If you can’t dream up a script that you need, then a generic packet of antibiotics is almost mandatory.
And I know you’re not meant to but I always ask for them, even for a cold or a flu “that just needs fluid and rest”. Being an asthmatic I know that any cold or flu will turn into bronchitis or pneumonia. It just does. And the few times I have failed in my antibiotic mission, I have been back in days, with a doctor stating the bleeding obvious “it’s gone onto your chest”.
In the old days at least children used to get lollipops or leftover needles – without the sharp bits. Now the sugar police have stopped that, and I guess you shouldn’t be encouraging children to inject themselves.
Although I did score once, while living in the Pilbara. I had what I thought was an infected nail. So they gave me some nail clippers to cut a tiny piece off – obviously they didn’t want to go near it - and I got to keep them. The nail clippers not the specimen. And they were really good heavy duty ones. I still have them.
Mind you, it’s not a profession I would wish on anyone. Sitting in an office all day with sick people parading in and out. Listening to their stories about green phlegm and loose bowel motions. Cutting off skin lesions, poking in needles, asking people to “just pop up here” and checking prostates.
There’s also the risk of physical injury. I had a mole cut off my leg in my late teens. It was on the back of my calf and I had to lie on my stomach on the bed. Sadly the doctor started cutting before the anaesthetic had kicked in, so I kicked him, in the face. Whoops. At least he was in the right place for medical treatment.
So I guess they do earn their money. I just wish they could do it in a timely manner.