January 17th, 2011

「Default」Peaceful music.

McService Suck.

My boyfriend and I have become regular night owls due to our afternoon work and have taken to eating out as late as 2am sometimes.

We usually frequent a Mickey D's and last night was no different. We get to the Drive Thru, the cashier greets us and takes our order, and we get to the first window to pay. My boyfriend hands over my card and the girl says...

"Oh. We don't accept Credit Cards."

The hell you don't! We've been there multiple times before at the same hour and have never had problems paying with a card before.

I understand that things break, but unless it broke that very second, why didn't she TELL ME when I was making my order? I know the chance of me having cash is probably 50/50, but on the other hand, I could have a card and she should have told me with her canned "Welcome to McDonald's" speech.

Just a pretty annoying experience overall. We couldn't pay for our meal and had to hop to the next town over to get some food at another McDonald's, but we made sure to ask them if they took plastic before putting in an order, just in case.
kitty lick

Doctor bad_service

NOTE: This gets really long and includes a bit of discussion of organs that might squick some people? It's not much.

The recent post reminded me of my own recent bad service from my old doctor. There were a few incidents, culminating in me having to change doctors so I could get any medical care at all.

First, she prescribed me an albuterol inhaler for my asthma; she had me taking it twice a day, regularly, regardless of whether I had symptoms or not. I have since found out that it's not meant to be taken this way, and that it's why my blood pressure has been high for most of my life; as soon as my new doctor had me use the inhaler properly (only when I was having trouble with my asthma) my blood pressure dropped right down into normal range.

Second, this happened during a checkup, after I had observed a lump on my leg and was a bit worried about it; I wanted to talk to her about it, but she just did the usual checkup then tried to rush out the door. I stopped her:
Me: There's actually something else I wanted you to have a look at?
Her: *turns around but stays in the doorway of the room* yes?
Me: [describes lump, indicates where it is]
Her: Sounds like just a swollen gland. It'll go away in a few months. *leaves*
I expected her to at least look at it or something...? It's still there, BTW. Several years later.

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Green Squiggly

Minor, but still.

My grandmother is sick, she just got home about a month ago from spending two months in the hospital. She's been on prednazone (no idea how to spell that), and it's made her diabetic. Which we discovered after she went to the ER a week and a half ago and spent the rest of the week in the hospital again.

That's not the bad service.

When the doctors prescribed my grandmother's diabetic equipment, they didn't prescribe needles. We were told we'd get a little starter kit with a few needles to start with. Except not. So we had to pay out of pocket for needles. Small because the price was like $1.60-something for a package of 10, but... Uh, if she's taking insulin, shouldn't she also need needles, guise?

Edit Thanks everyone who wishes my Grandmother well.

How About I Break Your Toes?

So, I'm a klutz. A horrible, trips over the air on a flat surface klutz.

Normally I just run into walls, tables, etc. But on Saturday, I decided to be very dumb and I fell down about 10 stairs. (Future reference: Fuzzy socks and slippery old creaky stairs don't mix!) Upon landing, I discovered that I couldn't move my right foot, it was incredibly swollen, and hurt. A lot. For the rest of the day I crankily sat around on the couch with a bag of ice on my foot while Boyfriend played DnD with some friends who were over for that specific reason. One of those friends told us it would be a fantastic idea for me to soak my foot in hot water with Epsom salt, so I did and yay it did make it feel better for a little bit, only then it would get worse so I was in an endless cycle of foot soaking.

The next day, it was still swollen, still hurting, so Boyfriend and I decided to go to the hospital to get it looked at. Numerous sucks by numerous hospital employees followed.

1) I was slowly hopping from the car where Boyfriend parked in front of the ER doors, when a security guard came running over and told us we couldn't leave the car there. Boyfriend said he was helping me get inside and would then park, but seeing as how I couldn't walk he really wanted to stay with me until I could sit. Security guard said that wasn't allowed and that the car had to be moved now, so Boyfriend had to go park while I made my way inside by myself. I asked Security Guard if he could go get me a wheelchair, and he said that no, it wasn't his job.

2) Registration Lady, yes I know that my name is pretty and spelled uniquely and all that. And normally, I love talking about my name and the awesome stories that went into it. But signing in a patient in the ER when they are obviously in pain and obviously can't walk and are having a hard time standing on one foot (still hadn't gotten that wheelchair yet!) is not a good time to talk about names. Getting angry when said patient asks if the registration process could be hurried isn't very nice either.

3) You know those rolly cart things they have in hospital ER rooms? Yeah, I got incredibly acquainted with one when the nurse pushed into into my bad foot. Hard. I don't know what she was thinking, but holy flying goats that hurt. She then got angry with me when I cursed. Um, sorry lady. Next time you mutilate my poor broken foot, I'll start singing happy Broadway musicals, 'kay?

4) I had Boyfriend with me. He and I joke around, insult each other, poke and prod and generally act like 4rd graders who like each other. But Doctor, no, he didn't push me down the stairs, and NO, I AM NOT PREGNANT AND HE DID NOT TRY TO KILL THE NONEXISTENT BABY.

5) X-ray person, it's a good thing that I'm NOT pregnant because you didn't put the heavy drapey thingy over me until half the x-rays were done, and then told me not to tell your boss that you forgot to ask if I was pregnant at the start.

6) After finding out that I hadn't broken my foot as expected, but three toes instead, it was incredibly kind of you nurse, to tell me that I should stop making such a big deal about how much pain I was in. Wow. Awesome bedside manner there.

7) Also, while fitting me for the moon boot thing so I could somewhat walk, giving me the correct size is important. Since my toes are broken, I don't want a shoe that's too small that my toes are hanging out the end of it. That kind of negates the purpose of trying to protect my broken toes, isn't it?

Ugh. It was a pretty crappy hospital visit, and while I realize that broken toes may not be the most important thing in the world, they hurt! The service was overall just crappy and I don't think it was just because I was in pain.