Okay. I’m in pain. My eye is sealed shut and I’m whimpering. Can’t sleep. Leave another annoyed message on the fine doctor’s office voice mail. Whatever. So they think I’m a crazed lunatic. They would be too if it felt like their eye was a deviled egg being pierced by a toothpick. I tell them my eye hurts… and I’m… not… happy!
Three hours later the DOCTOR’s partner calls me. He asks me what happens and several times peppers the conversation with I’m trying to make you happy…. Ms. X, I really want to make you happy…. Your happiness is my goal…. And he said all this to me while I was relatively calm and not even argumentative or hostile. I think he must have picked this technique up in malpractice avoidance class. I ask him to explain to me why my eye is sooo swollen. The other DOCTOR then asks me what my background is — what I do for a living — because these things are rarely “black and white”. Ok…. this pissed me off… I said to him and I quote, “I understand everything you have said. However, my “background” has nothing to do with me understanding something that you said that doesn’t make sense. Your DOCTOR partner friend pierced my eye admittedly and that’s why I have this problem. Are you implying that I’m not educated?? If I told you that I went to Harvard grad school would you treat me better –????? Would you ?
He then quickly back pedaled and said, “oh this is not taking a good turn — I didn’t mean that — ohhh” Yes, you did — you flippin’ egomaniacal prick. The conversation then proceeded along and after a while he again tried to explain away why he’d ask me that question. I’m starting to NOT like plastic surgeons — not one bit.