Numbers

I walked through the automatic sliding door--it was cold and smelled like a hospital, not what my normal routine of going to the doctor is like. I had decided to be a patient at the local Health Clinic for a check-up I needed to get for my internship.

I walked up to the check-in station and saw the digital clock that changed to 8:16 a.m. I was as perky as I could be and gave the lady my name. She looked at me grumpily and told me to sit down as she gave me a number. That's right, a number--you get better treatment at restaurants. It's like getting a lottery ticket at the doctor's office while everyone is waiting to find out what his or her real weight is and have blood work done.

As I waited, I thought about what I expected from this visit. From my first impression, I figured they would make me feel unimportant. At a doctor you are supposed to feel comfortable and welcomed. This was definitely the farthest thing I felt since I had come here.

I sat down to fill out my paperwork after they called my number and tried for a second time to be friendly in hopes maybe this lady would be nicer--she wasn't. I wondered if there was something in the water the employees drank. She asked me if I had insurance and when I said yes she looked at me with surprise, since a majority of their patients don’t. By the time I got back to my seat more people had came in.

There were people of all different races and most of them looked middle-class, which is probably not true. I saw two children from different ethnic backgrounds playing together with some toys they had in the waiting area. One child spoke Spanish and the other English. However, this did not stop them from playing and laughing. I'm sure that the neighborhood we were in makes that normal.

The chair I was sitting in was not made for waiting; it became uncomfortable after 15 minutes. The waiting room was typical, with magazines (except they were not popular) and a television (with advertisements for medicine companies playing). The only huge difference was the atmosphere. Finally, number 17 was called.

I walked back, a little nervous of what to expect even though it was just a check-up. To my surprise the doctors and nurses were much friendlier; maybe they get paid more. Living in a small town and having a mother that worked the ER, I am used to doctors joking with me and asking me how my family is. Other than this the care they provided wasn't any different.

After I was done I walked out of the room and waited to ask someone where I needed to go. A nurse looked at me and said, "Hold on, the translator will be out in a minute." I looked at her and was a little confused; I realized she thought I spoke Spanish. I told her that I was just trying to find out where I needed to go and she showed me. Evidently they deal with a lot of Spanish-speaking people--although I would never expect someone to think I spoke Spanish.

As I walked out I looked at my watch, 10:45 a.m. That was the longest, and most interesting, doctor's visit I've ever had. It was eye opening to see the expectations I had disappear. It was interesting to see how people interacted and the diversity in the health clinic. It made me very thankful for the health care that was provided for me as I grew up. I walked out of the sliding doors—the sun shined brightly as I was back in my comfort zone.