Tuesday, December 20, 2005

The Penultimate Doctors Visit

Yesterday was my second to last visit to the OB/GYN pre-baby birthing. We are now less than two weeks from our son's birthday. Yay, and EEK!

My appointment was set for 2:45 pm. I showed up at 2:35 pm. I left Elizabeth with her Aunt Amy, she went Christmas shopping and to the video store.
Meanwhile, I sat in the doctor's waiting room with about 20 other people.
For some reason, people like to bring their whole family to their doctor's appointments. I am pretty sure I was one of very few patients who was there solo.

Another woman who has arrived solo sits in the chair in front of me and strikes up a conversation with someone who is a distant acquaintance of hers. I know that they are not close because he asks her halfway through the conversation what her first name is. It's Karen, for those keeping track.

Karen, for some reason, wants to talk about her painful drawn out divorce proceedings, the affect they are having on her children and her finances and her soon to be ex-husbands new girlfriend. Her name is Taren. Ironic?
Karen's distant acquaintance, who we come to learn only knows of her because she contracts work through his place of employment (so not only are they not close friends, they are sort of co-workers), is less than interested in pursuing this conversation with the behemoth that is Karen, yet, Karen lacks social skills or plain doesn't care about other people's discomfort, and rattles on.

At about 3:15 pm another train wreck comes into the waiting room. This woman is probably around 35 years old, looks 65, and that equals meth addict. She is toting a small child, a girl. This "mother" is disheveled, her clothes are dirty, her purse is from 1982, her hair is not combed and is trying to jump off of her head. Her child didn't fare any better. She's wearing pigtails that look like they were fixed five days before and she's been sleeping in the hairstyle ever since. Her clothes are also dirty, and her hair is one big knot. They both look like they have fleas.
It makes me very sad. The mother spends her first 15 minutes at the office in the bathroom. Hmm. I wonder. How puzzling.

After the alleged nose powdering, she emerges and sits on the chairs recently vacated by Karen's hostages, er, acquaintances. Karen is checking her voice mail on her cellular phone, presumably to see if anyone she called to bitch about her divorce has called her back. I assume not.

At one point I sniffle, and Fleas snaps her head over to look at me. Perhaps she thought I was a kindred spirit in speed. I am not.

They FINALLY call my name. I jump up like a flea off a dead dog. Unfortunately, there was another Jessica in the office, and they meant HER not ME! Argh! At least I got to move my seat away from Karen, who was busily trying to make eye contact with me to restart her story, and Fleas and Fleas Junior.

At 3:45 pm, the nurse finally calls MY name and we adjourn to the examination room.
By 3:55, my blood pressure is taken, my pee has been examined, and I've heard the baby's heartbeat. All good.
I have to get partially nudie for this appointment so the nurse leaves to give me privacy. By 4:07 pm I have been examined by the doctor and he has also left, wishing me a Merry Christmas on his way out.

It takes me longer to put my shoes back on than it did for my OB to examine me.

During that examination he sees my C-section scar and actually asks me, for the 100th time, oh, you're having a C-section? Uh, duh! This is the man who will be cutting me open and removing another person from my person.
He also asked me AGAIN if I wanted a tubal ligation. This is the third time I've been asked that. Going into my surgery, I better pin a note to my crotch that says "Please, don't sterilize me!"

My confidence is slipping.

At least it's all almost over. 13 days.


Freebird said...

Doctors can be airheads, but I think it's cause they're so busy. When I was in the hospital, I had my remaining fallopian tube ligated and it seemed like every time I talked to doctor he kept offering me birth control pills. Hellooo?

Jessey said...

My doc is definitely too busy. There are TWO OBs in our area, down from eight last year.
So, it's a big patient load for two doctors obviously. But come on! My chart is RIGHT THERE! You're touching it! Just open it and read it!

cube said...

Kewll. I'm so excited for you! BTW that was my word verification... kewll.

Jessey said...

I forgot the funniest part of the story...Karen the divorcee (who I know more about than I really should!) prefaced her very long story about her divorce with the caveat that she is against gossip, and always has been, and wouldn't ever engage in a "gossip circle"...unless I guess, you know, she's gossiping about herself, her ex and her own kids, all of which she did plenty of.
Damn hypocrites.

Freebird said...

I hate hypocrites and that's why I stay away from church. HA!

Amy said...

I don't think it's gossiping if you talk about yourself or your family. Then it is just bitching and moaning, which is a birthright.

Jessey said...

I can SORT of see the angle that you can talk about yourself...however...there is a limit to the amount of shit you can talk about your loved ones to a practical stranger in earshot of many other total strangers.

People need to vent, and I get that, but yikes, poor choice of venue!

cube said...

Of course,then there's blogging ;-)

Jessey said...

True, true.
I don't know though. We live in a pretty small community, lots of interconnected folks. I don't know that slinging your family business in the public square is good for that sort of environment.
As I am living proof. The walls have ears.
Then again, I have eavesdropped many interesting things that have turned into newspaper stories, so...it's really a quandary for me.

Jessey said...

Just to prove what a small world it is up here, I saw Karen again today. This time at Safeway.
She wasn't talking to anyone, just shopping, but she had a baby with her so maybe they were chatting. A small hostage to unload the weight of the world upon, no doubt.