STAFF INFECTION

You know all this talk about health insurance is really getting a bit tedious.  Some say America has the best health services in the world. That may be true, but if it is, I really feel sorry for anyone who gets sick anywhere else on this big round ball I like to call Earth.  

Now, I'll admit there are many dedicated medical professionals. Unfortunately, I don't run into a lot of them.  The truth is most of my problems have been, not with the doctors, but their staffs. I've had some horrid experiences, and apparently I'm not alone.

A friend of mine...I'll just call her Terrijo (I've cleverly changed her name to protect her identity), was telling me about an experience she had with one of those after hours doctors' answering services.  You know, the doctors hire a live person, who often is less caring than an answering machine.  I guess they're instructed not to panic, but it would be nice if they didn't give you the impression that your call was an intrusion on their nail filing.

Terrijo says she informed the phone answerer that she needed to get hold of an optometrist and that it was an emergency. She had a chemical burn in her eye.

Now, before I continue let me just interject that as she was telling me this, I was doubled over in pain. I have a low threshold for pain, even hearing about it. But, back to her problem...

So she tells the woman who has been hired, and who is, in all probability, being paid to answer emergency calls, that she has a chemical burn in her eye. She explains that her optometrist does not have an after hours emergency number.

"So, you're not a regular patient?" Miss Sympathy Galore asks my friend.

"No, but a friend of mine recommended I call you. She says you are very accommodating," Terrijo explains. That sounds nice enough, and to be honest, if my eyeball were burning, I wouldn't worry about being so nice.

"We are accommodating," Miss How Can I Help My Fellowman says, "...to our regular patients."

"Well, I have a regular emergency," my friend says. Now she's beginning to talk my language, the beautiful language of sarcasm. "And I have regular insurance and regular cash to pay for it."

"You're welcome to come in when the office opens at nine in the morning," Miss Compassion Is My Middle Name says.

Needless to say, Terrijo took her damaged eyeball elsewhere. And I thought I got poor service.  This is so typical. The staff in my doctor's office goes by the Hypocritic Creed, which says, in part, "We care about all mankind, but especially those who have insurance. No, let us correct that. We only care about all who have insurance."

If I were wheeled into my doctor's office on a gurney, with blood gushing out of my ears, and both of my arms dangling by some sinewy thread from my contorted body, I'd have to somehow reach into my back pocket, pull out my insurance card and let them make a photocopy before they'd talk to me.  

I want to make one thing clear...my doctor is very compassionate. I say that because I may be on a gurney one day with blood gushing out of my ears and I don't want him to be bringing this blog up before he stops the bleeding.

But I also want to be clear on another thing...his staff could not care less. Once I waited three days for him to call in a refill of a prescription upon which my life hinged. He never got the message. I just hope those gals in his office have an emergency  need for me to write a column for them one day. Just wait. I'll show them a thing or two.

TO ERR IS HUMAN. TO FORGIVE IS POLITICALLY CORRECT

What is wrong with you people...at least some of you, not you, personally, of course. Some of you however are just so judgmental. You know who you are and you know what I'm talking about.

For the innocents of you out there, I'll spell it out. Kanye West. I've heard so many negative comments about West, even before he had a chance to explain. Now that he's explained why he did what he did, I guess those of you who are so quick to criticize are feeling pretty foolish right about now.

But let's analyze Mr. West's apologies (and yes there were several, which, in itself proves beyond a shadow of a doubt he is sincere). But first things first...in his blog, West wrote, "I'm so sorry." Now that alone should shut up his critics. He said he was sorry. Let's forgive and forget, you heathens.  But West went way beyond that, or perhaps I should say, "he went waaaaaayyyy beyond that."  Because the rapper turned apologist actually wrote, "I'm soooooo sorry." That's right. Six, count 'em six "o"s were used.  Now a 2 "o" so should be more than enough, but this poor persecuted man used 6 of  'em. I would think in anybody's book that should settle the matter. 

In fact, I'd say that the fact that Taylor Swift hasn't come out and accepted that apology tells you more about her than it does about him. Okay, technically she accepted it, but she really should have apologized for her part in putting him in that embarrassing situation.

But, West has gone way beyond a six "o" so.  He, in effect, opened up the very essence of his being, pouring his heart out and revealing his deepest, innermost thoughts. Looking at the audience in what has to be totally genuine remorse, the young musical genius told a somewhat heartless audience, "I may need to take some time off."

What pathos.  Or maybe I should say, "What does pathos mean?" Because I don't really know. But just think about this. Here Kanye West, in the prime of an ultra-successful life, indicates that the reason he stormed the stage and grabbed the microphone from the young and somewhat snotty Swift is that the poor man is just plain tired. Not since Madeline Kahn expressed her fatigue in Blazing Saddles has anyone so eloquently come right out and admitted to having been tired.

I have to tell you, I was shedding tears in buckets last night, not just because my heart went out to Kenye West, but because even I, yes even I, had harbored some animosity towards this most gracious of entertainers.

But I'm a changed man.  Just as America having elected a non-white President has made all of us white people feel better about ourselves, so my being so forgiving of Kanye West, who is also non-white, makes me feel real good about myself.

I'm positively radiant today. In fact, I don't think I've felt so good about myself since I forgave Chris Brown.