You all rock, in a big way. (And the one knitting a prayer? You know who you are. You are a blessing.) And a whole bunch of you expressed indignance and/or shock that Mom’s still with this particular doctor. The best I can do is directly quote Em’s comment, who was spot-on:
“I have no idea what’s wrong with you”? “I can’t help you”? Are you sure she’s a doctor? Is there a place to register some sort of legal complaint against this woman? Because I assume that the reason little mama hasn’t switched doctors is due to the way our nation’s health care is set up, and this is all entangled with insurance, which then means maybe that complaints won’t do anything. Still, it’s bullshit. Bullshit. Thank god the ER people know their jobs and helped her.
That’s exactly it. The way she’s locked into this particular health plan means she HAS to see this terror of a doctor. It’s a small area, and the only other doctor that’s possibly available to her apparently works in a migrant-health clinic, and Mom hasn’t had any luck tracking him down. But I’m pleased to say that she saw the nurse yesterday, who was great and helpful and smart. The little mama swears she’ll never see That Doctor again, not if she can help it. She’s going with the nurse, all the way. Yeah.
I know I had more things to write about but now I can’t think of them. This is why you shouldn’t put off blogging because you’re comfy on the couch and don’t want to reach for the computer. And damn it, I’m just now remembering that I left some feta/spinach pizza in my fridge that was supposed to be lunch. What that means is I’m fishing in my brain for the Forgotten Things and coming up with the wrong ones. Shoot.
One thing I remember. Go see Marcia. She summed it all up in her Wednesday post.
And I’m going to write today. Really write. Okay? Hold me to it. I’m back in the saddle.
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