There’s a reason I didn’t go to medical school. First of all, I wasn’t smart enough. Secondly, I never wanted to. Broken bones, bloody body parts, sick people and medicine; none of these things interested me. High school biology class was as far as I got in learning about the inner workings of the human body. The high school parking lot was where I learned about different drugs and what they were good for. Neither of these experiences would have qualified me to move on to higher education in the medical field. I’m now kind of sorry I wasn’t a better student. If I had paid more attention in biology class and had taken even a glancing interest in medicine, I might not be in the predicament I’m in now.

Having recently moved from Michigan to Arizona, I find myself in the unenviable position of having to find a doctor. It’s not like the old days when you just had to pull out the local Yellow Pages and search under P for Physicians. Nope. Now, in order to find a doctor or make an appointment you must first become a member of a medical group. Enrolling in one of these medical groups is all done online and will take you anywhere from 15 minutes to six months to complete. Because getting an appointment with a doctor is nearly impossible, it is advisable to prepare for any upcoming illness at least one year prior to actually getting sick. This will also ensure that you have enough time to complete your medical history questionnaire.

For those of you who know me, or have read other tangents on my blog, you are well-aware that I have always been somewhat of a hypochondriac. As a child, I wasn’t allowed to watch medical dramas on TV because no matter what the illness, within 24 hours I would be convinced that I had it. I once told my mother I couldn’t go to school because I had hardening of the arteries. My mom was cool, though, since she had also watched Marcus Welby, MD the night before. She just rolled her eyes and pushed me out the door. “But what about my arteries?” I screamed to a closed front door. I once called my sister in a panic after I got out of the shower. While drying my feet, I noticed small red circles covering the bottom of my left foot. They were uniform in size and shape and appeared to be some sort of inverted blisters. While my sister tried to calm me down and insist that leprosy didn’t look like that, I noticed the circles fading. I was perplexed and worried about it all day. It wasn’t until the next day when showering that I looked down and realized I was standing on the drain. I picked up my foot and, lo and behold, the previous days foot disease had reappeared!

After speaking with a few friends here in Arizona, I found out that the best way to get prompt medical attention without calling 911, is to get a concierge doctor. Concierge? The only time I used a concierge was when I was staying in a New York hotel and I needed tickets for a Broadway show. I wondered if the concierge doctor also had those kinds of connections. Would I be able to have a mammogram AND see Wicked? This sure beats anything Blue Cross/Blue Shield ever offered. But, after doing some research, I found out that a concierge doctor is one who charges an annual fee for giving you quick access and personalized attention to your medical needs. I may be wrong, but isn’t that how your doctor should always treat you? Tim and I did some online searching, and made a “meet and greet” appointment with a concierge doctor to see if we liked him and to hear what kind of benefits we could expect. 

Our first impression wasn’t great. The door to his office was locked and when someone finally came to the door and let us in, we saw that she had been sleeping on the sofa in the lobby. I don’t know who she was, but she will never be allowed to take my blood. When the doctor came out to get us, the first thing I noticed about him was his odd footwear. He was wearing some type of sock/moccasin/pool shoe combination that I was certain didn’t come from Neiman Marcus. Red flag number one. As he ushered us down the hall to his office I tried to take in what the exam rooms looked like. I was immediately struck by how outdated they seemed. I didn’t want to look too closely as I was afraid I might see a jar of leeches and an arrow remover. Once we were seated, I let Tim do the talking as I surveyed the doctor’s office. 

Scattered around the office, he had a lot of books on Yoga, meditation, cognitive behavior and holistic healing. Yeah, I wasn’t going to get any Vicodin from this guy. There was a dream catcher hanging on the wall and something on the windowsill that looked like a shrunken head. I was starting to get a Bewitched vibe and could hear Samantha calling, “Dr. Bombay. Emergency. Come right away.” As I perused his bookshelf further, I saw a small book titled “Kill as Few Patients as Possible.” I immediately looked at Tim and gave him the, “I want to leave. NOW” look. It was just about that time that the doctor directed his comment to me. “I can recommend a gynecologist if you’re not comfortable with me examining you.” I wasn’t even comfortable sitting in the same room with him fully clothed, with my car keys in hand! So, we thanked him for his time and said we would let him know if we were interested and then left.

When we got in the car, Tim told me that the doctor’s fee was $4,500 per year, per person. “Does that include a trip to New York and theatre tickets?” I asked. Needless to say, one of us better get to medical school.