>No offense to my dear friends Dr. P and Dr. H, but I fucking hate doctors. Last Thursday morning a semi-intelligible message was left on my answering machine from someone at my doctor’s office, both confirming that I am scheduled for an appointment on Friday at 10:30 am and that I need to call with my new insurance information. Of course, I completely forgot about said appointment or I would have rescheduled it for September, as I am currently “between” insurance coverages. (Hence dropping the computer on my foot last week was not great timing. I’m pretty sure that it is not fractured, but I didn’t go to the ER or any doctor to find out for sure, either.)
Anyway, I was mad busy at work and did not have a chance to call the doctor’s office back until the end of the day. I carefully explained my situation (“I don’t have insurance right now. Can I reschedule the appointment for September?”) to the douche bag who is temporarily (I hope) replacing the normal staff, which consisted of two women who recently gave birth. Douchie tells me that Dr. So-and-So has a 24 hour notice of cancellation policy, and I will need to pay for my appointment if I cancel. (He seems to not notice that I am canceling because I don’t fucking want to pay out of pocket, and thus am not likely to pay their cute little fee.)
Coldly (my voice was an icicle dagger, I swear), I tell Douchie that is very nice and all, but I have been a patient for a very, very long time and I have never cancelled at the last minute before, whereas Dr. So-and-So has actually cancelled on me quite often at the last minute. Douchie thinks this over and says that he will mention it to Dr. So-and-So and see what he says. I suggest that he do that.
Later, when I relate this story to Husband, he tells me that there was once a Seinfeld episode where a doctor cancels someone’s appointment to go skiing, and all hell breaks loose. Normally I find Seinfeld annoyingly contrived, but that seems about right to me.