A Visit to the Doctor's Office

I was told the doctor wasn’t there because she had injured her back.  However, my condition was considered serious enough to be tested by the nurse.  All they needed was a urine sample.  Why they made me wait an extra day to come in for something the nurse could have done the day before is beyond me, but I won’t belabor the point.

They had me pee in a cup, then sit in the waiting room while they ran the test.  So there I am, sitting in their hard-backed chairs with the tasteful, cloth covers when I notice something.  Every chair in the room – about a dozen – had a stain on it.

I’m not one of those people who insists on a perfectly clean environment, but it strikes me as particularly undesirable for a doctor’s office to have stained furniture.  I couldn’t help wondering where the stains had come from.  I found my self eying the shape, color, and position of the stains, making guesses.  I found myself on the edge of my seat, unwilling to relax when I knew there was a stain right behind me.

The nurse then came back from the lab and informed me that – gosh, gee – I was right.  I did have an infection.  She then precedes to ask all those nosey questions normally reserved for the examination room – which I never reached –  across about 12 feet of space, including the receptionist’s counter and the receptionist herself.  One question after another asked so quickly I didn’t have time to think about what the most accurate answer might be.  I’m only glad the waiting room didn’t fill up until a few minutes later.

The result is that I’m not entirely sure I really got what I needed.  I’m hopeful, but not absolutely sure.  Yet I’m not about to complain.  After all, they did try to accommodate me.  That’s better than I might have gotten.