A Morning in the Life of a Very Frustrated Mother

Right now I am on the phone with my doctor's office to make an appointment. So far I have heard an folksy remake of Sting's Fields of Barley, a possible Steely Dan song about Daddy don't live in New York City no more (sic), and now, some sort of elevator music.

If I am going to be left on hold for hours at a time, here are a few things I would like to hear:

Dane Cook's comedy bit on Kool Aid (Oh yeah? Oh no!)
Yael Naim
The new song by Ne-Yo, the one from the Overstock.com commercial
Fiona Apple

Seriously, who likes elevator music? Is it supposed to be calming? Several times the phone has sounded like someone was picking up--music pauses, office-y typing sounds in the background. But then, more elevator music. I've missed two calls from my mother while waiting this morning. Tyler is wondering what to do for school (just READ, okay, read a book, this is a literature based curriculum so there's no way you can go wrong by READING).

The elevator music has faded away, and now there is jazzy piano. (vomit in mouth) I am not kidding about the Dane Cook. It would put me in a good mood for when the rude scheduling people arbitrarily withhold health care from my child because it's the only power they wield in their minimum wage existence.

Okay, that was mean. I'm sorry.

Can it be? A person! Oops, I was sent to wrong place, I guess. She's transferring me to where I should be. Back to jazzy piano. Okay, another person already, that was fast. And when I try to make an appointment, this is what I get.

"He'll be in tomorrow, but he's full. Beyond that, I just don't know... Can you make an appointment with another doctor?"

When I explain, umm, NO, and ask if I can call back for an appointment with my own doctor, she says...

"You can try. I mean, I don't know when he'll be in or when he'll get his schedule. "

I can try? How kind of you. When can I try? I mean, last Monday you told me to try today. And since when do people try to make doctor's appointments? It is really simple, right? Like trying to jump, trying to blog. You just do it. I pick up the phone and call you, you check his schedule and put me in a slot, not so hard. Why don't you have his schedule anyway, you're his scheduling lady?

Don't worry, I didn't say that.

"Tomorrow, maybe later in the day? Maybe. I'm not guaranteeing it. I'm sorry."

At least she's sorry. The last scheduling lady was never sorry. She acted like I had done something wrong. I told you to call when we opened, and now it's 8:27. Of course I can't give you an appointment now.

Well, now you have witnessed in real time (kinda) a morning in my life. My doctor has told me that when this happens, I should ask to talk to his medical assistant and that she can usually fit me in. But his medical assistant is apparently not aware of this recommendation. She is always a little confused about why I am talking to her and not his scheduling girl. I save the MA trick for emergencies, for times when we honestly will be in the emergency room if the sitch isn't dealt with and soon. So I'll be calling back tomorrow. This only took 27 minutes of my morning.