The Perfect New York City Doctor
I think everyone in New York City must be on the quest for the perfect doctor. Once you nab one, it is of utmost importance that you hold this information close to your heart and hope against hope that your perfect doctor doesn't get overloaded with patients. Once the perfect doctor gets outed, it's like a stampede. You would be lucky to get an appointment within three months. If you are one of the precious few that have always had access to the fabled perfect doctor, I hate you (but will love you again if you would forward me their information). It typically takes a series of wrong prescriptions, time spent waiting on the phone, unnecessary procedures and "oops! I'm sorry I made a mistake" doctors to find the right one. If you have found "the one", remember to properly appreciate your doctor!
I recently underwent a frantic search for a good OB/GYN as my previous perfect wonderful OBGYN retired. She was my mother's longtime buddy back in the day when my parents first immigrated to New York City. She was considerate, helpful, gave me free prescription sample medications and was very discreet. So wonderful that she successfully battled my mother into submission on OB/GYN visits when I was a teenager. My mother is a very nosy person and loves to be in the room with me wherever I go. Just imagine trying to convince your mom that you seriously do not need her in the bathroom stall with you when you really need to go! My OB/GYN would physically push my mother outside the room and lock the door. Of course, my mother would be pounding on the door trying to get in but my OB/GYN was probably the only doctor in the world who could keep her out and have it not affect her performance. *Sniff* I loved my doctor.
But one sad day she retired and referred me to another doctor. As I really trusted her advice, I immediately put the referral information in my Contacts and set up an appointment with the new doctor. I have now learned never to trust referrals from doctors. I had a hard time understanding my new OB/GYN as English was his second language. His nurses also had a difficult time understanding him and would frequently ask him to repeat himself. I was uncomfortable having a male OB/GYN but I trusted my previous doctor enough to try this new one out. Within a year of having this new doctor, I underwent unnecessary surgery, was assigned wrong prescriptions and was scheduled for appointments with the doctor when he was away on vacation. He also never called me back with the results of any of my tests. Granted, some of these problems were due to the administrative office but I really believe that a competent doctor would also keep a tight check on administrative issues like making sure that there are no appointments on the schedule before going away on vacation! I also think a doctor should call you regardless of whether the tests are positive or negative to at least let you know.
I recently found a new OB/GYN and she confirmed my suspicions about my previous doctor. I am now contemplating whether I should report my old doctor but I don't know if my accusations would be serious enough to warrant an investigation. It would also be a huge pain in the ass. So, I will most likely just move on with my life.
But I am so happy that I have now built up my personal arsenal of great doctors and a wonderful dentist. Still searching for the right oral surgeon. Have any tips? I need to get my wisdom teeth out! I went to an oral surgeon at the recommendation of my dentist (never trust professional recommendations!) and had a horrible experience. I'm not sure if it was because extracting wisdom teeth is in general a horrible experience or if the oral surgeon sucked. I requested general anesthesia instead of the local anesthesia because I wanted to be knocked out when they took those suckers out. I only asked for the left side to be taken out as I would be going to Russia shortly afterwards and I needed at least one decent side of the mouth to chew with and I was uncertain as to how to say - can you grind that food up into a pulp for me and pour it in my mouth - in Russian. I guess I could have survived on caviar and vodka but that would be a different story.
All I know is that the oral surgeon immediately began to attack my mouth while I was awake. I counted to ten and looked around for that mask they put on your face to put you to sleep. But I couldn't find the mask anywhere in my peripheral vision. As I was freaked out at this point, I started waving my arms and making ARGHHHH! noises and trying to get out of the chair. Finally, the oral surgeon stopped poking around my mouth and I explained that I requested general anesthesia. Then he put me under and knocked me out with whatever gas they use to knock you out. I still suspect he charged me for the local anesthesia as well as the general, bastard!
The beauty of general anesthesia is that you feel nothing. You also have no perception of time. It feels like you went to sleep and woke up immediately 3 minutes afterwards. Then you start to wonder why the clock is 3 hours ahead and what you are doing with a bloodstained napkin and why you are so groggy. I would imagine Roofies would feel the same way. Anyways, I was picked up by my loving boyfriend at the oral surgeon's office after receiving a prescription form for Vicodin. Little did I know that the oral surgeon did not give me any painkillers to tide me over until I got to the drug store to pick up my Vicodin. As soon as the numbing agent in my mouth wore off, I was in nailbiting pain. I started off whimpering softly and holding my mouth but that soon progressed into gulping sobs and tears with blood gushing down my gums. At this point, we were in Duane Reade on the line at the prescription counter. (A slight digression but I have to ask why the heck is there always a huge line at every Duane Reade prescription counter when there are like three Duane Reades on every block in this city????) As I was gushing blood and crying, my face had swollen to grotesque proportions. People hurriedly let me cut them on the line.
