Forgive me but I need to rant because for the 2nd time in the past few years I have fallen victim to shoddy treatment by a medical professional. I’m respectful of those who have achieved higher education for the benefit of others but I draw the line at those who do not reciprocate that same respect. (you know, if it wasn’t for us, you’d have no patients and therefore no livelihood)
Like so many women I have had annoying bladder issues for the better part of my adult life and at my last physical my GP suggested we look into it further to see if we could find a cause. I was referred in January 2019 to a ‘Bladder Clinic’ located in Halifax. Two weeks ago in June, 18 months after the referral, I got a call for an appointment in early July. (ok, they’re either really, really good, justifying an 18 month wait, or really, really bad at time management) The offices are located in the main hospital, a bit of a nuisance as it’s in the centre of the city but at least my appointment was mid afternoon, so I shouldn’t encounter any business traffic. Two days before the appointment I received a call asking me to come earlier to allow for Covid screening, which is required everywhere now. No problem. I arrived at 2:00 for my 2:30 appointment.
Once screening was complete I was sent up to the offices where I was registered at the main desk, then directed to a waiting area. After about 10 minutes I was taken into an office where a nurse asked some preliminary questions and ran a few tests. She was friendly and pleasant when leaving, and wished me a nice day advising the doctor would be in shortly, closing the door behind her. The only furnishing in the sparse room was a bed, some bins full of equipment and a desk with a computer. I glanced at the computer screen noting it was 2:38pm when the nurse left me.
I didn’t have my cell with me or any reading material so I busied myself counting the ceiling tiles and looking out the window. Every so often I’d hear footsteps and readied myself to meet the doctor, but they all went past my door. I checked the time on their computer frequently (there was nothing else to do) and grew more and more irritated with each passing moment. Finally, at 4:00 I opened the door hoping someone would notice I was in there, still waiting. I glanced out into the hallway and the only person other than me was an elderly man mopping the floors. The waiting room was empty. I glanced into the 2 adjoining offices and they too were empty. I wandered out further and glanced down the hall but not a sole was to be seen. Puzzled I walked out to the registration area where I’d checked in to ask if they could help me but the main doors were closed, the staff apparently gone home. I went back into the room gathered my things and left, super annoyed, largely at the doctor for operating such sloppy business practices, but partially at myself for being stupid enough to sit there for an hour and a half.
When I arrived home my husband said the doctors office had called at 4:05 looking for me, which would coincide with my departure because my parking ticket was stamped 4:07 when I paid to leave, so she finally arrived in the examination room just after I left. He said they were apologetic about the delays, ‘they were really busy’, and wanted me to call to reschedule. Really? I waited a year and a half for the appointment, wasted half a day, paid $10.00 for parking, and spent just under an hour driving home because now I was in rush hour traffic. Do you honestly think I will EVER come back to this office? What kills me here is the arrogance. You leave a prospective new patient in a closed room for 90 minutes and never check in to let them know the situation? How dare you treat people this way. It’s a lucky thing you’re paid by government cause if this was a private business you’d be bankrupt!
The license granted to a professional entitles them to ply their trade, period. It does not give them license to treat another poorly simply because they can, and how they choose to behave is very much a choice, a choice of conscience, and shamefully some so called ‘professionals’ clearly do not have a conscience. (I guess all that education can’t buy you common courtesy?)
If you truly had a calling to help humanity in the form of medical aid then do it with humility and what should be mutual respect, and if you can’t manage that, go get a job with the post office or airport security – where patrons are used to being treated like crap.
