Okay, maybe that's a little harsh, but I'm just so fed up with the way these operations function. They've got me held hostage -- they know I need to get my kids in there -- they know I want the first available appointment -- they know I'll pretty much take anything they've got, and they know I'll wait as long as I need to not to have to reschedule and do it all over again in a few months.
The last time, we waited in the lobby for 45 minutes before they even called us back to the office. Forty-five minutes with a sick child!!! Then once we actually got into the office, we waited another 45 minutes for the doctor to even show!! No, really, I'm dead serious. ANOTHER freaking 45 minutes -- with Chago sitting there with his pants off. And when she finally showed up after I'd gone back up to reception twice to find out what was going on, she hardly even acknowledged the delay -- let alone the unbelievable inconvenience to both of us for having to take off literally half a day for what should have been a 15-minute appointment -- and nevermind the fact that my son was...hello...naked!!!
And then today, we go in for our 3-year well visit. Show up on time (a miracle in itself), bring all our goodies to keep them occupied while we wait (fully anticipating another 45-minute episode), almost finished filling out all the Q&As in duplicate in between fielding questions about is that boy sick and why is that baby crying and where is that little girl's mommy? when they suddenly call me up to the counter to tell me...brace for it...that we cannot be seen today because our 3-year visit was supposed to have been scheduled a full year from the date of our 2-year visit, which, evidently wasn't until mid April. And, no, no one bothered to tell me this in advance!!!
That's right, let me make this perfectly clear -- no one thought this was important enough information to share with me when I first scheduled this appointment 2 months ago, or when I rescheduled it 4 weeks ago, or when someone called to confirm today's appointment YESTERDAY, for crissakes!!!???!!!
I pulled the kids out of school in the middle of the day, took time away from work, drove half an hour to get to the damn place, spent the last 15 minutes corraling my children away from the infectious screaming hordes and another 10 figuring out how much milk (in ounces, mind you) the kids drink per day and how often they have successful bowel movements, and now you're telling me we can't even get in to see the doctor today -- for a WELL visit -- a 15-minute they-weigh-this-much-and-are-this-tall visit!?!?
Do you have toddlers, lady? Do you have any freaking idea the amount of work and preparation that goes into a doctor's visit? Days and days of groundwork laid so that they aren't afraid, aren't crying, aren't traumatized by the change in routine, the strangers, the nurses, the doctors, the scary offices. Hours and hours of And where are we going on Friday? And who are we going to see? And who's going to be a big girl and a big boy? I even made them wait a whole week before they could open their new bday doctor's kit from their Mema so that they would have something new to occupy them at the doctor's office, and for what!?!?!?
"Oh, ma'm, could you just finish filling out those forms while we reschedule you for April?"
Screw you, honey! Haven't you wasted enough of my time today!? By the time you actually fit me into the schedule again, the kids'll be in kindergarten!
Now they think that Dr. Johnston doesn't want to see them. They think she's upset with them and want to know why they can't see her today. So, I'm trying to explain that she just has too many children to see today and that we'll get to see her in a couple of weeks while trying not to cuss out the 12-year old behind the reception desk in front of 12 other children and their zoned out parents.
We stomped out of there, grabbed a bite to eat, and made our way back across the bridge just in time for them to catch dessert before nap. (At least there was that.)
But we'll just have to go through this crap all over again in a couple of weeks. And little miss can't-manage-to-find-my-way-out-of-a-paper-bag might just be S.O.L. then if I happen to be PMSing that week!
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