Mindy M. Thornley, MD

Do you know what that little MD stands for?

Try Doctor of Medicine.

... Which makes you think it should be DM.

But that is beside the point.

I went to the local Instacare yesterday for angry Mr. Achilles.

First off, the waiting room was hecka full. I estimated about four kjillion people there.

After giving the receptionist my name and ailment "pain in Achilles" {I didn't think this would be the appropriate place to diagnosis myself ... which may or may not hint to you that I had every intention of diagnosing myself at some point in this process} I sat down in one of the chairs. Carefully planning out not to sit next to anyone. It's an instacare, people! Full of bonefide sickies {which, clearly I was not}.

I pull out my new smart phone {one guess on what color it is} and decide to check email, play on Facebook, you know - the works. Perplexed is what I was when I wasn't able to acquire internet access at all. I then happen to see a sign that read, "To serve you better we ask that you refrain from cellphone useage during your office visit."

While those were the actual words on the sign, I read it as, "Playing with your cellphone while you wait for upteen billion hours sounds like fun for you, which is the last thing a visit to the doctor should be, so we have disabled all internet connection in our building."


It was about at this point that a new sickie came in and sat super close to me. Ew. Her body was lounging limply on the chair with her head turned in my general direction. I repeat: ew, while thinking, "Please don't breath on me. Please don't breath on me."

Not gonna lie, it was at this point that I moved over a chair.

As I sat and waited I observed.

And I saw a woman who looked like she was wearing a bullet proof vest.

And I couldn't help but notice a tragedy of all tragedies: people who arrived after I did were getting called back to the exam rooms before me.

First person: was a stealth and healthy looking man who had a t-shirt that said USU Track & Field on it. Pff. Fine. Although, it did make me think that retired USU athletes should still get special privileges. Hey, it's hard to get them and then be stripped of them, okay?

Second person: a teenage girl who was laughing with her mom while waiting. She clearly did not need to go before me.

Third person: Okay, okay ... this woman was arguably 100-years-old and looked like she was dying. I suppose she can go in front of me.

Fourth: the woman who was breathing on me. Ew. Fine, send her and her contaminated air away from me.

Lesson learned: ailment is clearly takes priority over pain. Buuut, I should have realized this two years ago {which was the last time I was at instacare, also for angry Mr. Achilles} when I saw a man with shards of metal in his hand wait longer than anyone else in the room, including myself. I did say to the nurse that day, "Uh, this guy can take my turn, he looks like he needs some assistance." My offer was rejected and so shard-metal-hand-man continued to wait.

But that's me going off on a tangent ...

When they finally do call me in to the back and I enter the triage room, I may have accidentally audibly said, "Ew. I forgot about this."

The nurse was still pleasant and asked me to get on the scale, which I promptly respond, "I don't like seeing how much I weigh."

"Okay, hon. I will make sure that doesn't happen."

Heart rate taken? Check.

Blood pressure? Check.

Temperature? Check.

These are all clearly very vital things to do when I have pain in my Achilles, no? Vital. To take vitals. Har har har.

I finally was led to an exam room. Boredom ensued.

Two hours after I had originally arrived this went down:

Doctor enters.

Doc: So, you are experiencing some pain in your Achilles?

Mindy: Yes, it's tendinitis and only hurts when I run. And I will be honest, I am irritated that it's irritated.

Doc: Have you had this before?

Mindy: Yes, about two years ago.

Doc: And what do you do for it?

Mindy: I heat it before I run. Ice it after. And last time I was given an anti-inflammatory topical that is made at the compound pharmacy in Smithfield.

Doc: And that worked?

Mindy: Yes. I loved it.

Doc: Would you like that again?

Mindy: Yes, I would.

Doc: Okay, let me go get that prescription in.

Doctor exits.

Doctor returns about 67 seconds later. Hands me a sheet of paper.

Him: Here are some stretches you can do, but you probably already do them.

Mindy: Yes, yes I do. But this paper is fancy and I will enjoy reading it. Thank you.

So, this massive post exists today to tell you this: Yesterday, for a mere 20 dollah, I got to spend two hours in the instacare. Two of those minutes were actually spent with the physician, where I diagnosed myself and prescribed my own medication.

It was wonderful.


Dan and Laura said...

You are so smart! Well done! Hope the cream helps.

Avree said...

Do you have a PCP? You probably could have called and talked to one of the nurses and they would get the doctor to call in a prescription. I hope your achilles gets feeling better!

Lissa Clair said...

not gonna lie, i just laughed out loud. i hate waiting at the doctor's office and you described it perfectly!

DeeAura said...

HA! I don't know why I've never written about this, but the one time I ever went to the Instacare, I spent an appropriate amount of time waiting (because we all know you shouldn't be able to just walk in to a doctor's office...) I went in and had all my vitals checked as well (did I mention I went in for my knee after slamming it into an icy mountain? okay. not necessary to weight me or take my temperature...I think...) and he basically just moved my leg in every direction possible, hit on me a half dozen times (I checked, he was wearing a CTR ring on his left hand. Am I in Provo? Yes.) then prescribed me stuff for the pain, and gave me official permission to go snowboarding again.

I guess for $30 I got peace of mind and the knowledge that if I am ever without a date on a Friday night and desire the company of ctr-wearing, instacare doctor with slightly crooked teeth...I know where to go.

This makes me sound like I have a date every friday night. hahah. oh man I'm funny.

But this is a comment on your blog and not an actual post on mine.


Erica said...

Hope your achilles (is that you how spell that? Hmm) starts feeling better soon. No fun. But I did very much enjoy reading about your visit.

Meg said...

I love that you diagnosed yourself and told him what you wanted prescribed. Doctor's visits are SO fun. I've been to a lot of them lately. Granted, I am pregnant. But still, I get to wait for hours just to let them listen to the heartbeat when I know the baby is fine because IT NEVER STOPS MOVING. I do get a little frustrated sometimes.

My worst experience, though, was when I broke my hand. New in town, I went to the ER because I didn't know where else to go. They x-rayed, told me it was broken, gave me a brace, and said to go to the bone doc. What a waste of time. After an excessively long wait (which seems to be mandatory in all doctor's offices) I had the doctor look at the x-ray from the ER, tell me again that my hand was broken, tell me to keep wearing the brace for six weeks and not to bother coming back. I really had a hard time paying the $50 they asked for that two minutes where I learned nothing new. I didn't even get a prescription out of it. :)

Shea said...

Love you!

Katie said...

HAHAHA!! Oh boy. He better have given you a million refills...or ELSE!

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