Ok, so 72 hours military was previously defined as from the 21st of one month until the 17th of the next.
We can now stretch that to the 21st of one month to the 23rd of the next.
All hail the mighty military medical machine.
I arrived all spiffy and in proper hygienic orientation 25 minutes early for my 1:50 appointment with my never-seen-before regular doctor, ready to be told that my innards are about to implode and I need to have my gut split open and parts interred removed. Not only was I ready, I was looking forward to it. Let’s get this sucker taken care of!
So I walked up to the check-in desk, presented my ID card and informed the clerk I had a 1:50 appointment with Dr. New-Doc, and he looked at the computer, frowned, and said, “There’s no appointment scheduled for today.”
Oh hell no.
He looked again. “Dr. New-Doc isn’t even in the clinic today,” he mumbled as he looked again. “Who made the appointment for you?”
I gave him the short version; he got on the phone to call the on-duty tech locked behind the heavy metal doors, and explained. While he waited for an answer—she was going to find out what was going on—we were instructed to sit down and wait.
So we complied. Both the Spouse Thingy and I were sputtering and muttering and surely both had spiking blood pressure, but we sat down to wait. While we waited we grumbled about the direction military medicine is going these days, and mused over shifting our care to a civilian doctor, because frankly, my trust in the base hospital is waning.
As we waited, other people arrived to check in. Guy #2 stepped up and presented himself for an appointment that didn’t exist. He rescheduled. Elderly Guy #3 stepped up and presented his even more elderly father’s ID for an appointment that didn’t exist. He didn’t go away. He, too wanted an explanation, and for his father to be seen by someone.
I’m pretty sure they arranged for another doc to see him; I got the impression he needed to be seen today and would do best if not dragged off to the ER.
After 2 previous cancellations that were not my choice, I did not see Dr. New-Doc today. Supposedly I will see Dr. New-Doc next Monday.
We’ll never really know what happened to the appointment, other than the presumption that some med tech—whom we only know as being female, and idiot me didn’t get her name—screwed up royally and scheduled people for appointment times that weren’t available.
When they find her—and they want to know who she is—she is so screwed.
So. I did not see a doc and I still can’t have a freaking French fry!