Doctors and Cowboys

So, I'm now in my third day of staying home with a nasty sinus infection. I'm past contagious, but still too weak to be much use to the old people at Meals on Wheels. I haven't done a lot except read other people's blogs and watch the news. I'm horrified by events in New Orleans, but there's more than enough ranting going on for me to need to add my thoughts. I'll just say "ditto." I'm here to confess that the reason I'm probably home today is that I went to the Cowboys vs. J'ville game last night. I couldn't resist. A good friend had an extra ticket, and it just sounded like so much fun, and it was, but I'm definitely paying for it today. But, the Cowboys aren't even what I want to rant about today.
Today, I want to rant about going to the doctor. I don't like going to the doctor. I never have. I don't go nearly often enough. In fact, I couldn't even remember the name of the last doctor I saw when I was filling out my "new patient" chart yesterday. I sat in an icy cold waiting room for thirty minutes before being called back to sit in an icy cold examining room on some sterile strip of paper that makes the most annoying sound in the world whenever you move. I stared at blank walls for another 15 minutes before the good doctor arrived to ask me if I smoke? no drink? no am sexually active? no -- at this point, she looks up at me incredulously and says, "Well, do you do street drugs?" Can I tell you that it took everything in me not to look at her and say, "Yes, yes I do. I don't smoke. I don't drink. I don't sleep around, but I regularly inject my body with poison for the heck of it." Wow. I just said "no" and she stared a second longer, shook her head, and continued writing in her chart. She stuck probing instruments in my ears, my nose, and my throat, listened to me breathe a few times, and then told me that the stuff I'd bought over the counter at the pharmacy was just as good as anything, and I should proably just double the recommended dose for a while and buckle down for a rough allergy season. Then, to add insult to injury, she wrote me a prescription for some junk to spray up my nose a couple of times a day! Really?! Did I mention I PAID her for this?!