Friday, May 7, 2010

Disgusting clinics for Insurance-less chaps

Weeeeelllllll, goood afternoon.

Tuesday afternoon I was forced to go to the doctor for an apparent bladder infection.  I'd noticed it about 3 weeks ago, where I just felt like I had overstretched my stomach muscles, but they weren't unstretching themselves.  I thought it was from working out, so I stopped going for a couple days, and the pain persisted. Shortly after, my lower back started to ache, and my stomach felt heavy.  I felt like I was wearing a clip on Donald Duck fanny pack fulla lard. I try my very hardest to never go to the doctor, mostly because I hate it, but also because I'm always afraid that a little twinge or twitch is going to be something incurable or severe.  So I made an appoitment at a place called Aunt Martha's, in a ghetto, shoot 'em up town called Kankakee, IL.  Kankakee is the kind of town that should be on the show First 48 on A&E, and I often like to refer to it as "a slum of Chicago wannabe". It's not uncommon to open the newspaper everyday and read about someone getting shot at, run over, and robbed on a daily basis in this exceptional hole. 

"KANKAKEE -- Authorities in Kankakee say they've charged a 21-year-old woman with involuntary manslaughter in the death of a legless man whose body was pulled from the Kankakee River this week. --Daily Harold "  See? Even legless hobos aren't safe.

Since I have about a gazillion bills to pay every month, health insurance is not an option for me right now. So, I have to make an appointment at this clinic, because they take donations rather then insurance.  I usually give them $10 bucks a visit. My appointment was 12:45, Tuesday afternoon, May 4th. I took a half day off work, knowing this place is slow, and took a book of scary stories to keep me company in the overfilled, over-smelly, lobby of goons.  The past two times I'd been there, I waited for close to an hour and half before being called, so I was prepared. 

After about an hour, I'd read almost 2 chapters of my book, when I heard a lady in the corner, stomping, huffing and checking her watch.  I heard her say, "Goin on 3 hours now!"...I figured she was just exaggerating, so I carried on. Another half hour went by, and I was starting to get angsty.  Normally, I wouldn't mind so much, but this place is full of loud, obnoxious, assholes who have no respect for the people around them.  Half of them are coughing or picking an orafice, half of them are talking on the phone as loud as possible about how, "no man aint gonna get nuna dis jelly!' and, the rest are holding there four crying babies and filing their nails at the same time.  It's quite a spectacle.  Normally, I would be patient, but I was agitated with the surroundings, and incredibly uncomfortable in the tiny chair, that I finally went up to the window and asked how much longer it was going to be.  I made up a lie that I had to pick up my boyfriend and had to leave at about 3:30, which is reasonable I think considering my appointment was at 12:45.  The receptionist quietly explained to me, "The primary doctor had to leave to assist another clinic, and there is a new doctor in her spot, and she's very slow..." She looked through the files..."you still have 5 people in front of you, and there's 5 in the rooms right now who haven't been seen yet."  This was at 2:30. 

Let me tell you something, when you are hurting, or there is something unexplained happening to or in your body, the last thing you want to hear when your waiting in a doctors office, is that you will have to wait 2 or 3 more hours to see a doctor.  Even when I told them the circumstances, that didn't sway them.  There was NO way, I was waiting until 6 or 7 o' clock to see the doctor. If they knew she was going to get called out, they should have called all those people and rescheduled them, or told them they'd call them when it was ok to come in, or something! Come on.  So, I went in to my car, and just broke down crying with fury.  I was mad because they wanted me to wait, and I was mad because I didn't have insurance. In desperation, I called my poor dad and asked him if I could borrow money to see the doctor in my own town.  I'd been going to him since as far back as I could remember, when I HAD insurance (on my parents', which ended at 19).  But at that point, my boyfriend was getting off work, so I reluctantly asked him for the money instead.  I HATE asking people for money.  The guilt eats away at me worse then the Langoliers eat time zones.  So I called the other doctors office, and then told me they'd take me without an appointment.  Without even letting the office of Aunt Satan's Asshole know I was leaving, I booked it down the expressway to the other clinic, in my own town, 30 seconds from my house.  I was in and out of there an in a hour, and it only cost me $68 bucks with a 45% discount designed to help people without insurance.  I couldn't stop thanking them.  I felt stupid at how many times I thanked them for helping me, but I was so happy, I couldn't help myself.  Turns out, I did have a bladder infunction, and I was put on an antibiotic.

I vowed that I will never go back to that place...EVER.  I am convinced too, that the doctors at Aunt Satan's are clueless idiots who shouldn't be doctors.  I remembered something she said to me last time I was there, which I am not inclined to share for any reason, but I looked it up on WebMD the next day, and the website completely proved her wrong.  It's sad that I believe a website over a doctor. Very sad indeed.

I am feeling better now, by the way!

Thank you Riverside clinic. Forever and always, Britt.

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