My day as a pogo stick

The down part: As I mentioned in the comments of an earlier posting, it turns out that my sickness was not just a cold but rather strep throat. My doctor already had me on antibiotics, but added two more days worth. The nurse who called also said that Angela needed to get a throat culture. I mentioned that my doctor was also her primary care person, so she said, great, it should take no longer than 5 minutes or so.

Ha. Should have known better.

The day started going south when I went to pick up my prescription and it wasn't there. In theory, it had been called in two days prior. The pharmacist called my doctor's office and we waited. They put her on hold forever. I heard her spell my name four times. Finally, she put me on the phone with the receptionist, who said, "Are you sure you got a prescription from us, Mr. Middleton?" Then I spelled the name. Then I hear someone in the background say, "Oh, wait -- yes, I remember him." I mention that I'm bringing my wife into the office anyway. What should have taken about 4 minutes at the pharmacist has taken about a half hour.

We drive to the doctor's office. I should say this about my doctor: I chose him because he was close and he was on my insurance plan; quite frankly, I just picked him out of a list. He's OK, but nothing special -- and indeed, when he prescribed the generic Robotussin w/codeine for my cough, I thought that unusual since I told him that I was only coughing when it was productive. His office staff, however, I've always found a little off.

Today was outrageous. The receptionist was, in my opinion, a word that should not be used on a family blog. Rude, self-important and very unhelpful. It turns out that Angela needs to be seen by the doctor, not just have the throat culture. By this point, I'm seeing various shades of red and I demand to see the head nurse. Instead of calming me down (which would have been fairly easy -- I've been in situations where I have to calm unreasonable people down), she makes it her business to show how she's right.

By the time Angela walked out after waiting for a good while without still having been seen, we had both already decided that we need a new primary care physician. And this time, we're doing what we did when we had to look for a pediatrician: ask for advice first.

How the day got better: For my shorts class, I was looking for serials. It turns out that Georgetown has a fairly extensive collection on VHS; when I went to our library on Monday to try to get a copy to screen, however, I found that it would not arrive in time for today's screening. My only hope was to try to find something at a local video store. I had already called my local store in Takoma Park which, oddly, had nothing.

Fortunately, I happen upon Potomac Video on Connecticut Avenue and quickly perused their shelves, whereupon I find an old copy of King of the Rocket Men. Upon viewing the whole series (mostly in fast forward due to time constraints) to find the right episode to screen, I discover that not only is this hysterically bad (and therefore perfect for class) but also features in the lead roles a group of... PHYSICS PROFESSORS! These professors, by the way, do very little actual phsyics-ing and a lot of punching and gun-shooting and flying with a ridiculous atomic flying suit. Believe it or not, this is actually useful for a minor research topic I've been floating around (thanks to Dr. Dr. Kaiser, a.k.a. he who now has a doctorate for each one of his adorable twin babies). Plus, this made me giggle tremendously while watching it. Completely unexpected, the serial tickled me greatly -- and it went over really well in class, too! Hooray!

(Preview for tomorrow: My sister-in-law is in town! Let's see what happens as she becomes the first family member from Peru to meet the little boy...)