A visit to a doctor’s office is always a good way to observe people and learn.
I had an appt. on Thursday at 1:30. This is a regular good ol’ GP who sees anybody for anything. My Phys. Assist. at my old pdoc’s office got me in with her. She’s very popular. Proof of that is the 1 1/2 hours that I had to sit in the waiting room.
Usually, I take a book along to read but this day, I forgot it on the kitchen table. Not in the mood for conversation, I sat and listened to other people talk. Soon, I found myself jumping in on the talk.
One guy told a really sad story about how his wife got hooked on prescription meds when his young son had died. A pdoc prescribed her several different emotion-numbing meds to get her through her grief. Soon, he said that she had become addicted. She would go through her month’s supply and than hit the streets to buy more. Poor guy said that he had lost his home, his car, and all of his savings to the insatiable appetite that she had for the drugs. He said that she weighed 140 lbs when their son died and was now down to 79 pounds. He had sought treatment for her from several venues but so far, had no luck in helping her kick the monkey on her back. So sad…….
One lady told a story about a local pdoc who is known in this area for his generosity in prescribing drugs. He and 3 other staff members at his office would see around 150 patients a day. That’s around 40 each. Forty patients in eight hours….you do the math. Spending just enough time with each patient to “treat ‘em and street ‘em”…..handing out prescriptions like Halloween candy. She said that as soon as you left his office, you’d be approach by people in the parking lot saying, “What did they give you? Do you want to trade it for what I have? Or, do you want to sell it?” Crying shame….pdoc parking lot transformed into a drug dealer’s paradise.
After the few people that I was talking to got called back into the doc’s office, I was sitting there reading the signs on the walls. You know….how to tell if a mole is cancerous, why it’s better to breast feed your baby, the importance of exercise in seeking wellness, etc.
Suddenly, I heard a garbled voice say, “Hey, you know anybody who wants to spend time with me?” The voice was coming from over my shoulder and I turned to see who was being addressed. It was me that the lady was talking to. Now, don’t get your panties in a wad and call me insensitive or politically incorrect…but….the lady had one of the illnesses/diseases that makes one talk in a halting manner and like you have your mouth full of marbles or something. I am not poking fun at her. I just want you to get the picture.
“on my soap box”
I hesitate to use the word “retarded” because I know I’ll get somebody on their high horse giving me a lecture about using the word. Just like the word “midget”. We are no longer allowed to use that word. What’s wrong with using words that describe somebody? It’s stupid to have to think of a whole prhase to describe something when one word gives you the exact picture. I turned around and looked over the half-wall separating the waiting room into two halves. There was a dark haired lady wearing glasses peering over the wall at me.
“steps off soapbox”
“Excuse me?” I said.
Now remember, she was very hard to understand.
“Do you know anybody who wants a job driving me around? It would be on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. It pays $7.40 an hour.But, not Wednesday.”
This came out soundling like “Dyou know eeny buddy wants a job dwiving me awound. It would be on Money, Toosedee, Fursday, and Fwyday. But, no Wensdee”.
I stilled wasn’t sure what she was trying to say. As I said, she was hard to understand and what I am typing that she said is my best guess. Also, I got the impression that she thought seven dollars and forty cents was really high pay for driving her around.
As politely as I could, I said, “No, I do not know of anyone.” And, went back to reading about the results of chewing tobacco over a life time. There were some really ugly pictures in the brochure. I was fascinated by a picture of a young guy with half of his face gone as a result of smokeless tobacco aka dip, snuff when I heard this…..
“You’d need a dwirvers license, insurwance, no smoking, no swinking, and a back-up check”.
A BACK-UP CHECK???? WTF is a …..oh….then, it hit me that she meant a “background check”.
Once again, I told her that I didn’t know of anyone.
“See dat car in the parking lot with the barwes (should be bears) in the window?” She said.
“Yes, I do.” I replied.
She said, “Those are kwissing barwes! I bought them for my mover (mother).”
I thought to myself, “Why is the government paying someone to drive her around when her mother has a perfectly good car plum full of kissing bears in the back window.
I couldn’t have asked even if I wanted to but she was at it again…..
She began questioning me….
“Do you have caw (car)? Do you have insurwance?”
“Yes, I do”, I replied, “But I am not looking for a job.”
She wasn’t letting off of me……”You would get paid a lot of money…..$7.40 an howa. And, you’d only have to do it on Mondee, Toosdee, not Wensdee, Thursdee, and Fridee. You’d just have to take me to appointwnets and spend time with me.” She insisted.
My head began to hurt. It was bordering on pounding. I am usually a very nice person and try to be helpful. But this woman was driving me CWAZY!
“And, ya gotta get a backup check” she added.
My head was going to explode.
“Listen, lady” I was trying to be nice and calm. “I can’t take the job because I smoke and drink and you said that wasn’t allowed”.
Ok…I just told a lie to a retarded woman. Bad, bad bad!
Being ever persistent, she said this, “Well, you can dwink and smoke after work. You just can’t dwink and smoke when you are with me.”
My brain was working overtime trying to find something to shut her up. AHA….I said this….
“It’s embarrassing but I wouldn’t pass a backup (used her word) check. I haven’t been out of prison very long. Plus, I smoke and drink from early morning til I go to bed. I wake up and make me a Bloody Mary first thing every morning and then light a cigarette and drink and smoke. I’m sorry but I can not help you!”
She said, “well, do you know anybody else………..”
My head felt like John Henry the Steel Driving man was hammering it.
“NO!” I said.
TG, the nurse called my name. As I was going thru the door, a little elderly man leaned over and whispered to me, “That’s some good quick thinking, honey!”
