Waiting

Why is it that when I really don't have the time to wait, everyone and everything around me goes at a turtle's pace? But when I have all the time and freedom in the world, things fly at an alarming rate? Let me explain.

My eye doctor has one of the least efficient offices I've ever frequented. It drives me crazy. The only reason I stay with them is I only have to go to them once per year and they are close to my home. Oh, and every time I mention how much I don't like their office, I get a look from Michael that says, "Aims, you don't like any doctor. No one is perfect. Just suck it up and deal with it." And to be fair, he is right. So I've sucked it up and I am dealing with it.

So a couple of weeks back I had to get in for an eye exam. I went in for an 11:00 appointment with both children in tow. I'll spare you all the frustrating antics of a child either squirming to get out of the stroller, or attempting to tear up magazines. I'll even spare you having to read about the crying, fussing and wailing that ensued when I stopped any of the "fun" activities my children invented that were definitely on the "No, No" list. Instead I want to focus on the time line.

I arrived at 10:55. Again, my appointment was at 11:00. At 11:25 I was finally called back for the first phase of treatment. You know, the part where they shoot air in your eyes and make you look at the little red barn off on the horizon? It was lots of fun to focus on the letter chart across the room while at the same time trying to keep my 16 month old from racing back out to the lobby to play with the large selection of sample glasses.

We finish phase 1 at 11:35 and I am ushered back to the back of the office (to another waiting room) to wait for phase 2

Phase 2 is where they escort me and my two little darlings into the doctor's office where I sit on the exam chair (which, by the way, is equipped with a massage feature--I guess they know how long they plan on making you wait). Here I wait until 12:20. Yes, TWELVE TWENTY, until the doctor finally manages to grace me with his presence. If you haven't kept track, that is almost an entire hour from the end of phase 1. Keep in mind that I am still doing my best to wrangle two small children who are now WAY past their lunch time and are getting quite cranky.

I finally manage to leave the office at 1:15 (after finishing phase 3--picking out glasses and ordering contact lenses) and my children are delirious with hunger and exhaustion. As am I.

That brings me to today. Today was recheck day. I was to go into the office to see if the sample lenses they gave me were working so they could order the year's supply that cost me an arm and a leg. And by the way, today is Saturday. What that means for me is daddy gets to stay home with the younglings while I go to the doctor's office alone. I must tell you that I am quite giddy about this. I have my coffee and book in hand and am prepared to wait. Oh baby am I ready to wait. Pleeeeeeeeease let this be a long wait. No children? Dude, you can let everyone go ahead of me.

Turns out? Today was efficiency day. I have never, EVER gotten out of there so fast. I barely sat in waiting room #1 before I was being called to the back. I didn't even get to open my book. And forget waiting room number 2. No need for that when the doctor is already ready to see me in his office. I didn't even get to try out the massage chair. Don't they know that doctor's visits without children in tow are now the equivalent to spa treatments in my world? My appointment was at 9:15 and I was getting back in my car at 9:32.

Now I realize that this was just a recheck appointment and one should expect it to be quick. But I am here to tell you that even past recheck visits have taken at least an hour at this joint. I got robbed today people. ROBBED! I want my wait time and I want it now!

Oh well, I am sure they will make it up to me with extra wait time on my next visit. Which rest assured will include two screaming children.