I had to go to an urgent care type of Dr’s office on Saturday because I realized that I probably had pink eye. I realize that most Dr’s need a social life as well as anyone else, but it really bugs me when a private practice doesn’t offer extended office hours atleast one night a week or Saturdays. So not wanting to go to the ER and revisit “The Are You Kidding Me Diaper Rash of ‘07” fiasco by going in for pink eye while others are bleeding or releasing other bodily fluids next to me, I settled for a place I wasn’t familiar with and surely a longer wait with my drippy eyes trying to fill out forms.
Now, the fact that the Nurse who brought me back didn’t actually weigh or measure me but instead asked my “best guess at how tall and my weigh” didn’t really bother me as much as made me wonder where the hell I was. I did get a bit agitated when she told me to try to read the eye chart as my eyeballs were nearly floating around under my visibly swollen lids (and it was a miracle that I drove there in the first place but the 45 minute wait in the waiting room of only 5 people, myself included, just made them progressively worse) only for her to tell me after I knowingly mistook a P for an F and a Z for an F and a N for an M that I had 20/20 vision. (In the words of my equally optometric ally challenged sister, “If you have 20/20 vision then I have x-ray vision!”) But what really got my goat were Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb sitting beside me in the waiting room as I sat there waiting for them to process my insurance and give me a sample of eye drops.
In the entire room with a seating capacity of around 40 and only myself, a lady who couldn’t stop having a personal phone call the whole time I was there (and obviously hadn’t just answered it as I walked into the place or even as I parked my car prior to), and a guy waiting for his buddy who had an unfortunate leg incident and I would later learn was contemplating how he would get said buddy and said leg into the vehicle to go back to whatever keggar they had been starting before noon that morn and had ultimately led to aforementioned leg meeting an accidentally unfortunate wounding, these two had to hoist their tube tops and flip their hair about ten times as they sat down directly elbow to elbow with me. Now I’m not claustrophobic, or obsessive compulsive or even have an imaginary friend who needs to sit beside me, as to where a person either wouldn’t want to sit beside me or would have a heck of a story to tell after I left. But why, especially when my eyes look like I’ve went a few rounds with a prize fighter, do you feel the need to rub elbows with me when you could sit privately anywhere else in the whole room? I know I’m not that good looking, and my body spray isn’t anything you couldn’t pick up at a daycare or Bath and Body Works.
Well “Izzy and Skizzy” sit down and the blonder of the two (but less bronze fake baked) starts to fill out the forms that they give all new patients and I had just completed. The following account is actual, not word for work but paraphrased, but makes me very afraid for our future.
Izzy looks to Skizzy and says, “Pssst.. What does this mean?” only to have Skizzy say, “I dunno. Go ask the receptionist.”
Receptionist looks at girl who is pointing and asking and says, “It means your period.”
Now having filled out the forms I knew the question said, “When was your last Menses” and even if you’re not quite sure, you can take a ballpark guess that it’s probably meaning something to do with menstration which is your period and if you’re that unsure the fact that it says “WOMEN ONLY” in bold print.
Upon coming back to Skizzy she says, “Well, I dunno when it was?” I think, “Hmm… maybe that’s your problem!”
Izzy again looks at Skizzy and says, “Are you allergic to any drugs. What do they mean?” Skizzy says, “Like if you’re allergic to anything.” Izzy says, “I’m allergic to bees, does that count?” Skizzy says, “Yeah. I’d put it down.”
Izzy, stumped, asks Skizzy, “It says, are you taking any drugs. What’s that mean?” Skizzy says, “I guess like cold pills and stuff.” Izzy says, “Oh, well what about my pill?” Skizzy, confused says, “What pill?” Izzy, frustrated says, “You know. My birth control pills!” Skizzy says, “Probably not, leave it blank.”
After then filling out all forms and turning them in the receptionist calls Izzy back up and tells her that she has to sign where it’s highlighted and says signature. Izzy says, “Oh. I didn’t know why it was highlighted.” Then the receptionist says, “On all highlights.” I wanted to smack my forehead for her. Receptionist then says “and date it where it says date..” and I think she might smack her own forehead. Izzy says, “I don’t know it.” Receptionist tells her the date and Izzy says… wait for it!!!….. “..um, July, right?” in total seriousness. I thought receptionist was going to smack her.
So why is it that this girl seemed so, well, dumb? Are we not educating our children well enough that they can’t fill out simple forms by themselves? Are girls in general that uneducated about their bodies that they don’t know what it is unless you use a slang or non medical term? Do we do everything for our kids and they are totally not self-sufficient? Do we make ignorance look like a great way to get attention and have a few laughs that now our youth use it like someone would use a knock-knock joke in general conversation? And why is it that these are the people who are out there on birth control and having sex when obviously they don’t seem to be able to make serious choices for themselves or act without coaching? What is wrong with people anymore?!