#MicroblogMondays: In Which My Attempt at Making An Appointment Doesn’t Work Out

As you may have guessed, we’ve decided that our time of waiting, healing, learning to balance, and preparation has drawn to a close. I’ve never gotten very far with any of our previous attempts at diagnostics, and so that basically means we start again at square one.

Step one: making an appointment with a gynecologist. That was today’s assignment, and it left me in tears.

(Sidebar: I notice I write about years a lot. I don’t actually cry that much!)

The problem was, I don’t have a gynecologist. I’m long overdue for a yearly exam, but I haven’t bothered. Because reasons. So in order to do anything at all, I need to find a gynecologist.

Finding a gynecologist is like arranging a marriage based on less information than a private Facebook profile. Given that all gynecologist are highly trained, it should be as easy as “Who is accepting new patients?”, but it’s not. My last doctor, for example, was a jackass, and I’m a little gun-shy.

Long story short: the receptionist was very, very rude and unhelpful. I was put on hold very abruptly, and she kept saying “Infertility” very loudly. I hung up in despair, as I waited to be transferred to a different department.

Isn’t this supposed to be the easy part?

(Note: if anyone from Brigham and Women’s is reading this, I’m talking about you guys. Do better. Seriously.)