Then came the ordeal of the Duane Reade cashier. Now I know that these cashiers are paid minimum wage and they have a difficult life but I find that the Duane Reade cashiers especially the ones at the prescription counter are like really dim dinosaurs. They move at the slowest pace possible, have the worst attitude and it takes awhile for them to process anything. (I don't know if dinosaurs had bad attitudes but I assume they did. I secretly believe that this was the primary reason why they were wiped out as they pissed each other off and destroyed each other in a mutually destructive act.) Obviously, this is a generalization and I have met really nice and smart cashiers but I generally prefer if the pharmacist is manning the prescription desk as they are much nicer and faster. At this point I was babbling incoherently about needing medicine to make the pain stop. My boyfriend asked for an emergency rush on the Vicodin as I was clearly in pain and dripping blood on the counter. The cashier just stared at us blankly and said we would have to wait the requisite half hour. At this point, I was hitting my head on the counter (no really! I was hitting my head on the counter) because at least I could concentrate on a lesser pain rather than the huge explosion going on in my mouth. I think this among other things ( my boyfriend yelling at the cashier, other customers staring in horror, customers asking her to help us, the pharmacist stepping in) speeded the process up until I finally got my Vicodin.
So, all was well and I took my Vicodin and cried myself to sleep. I am thankful that my boyfriend continued to stay with me through my psychosis. I hope there is a special hell for those really horrible Duane Reade cashiers (not the nice ones but you know the ones I mean) and incompetent doctors. I think the incompetent doctors deserve the special hell more than the cashiers as I still harbour sympathy for the cashiers as I too have spent a year earning less than minimum wage, but maybe the cashier would be moved to a nicer level of hell. Remember, never trust professional recommendations! Always do the research when it comes to NYC doctors. I use www.webmd.com and the New York State Professional Misconduct and Physician Discipline. And check this NY Times article out.
I recently underwent a frantic search for a good OB/GYN as my previous perfect wonderful OBGYN retired. She was my mother's longtime buddy back in the day when my parents first immigrated to New York City. She was considerate, helpful, gave me free prescription sample medications and was very discreet. So wonderful that she successfully battled my mother into submission on OB/GYN visits when I was a teenager. My mother is a very nosy person and loves to be in the room with me wherever I go. Just imagine trying to convince your mom that you seriously do not need her in the bathroom stall with you when you really need to go! My OB/GYN would physically push my mother outside the room and lock the door. Of course, my mother would be pounding on the door trying to get in but my OB/GYN was probably the only doctor in the world who could keep her out and have it not affect her performance. *Sniff* I loved my doctor.
But one sad day she retired and referred me to another doctor. As I really trusted her advice, I immediately put the referral information in my Contacts and set up an appointment with the new doctor. I have now learned never to trust referrals from doctors. I had a hard time understanding my new OB/GYN as English was his second language. His nurses also had a difficult time understanding him and would frequently ask him to repeat himself. I was uncomfortable having a male OB/GYN but I trusted my previous doctor enough to try this new one out. Within a year of having this new doctor, I underwent unnecessary surgery, was assigned wrong prescriptions and was scheduled for appointments with the doctor when he was away on vacation. He also never called me back with the results of any of my tests. Granted, some of these problems were due to the administrative office but I really believe that a competent doctor would also keep a tight check on administrative issues like making sure that there are no appointments on the schedule before going away on vacation! I also think a doctor should call you regardless of whether the tests are positive or negative to at least let you know.
I recently found a new OB/GYN and she confirmed my suspicions about my previous doctor. I am now contemplating whether I should report my old doctor but I don't know if my accusations would be serious enough to warrant an investigation. It would also be a huge pain in the ass. So, I will most likely just move on with my life.
