Mrs. HM Hates Change

I went to the doctor nurse practitioner on Tuesday, for a yearly checkup. This was my first time in the new facility that they moved to in November. I hate going new places. I like to know the exact layout, so I can mentally prepare myself. I knew the old clinic on the upper floors of the hospital building. I knew where the bathrooms were located. How far I'd have to walk to get to my appointment. Where I would be sitting while waiting. The thought of this appointment gave me the jitters. Should I take my cane? Would there be any steps to navigate? What if I needed the bathroom while waiting? How would I find the right office?

At least I had Farmer H driving me over to Bill-Paying Town for this appointment. To drop me off at the door. He had refused neglected to drive by over the six weeks I had asked him to find the place. At that morning, he did not feel the need to look up the address on his phone. He was "pretty sure" the building would be located behind the hospital.

We left in plenty of time for my 9:30 appointment. Got over there at 8:53, for my arrival time of 9:15. Yet Farmer H drove right past the street. I calmly pointed out that he had just passed it. 

"Huh. I can get there this way, and go behind the hospital. But I'll turn around and go back."

Sure. He said that to save face. There was no road going to this facility from the hospital. He turned around in an apartment complex, and backtracked. Let me off at the front door, which had several yellow-painted concrete pillars to keep people from driving right through the double doors.

I'm no architect, but I think I could have designed a better entrance. Once through the two sets of double doors, there was a horizontal hallway. I stepped in to look at the sign on the wall listing the doctors and the suites where their offices were located. All I could gather was that my very own NP was on the ground floor. 

Hm. A dilemma. I chose to turn right, and walk into the large waiting area and ask for directions. The first desk was labeled LAB. Not what I was looking for. Past it was a counter with three receptionist-looking women seated behind it. I stopped at the first one. 

"I'm looking for [my NP's] office."

"Well, you found it!"

That gal was SO helpful. Cheerful. Looked up my appointment. Told me they had been "calling from both ends," so I might want to choose a seat in the middle of the room. Well. Easier said than done. That place was packed. I saw a wide seat under the front windows. That's always good. Nobody sick can sit right on top of you! I chose it. 

At 9:15, my name was called. Way down at the opposite end of that cattle corral. It took me a couple minutes to get to the gal who called me. She took me down a hall behind closed doors, to a scale. And then to an exam room, where she took my blood pressure, pulse, and oxygen level. Left me to wait (less than 5 minutes!) for the NP to come in.

We had a nice visit. I got my prescription refills. He listened to my lungs and belly. Didn't bother to stick that looky thing up my nostrils or in my ears. Complimented me on my weight loss, and asked my secret. PORTION CONTROL! Told me balance is one thing that can be practiced and improved. And not to wait too long if I was considering knee replacement surgery, as his mom almost did, but got it at 72 years old. Then he showed me the way to the lab area. Where a gal explained how it worked, and sent me back out to sign in for the LAB, and wait again in the cattle corral.

Sweet Gummi Mary! That corral was packed. No comfy wide seat as a buffer. I had to sit in a regular seat (not at all uncomfortable) in a row of three. The skinniest man in the world was sitting in my previous wide seat. AS IF he needed that! He was like Jack Sprat, having never eaten fat in his life. Oh, there was another wide seat across from me, with a little slip of a gal sitting there, all complainy, asking if she might have missed hearing her name, but the LAB receptionist told her no, they were just really busy. And get this! About 30 minutes later, when Slippy was called back, an old lady on a mobility scooter came in, and backed her scooter up in front of that wide bench, blocking its use by anybody else. Are you freakin' kidding me? She had a built-in seat on her scooter! She could have parked against a wall. No need to disable a perfectly good seat.

Anyhoo... after 45 minutes I finally got called back to give my blood sample. It was quite a hike into the inner sanctum, past three bays with curtains. In the old place, it was just a step inside the door.

Nobody waiting in this new clinic seem particularly happy to be there. In the old place, there were different groupings of chairs for the assorted doctors. Not one giant room where everybody had to wait together, eyeing each other for lack of anything better to do. Not a magazine in sight.

At least next time I'll know what to expect: an unpleasant experience.