once upon a waiting room
Today I called and got an appointment for our oldest daughter to visit the pediatrician. Her allergies are reeeeally bad and her Rx just wasn’t working for her, poor thing. The receptionist told me there was a 3:30 time slot available and although it meant taking her out of school early today, I decided to go for it.
I arrived at the school at 2:50.
I was on my way with child in tow at 3:05.
I arrived at the Doctors office at 3:20. (early … I was pleased with myself).
Avery asked me at 3:45 if we were next.
Taylor asked at 3:49 what was taking so long.
At 3:50 two families entered the office & registered. I was highly aware of them chatting it up with the front desk.
3:53. Avery asked me again when it would be our turn.
At 4:00 the chatty couples were taken back simultaneously.
Even my kids noticed that they came late, went quick. This is not rocket science and therefore the onslaught of “when” and “whats taking so long” questions ensued every other minute thereafter. My kids were so well behaved also. As I watched the clock, I debated telling them to behave the way they do in their playroom and use regular voices, and wondered if I did, would we have been taken back at 3:32 as assumed by me on the phone earlier this morning?
At 4:12 I had lost the amused portion of my patience and so, slowly and while doing deep breathing exercises I approached the counter. I have a low voice anyway, but when I’m completely ticked off and calm about it, its probably a little creepy. I raised my one eyebrow that requires botox to look awake and said with the utmost control, “I realize this is a busy time of the afternoon in your office” at which point the receptionist completely stared at her keyboard and folded her hands while nodding her head up & down and completely avoided making eye contact with me as I continued, “however I have been sitting here for over 40 minutes waiting to be called. I will wait 5 more minutes and if I haven’t been called back yet after that I will just request that my childs records be transferred to a new doctor.”
It was far from being a mere suggestion. I walked away.
Three minutes later, we were being walked back through the doors, escorted into the room and the nurse was getting Taylor situated. Within two minutes the doctor was in and the nurse scooted out.
If you know me personally, hopefully you’d agree that I am not the type to be bitchy toward someone. I don’t find pleasure in having gotten my way (although Brian did and he gave me a high five when I relayed this to him). I realize things happen … kids are sick back there, parents have questions to ask and doctors have them to answer. It takes time. I get that. It’s not all about me. or my kids. I get that too. Obviously … because nearly everyone else in the waiting room took my turn today.
And so, usually being a real southern sweetie I would just feel guilty tonight that I even said anything at all.
But I don’t.
My time is valuable to me and my kids. Maybe not to you. But if you expect to keep me as a patient, barring all emergencies, you won’t keep me waiting some ridiculous length of time past our appointment. I’m not angry. I’m not frustrated. But I also don’t have accept your low efficiency. I’ll just find someone who can do a great job. Quick. Clean. and Kind.
There. That’s all I’m gonna complain about today. Good thing it’s 9pm.