So, I've been having stomach yuck for a few weeks. Annoying, on again/off again, drive me crazy stomach issues. I called to make an appointment with my primary care provider, and they tell me he quit months ago. No...they didn't need to tell his patients about his abrupt departure when it happened. It's best the patients find out when they call to make an appointment for some health problem only to learn that they don't have a doctor anymore and they are now considered new patients for any new doctor, who just so happen to be scheduling new patient appointments into June. Yep. Sorry you feel like ass. We can get you in sometime in June. (it's March).
Fortunately, the woman on the phone tells me, they just hired a nurse practitioner at this place with appointments as early as April. Ok....April. I'm all for a nurse practitioner, especially since my last primary care provider wasn't the nicest person to talk to. I'm all in for April and an NP. I'll do an annual check up and talk about my stomach and it will be great. He will be nice, and he will listen and have all kinds of good health related info. Yes!
To be on the safe side, I decide to go to the walk-in clinic portion of this particular health care establishment so I'm not waiting a month with some possible emerging issue with the stomach, though. The walk-in clinic is supposed to be awesome. You feel sick and don't mind seeing someone who isn't your primary care person? Walk in for a same day appointment. Not there to manage an ongoing chronic problem? Pop in to the walk-in.
So I pop in to the clinic, wait my turn in the lobby, and after about 45 minutes, I go in to see the doctor covering walk-in patients that day. I warn you now.. well, no. I'm not going to warn you. You can be as surprised as I was.
It all started as I sat in the room and heard him talking to the nurses outside, and yes....I took some liberties with the dialogue because I can't remember word for word. I'm going for gist, here, people. Gist.
From outside the room:
"This working four days business is a real grind. I'm exhausted. complain, complain, complain." he says to all the nurses. I hear one respond, "Now you know how we feel."
Oh goodie. I hope that's my doctor out there. The door opens and yes! I'm the winner! Grouchy doctor pants to the rescue. Crap.
He says hi, asks about my symptoms, and I explain what's going on. He starts typing up what I say in his laptop. After a few typeee typeee moments, I continue to talk about what is going on and how I think it has been exacerbated by stress because it started in the midst of some stressful shit going down in stress-ville. "Hold on a minute," he says. "I have to be my own secretary now, and I'm not so fast at dictation."
After he types for a few minutes, I continue talking. "Nope. Not yet. I need a few more seconds to keep typing,"
"Ok. Now what do you think is going on with your stomach?"
uhm...me? you're asking me? the person here to see a medical professional to find out what is happening with my stomach? I say stress maybe, or an ulcer, or maybe my gallbladder is going to explode and I'll die. I'm probably eat up with the (whisper voice...)cancer. you know...something like that.
"Ok. Just wait right there. Stress doesn't cause conditions. It doesn't make you sick. It only exacerbates conditions. And it couldn't be an ulcer. And it's probably not your gallbladder, but I can't say for sure. You need your primary care physician to give you a work up to figure that out."
Oh, you mean the one who quit and no one told me, resulting in me not getting another appointment for a month?
He then proceeds to tell me that my former doctor quit because he felt he couldn't provide good medical care in the current health care climate. One day after lunch he supposedly walked into the administrator's office, said to cancel all his appointments and that he was quitting. "But he was a great doctor. He was my doctor. It's too bad he's gone. You will probably never have access to a good health care provider again going forward. It's a sad state of affairs."
I sit on the exam table, he pokes around my guts for a minute, and says I probably have a Hiatal Hernia. Classic symptoms. That's probably it. All from a two second poke around and a few minutes of typing on his laptop. He can't confirm or deny that because that's not his gig, but if he were a betting man, that was his guess.
My primary care person would have to do the full work up. He also says I would probably be sent to a specialist, but that most doctors now don't even know who a good specialist is because they aren't good at providing the medical care and it's too bad my first guy quit because he definitely knew who the good specialists are.
I tell him I have an appointment with the new nurse practitioner in April to be my primary care provider and surely that guy will send me to a good specialists. (all my nurse practitioner friends probably want to skip the next bit to avoid rage.)
"I can only speak to the doctor level of expertise. Doctor training is so high. It's up here (hand at his face). All those others are down here (hand significantly lower). It's a way to be cheap, cheap, cheap. You'll probably never get to see another doctor again. It's sad. That's the way this is going. And I can't speak to that person you are going to see. He might or might not know the good specialists. I don't know his background and expertise. You might be sent to a specialists who isn't good at the surgery for the hernia. Your old doctor would have known."
Oh dear. His outlook for my healthcare future is terribly bleak. I ask him, "What would you do if you were me?"
"Ha! I'm a DOCTOR." (note that the "ha" was original dialogue. he actually laugh/scoffed at me.)
Yes, but what would you do?
"Well, I will have access to the good specialists. I will know who to go to."
Well, since I have a whole month between now and when I see my new primary care provider, what should I do between now and then for my symptoms?
"Nothing, unfortunately. There's nothing you can do."
Really? There is no way for me to be proactive?
"Well. I guess you could try antacids."
I'm taking omeprazole. Should I keep that up?
"Sure. That's some kind of acid reducer. Sorry that you aren't getting the answers that you want, but I'm giving you the truth."
Well...there we go. That was my experience seeing "The Doctor" today. I walked out, looked at the nurses and said, "He's as uplifting as hell." They laughed. I guess they hear that all the time.
