We live an information age. Technology pervades our existence practically every waking moment. And yet every time I go to a new doctor I am presented with a ream of paperwork, each page of which asks the same information again and again and again. How many times do I really need to fill out my name, DOB, address, phone number, and the date?? Can you please refer to the previous fifteen pages where I wrote all that down? Or, here's a wild and crazy thought, use a computer system that allows you to access this when I'm in the same healthcare group! Save a tree, save my time.
It all just becomes so much more fun when I'm filling out the paperwork in Cordie's name instead of my own. It's like all the questions take on an air of confusion that I find difficult to push through. Least of which is the fact that we still don't have a SSN for Cordie. Dear heavens. Have you ever tried to exist without a SSN? You don't. You are a ghost, invisible to the great governmental eye. People look at you like you are a baby snatcher when you try to explain that you don't know your own child's SSN. I seriously take her adoption paperwork to new doctors to prove she's ours.
At each doctor you are given the list of possible symptoms of interest to the doctor and by "of interest to the doctor" I mean everything that could possibly ever hurt. Do I have testicular torsion? Not today, but this paperwork feels like you're busting my balls. "At last," I mistakenly think, "something worth filling out."
I'm wrong. I'm wrong because I've already told the receptionist why I needed an appointment when I scheduled, now I'm filling out this interminable questionnaire, and then I will be asked by a very upbeat nurse who will, once again, write down why I'm visiting this doctor. And yet! And yet when the doctor comes in he/she will ask again. I would put this down to polite conversation except the doctor ALWAYS ALWAYS says "oh yes, I see that noted here" after I've given the five minute spiel about why I'm there. ARGHH!!! Of course it's noted! It's noted in three separate places! I've been in this waiting room and sitting on this cold table for half of my life, you couldn't possibly have taken two more minutes of my time and read what your upbeat nurse wrote??? Do you know you employ her? She does work here right, she isn't just wearing those scrubs and using this job as a front to steal my identity? Listen to her! Read the form I filled out!
I think from here on out I'll just pass out in the waiting room, then Josh will rush to my side and I'll weakly open my eyes and say "You know what would make me feel better? If you filled out this form."
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