First impressions are everything, and I should have known better.
Today. I broke up with my Primary Care Physician. I've had it. Tomorrow, is a new beginning with a younger doctor...hopefully with a skip in her step and stars in her eyes...Hopefully one who can make a decision in my best interest, because, after all she's the one with the medical degree.
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Top reasons why it had to end:
the FRONT DESK LADY
I wish you guys could see a video of this lady in action. She's loud. She's obnoxious. She's rude. She narrates EVERYTHING that she types into her little outdated computer. She SHOUTS your most private information to you, even though you are standing 18 inches away from her greasy face...in a waiting room the size of a shoebox. She's there 40 hours a week. Monday through Friday.
it's 2011, RIGHT???
I think I'm going to have a new rule...for my new Doctor. My personal home office printer, can NOT be nicer than the one in your practice. PERIOD. NO EXCEPTIONS. The only thing my printer does is print up maps for directions, and I barely do that anymore. Every time I went to the Dr. I felt like Marty Mcfly was going to be in the waiting room with me.
Wait...aren't YOU the Doctor?
Dear Future Primary Care Physician:
I have a measly Bachelor's degree for Christ's sakes, don't ask me what I want to do. Thank you for taking my feelings into consideration, but my medical education/training is all owed to Dr. Google. So please, lets use the money you spent on your education, and the money I've spent on health insurance, and lets have YOU, the Dr. make the educated decisions from here on out. At least make me feel like you're working for the money.
I also ask that you take me seriously when I say I'm experiencing side effects. Especially when they are the ones that are listed on the little paper that says "call your Dr. immediately if you experience the follwoing". I'll have you know, I'm an excellent direction follower. I feel like my requests are simple, and I look forward to figuring out my damn thyroid with you.
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So the end of an era. (Very shortlived) I'm done with Dr. Old School, and I'm hopefully moving on to a doctor (and front desk lady-fingers tightly crossed) that I can be happy with.



