My Kaleidoscope Eyes

I went to the doctor’s office this morning for some seasonal preventive care and this is what I encountered: a 2.5-hour wait time, a plethora of family oriented magazines (Baby Health and the like) and an impossible stack of paperwork asking for all the same information to be repeated in triplicate. All the necessary evils thrown into my lap just so I can see a certain Dr. Gruber for a piece of paper that lets me go to the pharmacy and pick up a preventive inhaler. (Curse you, allergy season). I don’t know about you, but this isn’t exactly my idea of a productive Friday morning.

I know, who am I to complain? I am but one of 305 million people in the United States with the right to receive healthcare – but come on! Two and a half hours? If there’s one thing I’ve learned about growing up in capitalist America it’s that Time = Money. I hate wasting my time. I especially hate wasting my time in a room full of whiny children and suburban-minded mothers who like to discipline using the word “we”. As in, “What do we say?” or “We don’t hit, do we.” Kill me now.

What’s the point in making an appointment when you still have to wait for two and a half hours? Why wasn’t my appointment at 11:30 a.m. instead of 9:00 a.m.?

In the end, all I actually got was just under five minutes of face time with my new doctor who, I should mention, seems to be about my age if not a year or two younger. It’s weird- I’m finally getting to that age where there are professionals around me that are younger than I am. When did this happen exactly? To top it off, his slight attractiveness made for a very awkward visit. I found myself making giggly small talk with him, and I swear that he gave me a little squeeze as he leaned over me to check my breathing with his stethoscope. He said I was fine, as I already knew. I just said I wanted some preventive care before things got really bad. So, he wrote me a prescription and said to check back in with him in a month. What for? So I could wait another two and a half hours for a five-minute flirt session?

I have to admit though, the idea of being romantically involved with a doctor is kind of exhilirating. Imagine the role playing possibilities… hmmm, food for thought. Not that I actually expect anything to advance with this doctor. I have bigger problems. The real lesson here is that there’s something to be said about out-of-the-ordinary flirtatious encounters. It makes people feel good, doesn’t it? It doesn’t even have to mean anything besides “hey, I just felt like talking to you.” Flirting is good. It throws people off their routines and makes for more interesting and quite possbily, more healthy, days.

It’s like that saying, “An apple a day keeps the doctor away.” Well, maybe in my case, a flirty encounter a day will also keep the doctor away. How ironic. Then I wouldn’t have to consider making an appointment to wait two and a half hours for a temporary ego boost and some medication I don’t really need.