A visit to a doctor’s office is always a good way to observe people and learn.
I had an appt. on Thursday at 1:30. This is a regular good ol’ GP who sees anybody for anything. My Phys. Assist. at my old pdoc’s office got me in with her. She’s very popular. Proof of that is the 1 1/2 hours that I had to sit in the waiting room.
Usually, I take a book along to read but this day, I forgot it on the kitchen table. Not in the mood for conversation, I sat and listened to other people talk. Soon, I found myself jumping in on the talk.
One guy told a really sad story about how his wife got hooked on prescription meds when his young son had died. A pdoc prescribed her several different emotion-numbing meds to get her through her grief. Soon, he said that she had become addicted. She would go through her month’s supply and than hit the streets to buy more. Poor guy said that he had lost his home, his car, and all of his savings to the insatiable appetite that she had for the drugs. He said that she weighed 140 lbs when their son died and was now down to 79 pounds. He had sought treatment for her from several venues but so far, had no luck in helping her kick the monkey on her back. So sad…….
One lady told a story about a local pdoc who is known in this area for his generosity in prescribing drugs. He and 3 other staff members at his office would see around 150 patients a day. That’s around 40 each. Forty patients in eight hours….you do the math. Spending just enough time with each patient to “treat ‘em and street ‘em”…..handing out prescriptions like Halloween candy. She said that as soon as you left his office, you’d be approach by people in the parking lot saying, “What did they give you? Do you want to trade it for what I have? Or, do you want to sell it?” Crying shame….pdoc parking lot transformed into a drug dealer’s paradise.
After the few people that I was talking to got called back into the doc’s office, I was sitting there reading the signs on the walls. You know….how to tell if a mole is cancerous, why it’s better to breast feed your baby, the importance of exercise in seeking wellness, etc.
Suddenly, I heard a garbled voice say, “Hey, you know anybody who wants to spend time with me?” The voice was coming from over my shoulder and I turned to see who was being addressed. It was me that the lady was talking to. Now, don’t get your panties in a wad and call me insensitive or politically incorrect…but….the lady had one of the illnesses/diseases that makes one talk in a halting manner and like you have your mouth full of marbles or something. I am not poking fun at her. I just want you to get the picture.
“on my soap box”
I hesitate to use the word “retarded” because I know I’ll get somebody on their high horse giving me a lecture about using the word. Just like the word “midget”. We are no longer allowed to use that word. What’s wrong with using words that describe somebody? It’s stupid to have to think of a whole prhase to describe something when one word gives you the exact picture. I turned around and looked over the half-wall separating the waiting room into two halves. There was a dark haired lady wearing glasses peering over the wall at me.
“steps off soapbox”
“Excuse me?” I said.
Now remember, she was very hard to understand.
“Do you know anybody who wants a job driving me around? It would be on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. It pays $7.40 an hour.But, not Wednesday.”
This came out soundling like “Dyou know eeny buddy wants a job dwiving me awound. It would be on Money, Toosedee, Fursday, and Fwyday. But, no Wensdee”.
I stilled wasn’t sure what she was trying to say. As I said, she was hard to understand and what I am typing that she said is my best guess. Also, I got the impression that she thought seven dollars and forty cents was really high pay for driving her around.
As politely as I could, I said, “No, I do not know of anyone.” And, went back to reading about the results of chewing tobacco over a life time. There were some really ugly pictures in the brochure. I was fascinated by a picture of a young guy with half of his face gone as a result of smokeless tobacco aka dip, snuff when I heard this…..
“You’d need a dwirvers license, insurwance, no smoking, no swinking, and a back-up check”.
A BACK-UP CHECK???? WTF is a …..oh….then, it hit me that she meant a “background check”.
Once again, I told her that I didn’t know of anyone.
“See dat car in the parking lot with the barwes (should be bears) in the window?” She said.
“Yes, I do.” I replied.
She said, “Those are kwissing barwes! I bought them for my mover (mother).”
I thought to myself, “Why is the government paying someone to drive her around when her mother has a perfectly good car plum full of kissing bears in the back window.
I couldn’t have asked even if I wanted to but she was at it again…..
She began questioning me….
“Do you have caw (car)? Do you have insurwance?”
“Yes, I do”, I replied, “But I am not looking for a job.”
She wasn’t letting off of me……”You would get paid a lot of money…..$7.40 an howa. And, you’d only have to do it on Mondee, Toosdee, not Wensdee, Thursdee, and Fridee. You’d just have to take me to appointwnets and spend time with me.” She insisted.
My head began to hurt. It was bordering on pounding. I am usually a very nice person and try to be helpful. But this woman was driving me CWAZY!
“And, ya gotta get a backup check” she added.
My head was going to explode.
“Listen, lady” I was trying to be nice and calm. “I can’t take the job because I smoke and drink and you said that wasn’t allowed”.
Ok…I just told a lie to a retarded woman. Bad, bad bad!
Being ever persistent, she said this, “Well, you can dwink and smoke after work. You just can’t dwink and smoke when you are with me.”
My brain was working overtime trying to find something to shut her up. AHA….I said this….
“It’s embarrassing but I wouldn’t pass a backup (used her word) check. I haven’t been out of prison very long. Plus, I smoke and drink from early morning til I go to bed. I wake up and make me a Bloody Mary first thing every morning and then light a cigarette and drink and smoke. I’m sorry but I can not help you!”
She said, “well, do you know anybody else………..”
My head felt like John Henry the Steel Driving man was hammering it.
“NO!” I said.
TG, the nurse called my name. As I was going thru the door, a little elderly man leaned over and whispered to me, “That’s some good quick thinking, honey!”