The
other day I was standing at the counter in the doctor’s office for the third time
in as many weeks and for the second time the receptionist said I needed to be
weighed and measured. I told her I still
remembered what I weighed and how high I was from the week before but she said
she would have to do it again and this time she would write it down. Naturally I was still 5 foot 6 inches but
despite fasting for my blood work I was a frightful 3 pounds heavier than the
previous week. How was that even
possible?
Some
of the rules now in place with the health care system is really
ridiculous. The ladies in the medical
clinic that I go to have known me for 30 years and yet they have to ask for my
health card every time I come in. Now
they have to weigh and measure you ever time you come in. What do they think is going to happen between
visit? Am I going to morph into an
alien, an out-of-towner, or what? Is
someone going to have plastic surgery and look like me and have a dubious
doctor’s visit in my stead? Sure I can understand
for a first time visitor, but what is the purpose of identifying someone you
actually know? I’m living in a small
town where everyone knows everyone, in fact they know a whole lot more about a
person than is seemly, in my opinion.
And
that’s another thing now that I’m on the subject. After attending at the hospital the other day
for my lab work I thought I would just slip into my bank to hand in some
paperwork since I was in town. There were
two cashiers open and two customers at their counter so I was next in
line. The one customer was there with
her son and was obviously trying to straighten out some mess he had made in his
account. Great, I knew that was going to
be a while. The other lady seemed to
conducting ordinary business but minute after minute went by and I was leaning
against a counter, favouring my aching leg and wondering what could possibly
take 3 minutes at a bank counter?
Really, people, this should be a quick in-and-out procedure, 2 minutes
tops. Five minutes later, she signs the
counter note and then she decides to have a personal chat with the teller. Cue for me to turn around and forget it. Limping out I wonder at the rudeness of
people. It’s one thing to chat while you
are conducting your business but to hold up a teller (or cashier, or
receptionist, or whoever is the service person) when there are other people in
line . . . well, I just don’t understand it.
It’s true, I am not the most patient person in a lineup at the best of
times, but when one is in agony simply standing then social chitchat needs to
give way.
But
then, when I’m about my business its all about me!
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