Last night, I had my annual visit with the nurse practitioner. I had been told to arrive 15 min. prior to my appointment and had received the text alerts for days before.
So imagine my surprise when I was greeted by the lone receptionist nearly coming off a 12 hour shift.
Me: I’m Rochelle- I’m here for my 7:15 pm
Greeter: Hmmmm, it says you’re not due until July.
(Now, before I divulge my reply, you should know that we have had no air conditioning for over three weeks- the house being at an average of 79 degrees. This was also the evening of my anniversary and I chose to get my action elsewhere… and, I had specifically explained to the scheduling woman weeks ago, that my insurance considers January the new year- meaning, I don’t have to wait a year and a day for an appointment.)
Me: You don’t think you’re going to tell me at 7:16 pm that I no longer have an appointment!
(You should also know, I don’t take very well to being called, “ma’am.”)
Me: I received numerous texts and alerts, and I’m here now; I’m not leaving.
Greeter: Well, it’s our office policy that you have to wait a year and a day. I’ll have to call my supervisor.
Me: You can call anybody you want, but I am not leaving until I’ve been seen.
…. After the phone call…
Greeter: I can put you through but you are going to be billed personally.
Me: That’s ok- I have no problem disputing that.
Greeter: I’m just relaying the message.
Me: I shaved my legs, waxed my bikini area and scarfed down my anniversary dinner so that I could have my uterus maintenance- I’m just letting you know, someone was going to see me no matter what!
Thirty-five minutes later, I was finally brought back to the room.
NOBODY, PUTS BABY IN THE CORNER.