When I was in the ninth grade, I said that the assistant principal was like a nazi. My very scary French teacher went completely mad. She didn't just teach French, she was French. During the Second World War, she had been in a concentration camp, her wrist was tattooed, and she knew nazis. So, I know that comparing the doctor Karen saw today to Dr. Mengele, is bound to offend, and after reading the Wikipedia entry, I'm offended myself.
Still, it's a convenient shorthand for a torturous visit. After we had waited for over an hour past her appointment, we were told that her doctor had left and we would have to see whoever was still there. He listened to Karen tell him that her legs hurt so badly that she couldn't sleep and without her oral meds, she could never get relief. Oh, wait, did I tell you that we did buy a small number of her meds last week? They cost $400. for a few days supply.
Okay, so the doctor listens to Karen and then he gets a hammer out of a drawer, and approaches Karen who is complaining about the agony in her legs, and he hits her several times in the legs. Then while she cried in the corner, he did write her a prescription for her meds. He wrote it for thirty. I told him that I couldn't afford to buy that many since last week fifteen cost her that $4oo I was telling you about. But, oops, I was wrong. When I took the prescription for the fifteen that he wrote to the pharmacy, it was $600. I asked why it had gone up fifty percent in a week, he told me that she only got ten last week.
But, at least her regular doctor has sent all that information to Blue Cross so we can stop spending $1000 a week. Just kidding, one of the things the doctor was planning on talking to us about today, if she had stuck around, we found out, was whether we wanted her to mail in the records we had begged her to mail in.