Dear Local Medical Clinic,
After spending a total of four hours this morning at your ill-designed facility, I just want to thank you. Thank you so much for taking $85 of my uninsured money – before I actually saw the doctor so that I wouldn’t leave before my two and a half hours of waiting time was up. Thanks for letting me have a strep test and a flu swab by the male version of Nurse Ratched.
Thank you for declaring that I have the flu. I’ve never been diagnosed with the flu before, and I had been under the impression that it was really terrible, as in the sick person can’t even lift their head from their pillow. Thank you for clearing up the fact that the body aches, mild fever and wicked chills I’ve had for the last three days can also be the flu. This also explains why everybody and her brother has “got the flu.”
Thank you for telling me that all that can be done is for me to treat the symptoms. This does bring me to a question: why did you feel compelled to give me a prescription for cough syrup? I’m really not coughing here, not that the doctor would’ve realized that in the eight or so minutes he actually spent with me. Please don’t be offended that I plan to tear up that worthless prescription and throw it away. As mentioned above, I’m uninsured, and being unemployed, I’d already wasted $85, so spending even more money on stuff that won’t help just didn’t seem like the thing to do.
Also, please thank the doctor for not even looking at my sore throat, or at my ears which I’d mentioned felt sensitive. Kudos to you, doc, for sticking to a strict Hands-Off-The-Patient policy. This really contributed to the warm, fuzzy feeling that I was getting the bum’s rush.
Most of all, thank you for reminding me why I don’t go to the doctor. Clearly, I’d lost my head this morning (must’ve been the fever) thinking I could find some relief from feeling bad. I apologize for breaking down into tears from frustration at the thought of an unknown number of days in which I can continue to feel miserable. Next time, you can bet I’ll be at death’s door before I visit you again.
Thank you, quite literally, for nothing.