That’s me. I am one of those people who does everything in high gear. I walk fast, talk fast, I even eat fast (my husband calls me ‘The Hoover’ because he says I inhale my food like a vacuum) By contrast, my husband is exceedingly methodical. By the time he has selected his condiments, freshened his drink, and settled down to eat I’m done and already eyeing his pork chop. (Jeez, when I see it in print I feel like the Tasmanian Devil)
I don’t quite know what it is that sets our pace but I do know that, for me at least, it’s locked in place, I just can’t seem to slow down. I once worked with a woman who did everything at a snail’s pace. She walked slowly, carefully, and every action she performed was orderly and well thought out. I could no sooner slow down to her pace than she could speed up to mine and in hindsight we probably made quite a sight, she slowly gliding along, and me kicking up the dust in a flurry of movement beside her.
Even when I walk I move quickly, I know, not because I’m aware of it, but because I’m usually breathless when I get to my destiny. There’s a very small number of friends willing to walk with me because they usually can’t keep up. I don’t stroll or saunter. I walk with purpose, my stride is confident, and if you’re in my way, you should move cause I won’t be held responsible for injury sustained when I bowl you over.
You would think then that I would be a prime candidate to run, but no (I guess I’m not in that much of a hurry) I do not run or jog, for 2 reasons. First, it hurts. On the rare occasion I’ve had to run my hip joints seized up so tight I could barely move for days after. Second, it’s no fun. I defy you to find any jogger smiling as they run past you. They always look pained and well,,,, angry, as though some one forced them to do it. (I have no desire to inflict such pain on myself) At least when I walk I can relax, and I do.
I wonder occasionally about the effects of rushing on my health. Does my inability to slow down keep me fit or does it exhaust my system such that I could suffer long term ill effects (could this be why I have high blood pressure?) On the other hand, I sleep very soundly and for a good 8 hours each night,,,,surely that must be restorative, and likely a direct result of my high energy pace in waking hours?
I know with certainty I am not alone. There are many like me who consistently run on high and I’m not sure which is better, moving through life in a hurry or taking it easy. On one hand I’d like to think speeding through life means I can accomplish more in the same amount of time. On the other, I wonder if I’m missing things because in my rush I’m not “stopping to smell the roses”. Either way, I don’t see myself changing any time soon so I see no point in over-analyzing it (I don’t like the smell of roses anyway)
My daughter just had her first baby, a girl, and my 4th granddaughter.(this’d be a good time to invest in shares of Procter & Gamble cause in about 14 years sales of feminine products are gonna sky rocket, thanks to my childrens contribution to the growing female population!) She came into this world kicking and screaming and if she’s anything like her mother she’ll remain feisty. (she gets that from her father)
I marvel at her very existence. Her mind is a clean slate and every day of her future offers endless possibilities. She will have choices, choices of her education, her career, her lifestyle, and opportunity abounds. She will make mistakes, mistakes that cause her heartache and suffering, and she will celebrate her many successes. Each life event, good or bad, will leave its’ mark on her sole and at the end of her time here, that weathered sole is all she will take with her when she leaves this world. Wouldn’t we all like to start over, skip the mistakes, make better choices? Maybe,,,,,, maybe not.
When I look back on my life now I see where I erred. I have my regrets and there’s any number of situations I might’ve handled differently, but if I had, would I still be the same person I am today? (Now there’s a loaded question)
Like anyone, I have my moments of reflection and there are events that have occurred in my life I’m not quite sure I understand but I have to trust that they occurred for a reason. Each encounter brought someone new into my world, if only briefly, and each experience, good or bad, taught me something of value and I’d like to think I gleaned what I could from each, adding to my library of information. Now, in my mature years, I scan the books in my library and allow myself to wallow in the memories. The painful memories are now less painful, lessons having been learned, and the happy memories remain happy and fresh in my minds’ eye. (maybe that’s our reward for surviving the battle of life?)
Today dear granddaughter you begin your journey, your battle to survive life. You will play and learn and laugh and cry, and I am privileged to be one of those chosen to walk this path with you. I promise to help you see the beauty of this life and I will help you to shoulder the challenges. All I ask of you is to be kind, to yourself and others. Give yourself room to grow, forgive wholeheartedly, and love unconditionally, and know that it’s ok to falter.
