If you’re anything like me, you’ve probably felt that one of the worst parts about going to the doctor is having to put on one of those dashing and delightsome gowns. You know the ones made with uninspired colors and patterns, with arm holes in odd places, and strings and snaps that are supposed to hold it all together but rarely do? Those gowns?
Well, on my Medical Sojourn to Greenville on Monday, I was reminded of something that I really, really like about my oncologist.
He provides his patients with robes. Real robes. With real belts. Robes that don’t feel like they’re going to fall off your person if you move too quickly. Or too slowly. Or even too medium-ly.
The robes are a dream to put on and a dream to wear. (Which is a good thing since I waited a month of Sundays for the doctor to finally appear in the exam room.)
It occurred to me while I waited that I could take a photo of my bedazzling robe so you could rejoice with me (with exceeding great joy) that at least one doctor on the planet is Robe Savvy. As I sat there in my robe-esque luxuriousness and read a magazine I thought, “Ahhh. This isn’t so bad.”
If they would offered me a choice of drinks and snacks, I would have been even happier but hey, one can’t have everything! Can one?
Anyway. Here is The Robe. Is it stupendous, or what?
After my robe and I had sat for quite a little while in the solemn silence of the exam room, my oncologist finally made his appearance and performed the anticipated exam. May I just say that since I’ve never before had a breast exam when the area under examination was comprised of only scars and silicone, the experience was just a tad disconcerting. I’m sure I’ll get used to it eventually but it was just very, very different.
When he was finished with the
silicone breast exam, the doctor then proceeded to give me a little mini-lecture about the sorts of symptoms I should look for concerning a relapse. He then made the pronouncement that I looked “really, really great,” patted me heartily on my berobed shoulder, told me he’d see me in six months and vamoosed from the room.
I was really sort of reluctant for the visit to end because it meant that I’d have to give up the robe. Eventually though, I tore myself away from that darling little number and and made my way to the check out area to pay. As I geared myself up to cough up the usual $50 co-pay (for the four-minute visit) the lady at the desk said, “Let’s see, here. It looks like you have a $240 credit on your account.”
A credit? At a doctor’s office? Whoever heard of such a thing?
So instead of me having to pay them something, she applied my credit toward the $50 co-pay and said they would send the balance to me in the mail.
A lovely robe? A non-co-payment-payment? A pending check?
FROM THE COMMENT AREA . . .
Wow! Different house! Quick question...are the shutters wood or vinyl? If vinyl/plastic stuff, what was the process to change them? I have a "berry" color and I want to go to the charcoal/black! Thank God I have no high ones to deal with!
Guerrina, our shutters are plastic. (And how funny is that we went from black to berry and you want to go from berry to black!) As far as I know, Steve just painted them with regular ol’ paint. I think he may have sanded a few rough areas first, but the paint went on just like he was painting a wall. Pretty quick and easy—all except for removing the ones from the second story! Glad you don’t have any of those!