His Name Might As Well Be Dr. Quack

It has been a helluva day.

I woke up at dialysis this morning, to post nasal drip. That almost always starts with a cough, progresses to a sore throat and stuffy nose and ends with Tonsilitis. Yay.

Got home. Started brushing my teeth. Looked down in the sink and it looked like a CSI crime scene. My arm gets wrapped after dialysis and I usually cover it, shower and head to work.

No, this morning I had to take off my dressing, rewrap it and change clothes-with one hand.

My kids get queasy, but my youngest did tear tape for me.

While I'm sanitizing the sink, he comes back in and tells me his skateboard injury from days before, is getting worse.

So I make an appointment to see the Dr. mid-morning.

I take him to school. I go to work.

I take him to his appointment and she concludes with a sports hernia. Basically stay off the skateboard and light activity til Monday. Cool.

I take him home before taking him back to school. He sits down to eat lunch, then goes to stand and he can't stand up straight without pain. I tell him to just stay home and I go back to work, calling the Dr. on the way.

They call me back about 30 minutes after I get to work and want me to take him to the ER for xrays.

Out of habit, I go to the hospital my old insurance required me to go to. I regret it almost immediately, but he's already registered. This is around 2..

He finally gets into sono at 6!! Freakin' ridiculous!

I almost left and went to an express care, but I wasn't sure if my insurance would pay for both, so I stayed.

The Dr. was annoying. He kept asking the exact same questions, repeatedly. My son even got annoyed and he makes it a point to annoy everyone as much as he can. Almost like a drunk or high mofo.

Well after the sonogram shows no hernia, is when he repeatedly asked where it hurt? When did it start? How was his pee?

After coming to NO CONCLUSION and asking how painful it was (my son said since he'd been laying down, only when they poked him) this mofo writes my son a script for coedine. FOR WHAT?

After scratching his head for the better part of 20 minutes, he said, I'd like to do a CT Scan. We'll shoot him with a dye and we can rule out appendicitis. Hold up! How'd we go from nothing to this? He says it could be in the very, very early stages.

Well at this point, I don't trust him and don't at all like how he's pushing this on me.

I decline. Then he says these words: "I understand that traditionally, your culture teaches boys to be tough and your son is probably in more pain than he's saying."

ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!?! DID YOU REALLY JUST SAY THAT SHIT TO ME? In my head, I'm thinking of the higher ups that I know personally, that run that ER and when I will see them to tell them this shit. I cut him off and ask if I need to sign something to decline treatment, so I can get the hell out.

We finally walk in the door at 9 pm on the dot. I am sick and tired of the hospital!