Bedside Manner

Dear Coverage Doctor in my PCP’s Urgent Care Office:

How’s that coffee that you went to get right at the time of my appointment with you? Hope it’s good. So, yeah– I came in because this yucky bruise on my leg has spread all the way to my toes, it hurts every step I take, and my ankle gets so swollen in the afternoon that I can’t bend it. Yes, I know ankles swell as the day progresses– but I can usually still bend them. RICE? Really? I’d never heard of that. I’ve just been resting, icing, compressing and elevating– you must not have heard me when I told you that before.

So basically, let’s see– you could care less that my knee’s twisted, and you’re not alarmed by my elephant ankle. You could also care less about punctuality. And your blase attitude sucks. Clearly, that Ph.D. after your name wasn’t for mastering common courtesy or bedside manner. And my dentist just gave me better medical advice than you did. Seeing that you’re getting paid to see patients, I suggest you pretend to care a little more, and act a little less like your time’s worthwhile.

Hope you stub your toe and no one cares,

(I did twit him on the coffee at the end, after he didn’t apologize for starting late. I asked him how his coffee was, and he looked confused. I said, oh, the coffee you went out to get at 8:20, when my appointment was supposed to start. He did look embarrassed to have been caught, but he still didn’t apologize. Jackass. The receptionist, within hearing distance, thought it was funny, though.)


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