Ah, borderline rage

My appointment yesterday with the pdoc didn't go smoothly, in fact it brought out the borderline in me big time. First I get there and they tell me I need to fill out all the paperwork as if I were a new patient. So I went off on the poor receptionist, not knowing my regular pdoc is right around the corner listening. I asked why would I need to refill out all the paperwork when I'm currently a patient in their office and already have a chart. Why wouldn't they keep all my medical records in one file rather than making a new file simply because I was having a consult with someone else. I went on to bash their system because not only did it create additional headaches for whoever handles their files, if I have to request medical records, I will have to always remember to list every person I've ever seen there because each record will be in a different file. How fucking retarded is that?!?

As I sit down to waste my time filling out paperwork, I hear my pdoc asking why I had to fill it out, seemingly just as puzzled as I was but a heck of a lot more calm about it. He apologized for my behaviour which pissed me off even more but I held my tongue. I can't remember if he's ever been witness to one of my outbursts before, so maybe he was a little taken aback by how nasty I can be.

Right as I'm done with the paperwork, the pdoc calls me in. At first I ignored him cuz he called me Cindy. I fucking hate when people call me that, especially when they have my name right in front of them. This guy was old, sick and incredibly unorganized. I would not want to have him as my regular pdoc. Just in the 45 mins I met with him I almost tore him a new asshole twice.

He spent the first 5 mins searching all over his desk and bookshelf for the paperwork to discuss the procedure. I almost asked if we should reschedule since he apparently wasn't prepared for our meeting. Then his pager goes off and without even saying excuse me, he picks up the phone & returns the call. I let that slide because I could tell he was calling the acute psych unit at the hospital. But then about 10 minutes later his cellphone rings. From his response to the person, I assume it was his wife, girlfriend or some other insignificant person that he could have let go into his damn fucking voice mail and he could have called them back.

So I finally ask in a very pissed off tone "Are you here with me? Because you seem distracted by all this other stuff and your lack of organization. We can always reschedule when you actually have time to meet with me and I can have your full attention since I'm the one paying you." He didn't like that and gave me this look like "how dare you talk to me that way". Oh fucking well. He was pissing me off and I had to say something.

Then he starts asking me all these questions like what meds I've been on (my reply...it's in my chart which I thought you would have looked at, but oh wait...your stupid office requires a new chart for each dr someone sees so maybe you wouldn't have had the fore thought to even look at that chart that's been compiling since I first saw my pdoc in 2003). More questions which would have been in my other chart....have I ever been hospitalized, have I ever made a suicide attempt, how long have I been depressed, when did I first receive treatment for my depression, etc.

I was more than a little irritated (ok, he had completely pissed me off), so I got my final dig in when he asked if I had any OCD tendencies. I said yeah, I need my desk to be organized so I can find things when I need them or I panic. I even have problems when (looking straight into his eyes) OTHER people's desks aren't organized. I think he was a little too old and a little too out there to realize I was insulting him. I couldn't wait to get out of there. Though that took awhile because the bastard couldn't find the invoice for my visit in the mess on his desk.

As I was leaving I left a message for my regular pdoc to call me. 1) because I want to know if he had a discussion with this other guy and 2) because of the insistence of the therapist that I get back on something for my anxiety. He hasn't called me yet, but I know last time he didn't call til nearly 5 pm. If he doesn't call I'm going to lose it.

Ah, borderline rage can be a bitch to deal with and it takes forever to go away. Sometimes I feel sorry for the innocent people that end up on the receiving end of that rage and I probably should apologize, sometimes I can calm myself down enough to do so. But then there are those that deserve whatever I dish out, despite how cruel and unforgiving I can be.

The #1 trigger for my rage? It's a tie between incompetency and disorganization.