There’s an idiotic patient in our office who fails to substantiate his place in this world. It’s one thing to be an illegal who doesn’t know the language and struggle to survive in our country, it’s another when one have the right papers, a possess little bit of American education, and in their mid-30’s.
Even though I get into pissing matches with the patients, I must say, a good number of them are extremely ambitious and successful in trying to make a living. Although most of them evade taxes, you gotta hand it to them, they’re smart. Got no education, got high debt to pay off after being smuggled to the States, and got high hopes for a better life.
Now, occasionally you get an average joe who’s got everything but the brains. This is when I constantly question about how they’ve gone through their life operating this way. The only two answers I’ve managed to come across are – dumb luck & smart spouses.
Because we have so many patients coming in and out of the shop, it’s hard to remember every single one of them. However, there are few with distinct attributes or events which mark them for life.
Back in November, I was working on a Saturday and this retard comes in for well-exam appointment. The patient registration log was backed up and he kept bugging me about ‘punctuality’ because he wanted to be seen next. I got annoyed with him because I had a billion of other things to do, plus a new chart to set up for him. Bloody schmuck.
So when it was his turn, I realized Rich took longer than usual for this physical. Usually in the exam room, there would constant chatter between the doctor and patient, but in this case, there was complete silence (you can always hear stuff through the walls). Hmmm. Strange.
Then, the door opens, Rich asks me for some Mon Cheri chocolates. I thought it was an odd request and handed him 3 of them. Back to the eerie silence.
Fifteen minutes later, he requests for another 3. Okay…now something’s very weird going on because Rich does NOT eat candy – not even if his life depended on it. I thought to myself…DAMN, is he THAT hungry?
Another 10 minutes later, he asks for MORE chocolate. WTF!!!!??
Turns out that the retarded ass was
TERRIFIED of needles and was whimpering for over 40 minutes in the exam room. He couldn’t sit still enough to let Rich stick a needle in him, so the good doctor had him eat chocolates to keep his mind off of his so-called phobia. It got so bad that the idiot’s wife had to be called into the office and calm him down.
Oh my. A grown man who tried to flaunt his edumacated knowledge of the basic English language at me was reduced to a puddle of mush. Tried to play himself off as some manly man with a ‘professional career’ and thought he could challenge me in my own native tongue. Apparently, my Chinese was good enough that he thought I was from Hong Kong.
Stupid chicken shit. If he was so terrified of seeing blood and needles, then he should’ve skipped the damn physical. Furthermore, Rich was using the butterfly needle on him – the least painful tool for withdrawing blood – in fact, it’s mostly used on pediatric patients. BABIES. KIDS.
After the ‘ordeal’ was over, his wife held him up and led him over to an empty seat in our waiting area. He couldn’t walk and his knees were a-knocking. Erm, I thought he had another engagement to attend to? Needed to be seen ON TIME?
All thanks to this schmuck- dammit, my log was now backed up to
TWO hours.
What a memorable day it was for me.
Today, it was quite horrible. I had a splitting headache, the wait time was an average of 3 hours, and I was in no mood for any bullshit. I was in one of those moods where I screamed at a few rowdy children (it appalled their grandparents because they didn't even discipline them) and got into a screaming fight with a patient - another blog.
So in comes our infamous chicken shit. Again, needed to be seen, seen. This time, it was Tinny who he spoke to as I was busy digging out charts. When I turned to the front desk, I realized he was filling out another patient registration form. I barked over, told him to stop, and abruptly yanked the clipboard away. I informed Tinny that he was an insured patient seen in our office and asked him to come back in 2 hours.
I asked her why he was filling out the forms again. Instead of producing his insurance card to the front desk, all he did was announce how he needed his forms to be filled out by the doctor. When she asked him if he had any health insurance, his reply was, “Here, here.”
Hah?
Here? When did I start marketing insurance of any kind? No, he didn’t say that he has been seen in our office before or forgot his insurance information. Mr. I-Know-English-And-I-Wanna-Show-Off-My-Insignificant-Ability couldn’t even tell her that he had Fidelis insurance either in bwoken English or in Chinese.
2 ½ hours later, he reappears in our office with his wife. Goes to show you that she thinks he’s incompetent and needs to accompany him to get something accomplished.
Oy.