But I am so happy that I have now built up my personal arsenal of great doctors and a wonderful dentist. Still searching for the right oral surgeon. Have any tips? I need to get my wisdom teeth out! I went to an oral surgeon at the recommendation of my dentist (never trust professional recommendations!) and had a horrible experience. I'm not sure if it was because extracting wisdom teeth is in general a horrible experience or if the oral surgeon sucked. I requested general anesthesia instead of the local anesthesia because I wanted to be knocked out when they took those suckers out. I only asked for the left side to be taken out as I would be going to Russia shortly afterwards and I needed at least one decent side of the mouth to chew with and I was uncertain as to how to say - can you grind that food up into a pulp for me and pour it in my mouth - in Russian. I guess I could have survived on caviar and vodka but that would be a different story.
All I know is that the oral surgeon immediately began to attack my mouth while I was awake. I counted to ten and looked around for that mask they put on your face to put you to sleep. But I couldn't find the mask anywhere in my peripheral vision. As I was freaked out at this point, I started waving my arms and making ARGHHHH! noises and trying to get out of the chair. Finally, the oral surgeon stopped poking around my mouth and I explained that I requested general anesthesia. Then he put me under and knocked me out with whatever gas they use to knock you out. I still suspect he charged me for the local anesthesia as well as the general, bastard!
The beauty of general anesthesia is that you feel nothing. You also have no perception of time. It feels like you went to sleep and woke up immediately 3 minutes afterwards. Then you start to wonder why the clock is 3 hours ahead and what you are doing with a bloodstained napkin and why you are so groggy. I would imagine Roofies would feel the same way. Anyways, I was picked up by my loving boyfriend at the oral surgeon's office after receiving a prescription form for Vicodin. Little did I know that the oral surgeon did not give me any painkillers to tide me over until I got to the drug store to pick up my Vicodin. As soon as the numbing agent in my mouth wore off, I was in nailbiting pain. I started off whimpering softly and holding my mouth but that soon progressed into gulping sobs and tears with blood gushing down my gums. At this point, we were in Duane Reade on the line at the prescription counter. (A slight digression but I have to ask why the heck is there always a huge line at every Duane Reade prescription counter when there are like three Duane Reades on every block in this city????) As I was gushing blood and crying, my face had swollen to grotesque proportions. People hurriedly let me cut them on the line.
Then came the ordeal of the Duane Reade cashier. Now I know that these cashiers are paid minimum wage and they have a difficult life but I find that the Duane Reade cashiers especially the ones at the prescription counter are like really dim dinosaurs. They move at the slowest pace possible, have the worst attitude and it takes awhile for them to process anything. (I don't know if dinosaurs had bad attitudes but I assume they did. I secretly believe that this was the primary reason why they were wiped out as they pissed each other off and destroyed each other in a mutually destructive act.) Obviously, this is a generalization and I have met really nice and smart cashiers but I generally prefer if the pharmacist is manning the prescription desk as they are much nicer and faster. At this point I was babbling incoherently about needing medicine to make the pain stop. My boyfriend asked for an emergency rush on the Vicodin as I was clearly in pain and dripping blood on the counter. The cashier just stared at us blankly and said we would have to wait the requisite half hour. At this point, I was hitting my head on the counter (no really! I was hitting my head on the counter) because at least I could concentrate on a lesser pain rather than the huge explosion going on in my mouth. I think this among other things ( my boyfriend yelling at the cashier, other customers staring in horror, customers asking her to help us, the pharmacist stepping in) speeded the process up until I finally got my Vicodin.
So, all was well and I took my Vicodin and cried myself to sleep. I am thankful that my boyfriend continued to stay with me through my psychosis. I hope there is a special hell for those really horrible Duane Reade cashiers (not the nice ones but you know the ones I mean) and incompetent doctors. I think the incompetent doctors deserve the special hell more than the cashiers as I still harbour sympathy for the cashiers as I too have spent a year earning less than minimum wage, but maybe the cashier would be moved to a nicer level of hell. Remember, never trust professional recommendations! Always do the research when it comes to NYC doctors. I use www.webmd.com and the New York State Professional Misconduct and Physician Discipline. And check this NY Times article out.
posted by Native New Yorker at 2:45 PM
1 Comments:
That's so funny.(the whole article) I like your style. I am planning on being a doctor, and was wondering where to do my residency. I was settling on a place with fun interesting and nice people... as well as a lot of underserved.
Do you think your location has those things?
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