The Fraus Abide

Yesterday, my father-in-law arrived from Oklahoma. He’ll be spending a week or so with us. Upon arriving, he asked us to look at the back of his neck; told us he had a rash or something that was driving him nuts. We drove him down to the one of those walk-in “urgent care” places – it was after 6 p.m. and forget about getting an appointment with a standard GP or dermatologist – not just because it was after hours, either. You know the drill: Call thefraus, try to get an appointment. Maybe they’ll slot you in next week sometime. That’s if you’re already a patient. Absurdity Number One. Getting in to see a doctor without a labryinthian process that makes the DMV seem a paragon of efficiency.

Does anyone remember a time when one could just walk in – not to “urgent care” – but to one’s regular doctor? And be seen – without all the folderol?

I listened to the intake process as my father-in-law sat at the desk with the frau. One obnoxious, irrelevant – but very intrusive question after the next. Where did he work? What did he do? What does his wife do?

All part of the insurance shyster shuffle.

More