Well, maybe not, but they apparently hate answering the phone and returning calls. Or maybe they’re too busy giving flu shots to their high risk clientele. After all, the name of the practice has the word geriatrics in it. Perhaps it’s a time of geriatric illness? And they’re just swamped? I find it to be kind of ridiculous. I like my doctor, but I’ll be changing if this is what it’s going to be like.
And, apparently, I’ll be calling several times a day trying to get their attention. I don’t like being the squeaky wheel. It’s gone beyond growing as a person at this point, don’t you think? I had no idea that getting a simple form signed by my doctor was going to be this much of a hassle. In fact, some of the things I thought would be a total pain have been easy, and the things I thought would be easy have been downright inconvenient. I will note this for next time.
I know that getting adoption paperwork together has nothing on the physical effects of actually being pregnant and delivering something the size of a watermelon out a very personal area of the body (or, alternatively, getting one’s abdomen sliced open to get the baby out), but I do think I have this in common with some bio moms: once the pregnancy (in our case, the paper pregnancy) is over, I don’t want to think about it again until it’s time to make it happen one more time.
UPDATE: They called me back, and of course the phone didn’t ring. In all my messages, I requested an appointment between 3 and 5, and they gave me an appointment…at noon. NOON. Which is not between 3 and 5, in case you hadn’t figured that one out. Luckily, my friend-turned-personal-notary can go at noon, and the family I work for tomorrow is able to be flexible with the hours they need me. Big props to Jen and to the Whitmans. You’re fantastic!!