It’s ok to cry, let it out (it’s cleansing and teaches us humility)
It’s ok to make mistakes because that’s how you will learn. (trial and error)
It’s ok to say or do something you regret, as long as you make it right for all involved. (keep a clear conscience)
It’s ok to not be perfect because none of us are, just celebrate who you are (no judgement)
and, most importantly,,,,,,, it is always, ALWAYS ok to have salami and Oreo cookies for breakfast at Nana’s house.
Welcome to the world little one!
I love music and keep my radio on all day. In fact, if I had to give up one of my electronic devices, it’d be my television set. (there’s nothing worth watching anyway) And I love a very broad range of music styles, Calypso, Reggae, Country, Rock, Pop, and even some Classical (not Jazz though, never Jazz,,,and no bagpipes,,,,ghastly noise) I am neutral on most artists because every artist is likely to have at least one song I like, and I do have my favourites. I love Nana Mouskouri – hers is a very unique style, an operatic voice set to a combination pop/classical/European folk music, with a substantial Greek band behind her. I admire her range and respect her knowledge of several languages, in all of which, she sings fluently.
I like KD Lang. Her crystal clear voice and throaty after-tones, tell you without a doubt that she is feeling every note of her music. When she sings, she is ‘The Girl from Ipanema’, and I’ve yet to hear any one singer or group sing Leonard Cohen’s ‘Hallelujah’ like she does. Some songs are just meant for one artist. Elvis and ‘Can’t help falling in love’, Bing Crosby and ‘White Christmas’, many have tried their version of these songs but there’s nothing quite like the original. (so give it up already and find your own songs instead of coasting on the coattails of another’s success)
I admire the multi-talented female artists like Alison Krauss and Dolly Parton but you can only listen to one or two songs before you’ve had enough because of their high pitched voices….after a while it starts to sound too much like shrieking. (I think mid pitched voices are the easiest on the ears, alto or the male baritone) And while Sarah McLachlan and Diana Kroll have lovely voices, I can’t appreciate eithers genre. Diana Krolls’ ‘Bluesy’ style always takes me to a smokey saloon where a hard looking woman is sobbing into her cups, and Sarah McLachlans’ style is exceedingly somber (does she ever sing anything upbeat?) I’ve dubbed hers ‘music to slit your wrists by’.
And I know I’m alone in saying this but I honestly think Roy Orbison and Vince Gill strain when they sing. It’s like the song has been set in a key that’s just slightly out of range of their ability.
I like Keith Urban, Cat Stevens, and John Fogarty but I also harbor a secret love of the older performers like Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra, or the more eclectic Don Ho and Trini Lopez….they’re just fun. And I’m not beyond enjoying an evening of Austrian folk music or Italian love songs.
I love a good vocal group but I can’t appreciate those that are repetitive in their style,,,like ‘The Beachboys’. Every song sounds like the last, monotonous and predictable, and very dated. Love the Eagles, Little Big Town, Simon and Garfunkel, most Blue Grass groups, and if you play me Latin or Spanish guitar music I’ll follow you anywhere, love those strings.
I guess what I love most about music is its’ ability to take me away. There’s no thought needed, no effort, just close my eyes and float with the melodies. Ok, every now and then I belt out a tune myself but I live on a remote property so there’s no risk of embarrassing myself,,,,although I have on occasion scattered a flock of crows or startled a deer into bolting. (guess they’re not music lovers?) And I can have nothing in common with another except that we both like a certain song or artist and boom, we’re friends. Music has the ability to calm the sole, entertain the mind, and ignite even the most unlikely relationships. It really is the universal language (let it speak to you)
Even as I write this my radio plays in the background and I have to stop periodically to sing along. (Funny, a woman just passed by walking her dog and when I started to sing he started howling….which proves music speaks to all life forms, yes?) Thank heaven for musicians, vocalists and radio transmission….I couldn’t imagine my life without them. (Gotta go croon me a little ditty!)