Shitty Pens & Doctor Office Derangements
You know when you go to doctor and they ask you to fill out those freaking medical forms for the third time this year. They know and I know and I know they know that my name, date of birth, and height hasn't changed since last Tuesday. So why are they doing this to us?
Like, the form literally asks for...
- Name? They know my name because they just called me up here to hand me these forms.
- Date of Birth? Seriously. they know that too because it was the first question they asked me when I walked in here 5 minutes ago. And, I know it's already in their system because I was standing there when they looked it up on their computer.
- Phone number? Let me ask you a question. When these people called me just yesterday to confirm this appointment did they just get lucky guessing my phone number?
- Address? Really? They need my address AGAIN even though in 27 years I've never ONCE gotten a single fucking piece of mail from them?
QUICK DIGRESSION: not important or relevant, but still pertinent. Why do they ask us to FILL OUT the forms? Don't they actually mean that the forms need to be FILLED IN? How did we screw this up so badly? And, why is this even a problem? It's a form, a piece of paper with questions and requests for various pieces of information and right next to each request is an absolutely unmistakable, blank space for the answer. So, if what they want is for me to FILL IN the blank space then WHY do they ask me to FILL IT OUT?
What's more, 95% of the time, the blank space isn't JUST a blank space; it's an EMPTY BOX just begging to be FILLED IN so where they get FILLED OUT, I have no idea, but it's weird and it makes me mad... I digress. BACK TO THE MATTER AT HAND.
What's with the pursed lips and fake and annoyed line-forming smile on the face of the receptionist as they hand you the paperwork you're meant to FILL IN? Is that how these people treat everyone whose day they've already taken an active role in ruining? BE NIICCCEEE for godsakes!
AN EXAMPLE OF NICE: It's very NICE that someone took the time to buy these clipboards I'm now leaning on to fill in these completely useless forms that they've asked me to fill out. I cannot even begin to imagine sitting here trying to balance the three pieces of paper they just handed me on my thigh as I'm bent over at an unconscionable angle and trying to fit my entire life story in the tiny 2 centimeter blank box for the 19th freaking time this year.
Maybe, it occurs to me, what they mean by FILL OUT is the sick joy they get sitting back there behind their desks watching people poke holes in their forms and get pen ink all over their brand new work pants. Thank God for clipboards BUT that's only if you're lucky enough to have a Dr who was smart enough to hire an office manager who was pissed off enough about ruining one too many of her own work pants. If not, you're shit out of luck and you're going to ruin your clothes at your next Dr visit.
This clipboard is so awesome and helpful that for a split second I actually consider that just maybe this shitty experience isn't all that bad. But then reality sets back in when I'm reminded that this is as good as it's gonna get at the Dr's office today. From here on out it's likely to be all downhill. And by downhill I'm SPECIFICALLY referring to the totally useless, shitty 12-cent pen they gave me to fill out their useless fucking forms.
Now I'm starting to sweat and panic and am forced to weigh my options:
- MAYBE I should leave and find another Dr. who doesn't torture their patients with ridiculous forms no one actually looks at or needs and shitty useless pens no one can possibly use.
- OR MAYBE I can find a Dr who's really into technology whose office greets every patient with an iPad instead of a useless pen that hardly works because every town has at least one tech-obsessed dr.
- OR MAYBE I should drive home real quick, get a pen I like, and shoot right back here.
But because I'm dogged by this nagging sense that I'm over-complicating things and that I need to just calm down and stop being so ridiculous and heavy-handed, I'm somehow able to get just zen enough to realize that the solution had been staring me in the face all along.
THE SOLUTION: OHHHHH, I know. I'm going to dramatically simplify things by taking a short trip to the office supply store in town to buy a normal fucking pen. That's definitely the move! I'll just run over there, find a pen that actually works, and then shoot right back here.
Plus, I love office supply stores. But, just as I'm getting all self-congratulatory and prideful about my idea and excited about my upcoming trip to the local office supply store, I suddenly remember something that's long troubled me, something that sometimes keeps me up nights, something I've never quite been able to get my head around — most stores, like all of them pretty much, only sell the same shitty pens that get handed out in Drs offices. WHY IS THIS?
I'm so upended by this sudden recollection that I can only just barely hear what's being told to me over the whirring sound of blood coursing through my veins like a tidal wave. WWHHHOOOSSSHHHHH...
Oh and Mr. David...
WWWHHHOOOSSSHHHHH
....please make sure to write....
WWWHHHHOOOSSSHHHH
....clearly and neatly within the spaces provided when you are.....
WWWHHHOOOSSHHHH
DON'T SAY IT I hear an inner voice scream, DO NOT SAY IT!
...filling out those forms. Neater, of course, is always better. For us, I mean. We don't want any problems.
Another inner voice scream back, OH FUCK, SHE SAID IT!
YOU DON'T KNOW FROM PROBLEMS HONEY, says a third inner voice wailing from some deep, ancient crevice somewhere inside my soul, just as I'm thinking to myself, "Like wow, thanks, so glad you reminded me to write clearly and legibly because I was actually planning to write in my messiest, 2nd-grade handwriting and completely ignore the teeny-tiny little boxes some moron actually expects us to fit our life stories into."
At nearly the exact moment the dr. office person finishes talking to me like I'm 5 years old and I finish screaming at the world inside my brain, I happen to glance up to the top of the first page of the forms I'm filling OUT where I see that it reads: "Please Write Clearly".
That was the last thing I remembered before things took a decided turn for the worse......