The pain was unbearable; she thought she was going to pass out. “How much longer can I tolerate this?” she cried to herself as she lay on the floor. The doctors couldn’t find a damn thing wrong with her, yet here she was in agonizing pain again.

She made her way off the floor, found her cell phone, and dialed an all too familiar number. The receptionist was so frigging cheerful as she answered, “Good morning, Dr. Doe’s office (names are changed to hide the identity of inept persons)., She would have choked her if she could have reached through the phone. “Yeh, this is Ally Baylor, and I need an appointment today.” She went on to describe her problem; she wished she had taped an earlier conversation, as this was getting old. After much haggling and near begging, she finally got an appointment time and prayed she could hold on till then.

The parking lot was full when she pulled in, and it seemed like hiking Everest just to get in the building. The ever positive receptionist was there, waiting to check her in. She answered all the obligatory questions, hobbled to her seat and waited. The pain was still excruciating, she was going to puke if they didn’t do something soon. The wall void of a clock was a painful symbol of how long she was going to have to wait for this emergency appointment.

Finally, her name was called. Her mind was racing as she followed the nurse down the hall, “Please let them find something. I cannot take this anymore.” If they offered her pain pills and sent her on her way one more time, she was going to stage a sit in and it would not be pretty. The tears were rolling down her cheeks as an unfamiliar face walked through the door. “Oh God, what does this mean?” she thought as she asked where Dr Doe was today.