My family and I have been dealing with a case of itchiness. We’re not sure what’s going on but 3 weeks ago I broke out into hives. I went to urgent care because it is impossible to get in to see my doctor in a reasonable amount of time. I was told there that it was not scabies but they couldn’t tell me what it was. I was given a prescription and sent on my way. The medication I received worked miracles, my rash was gone in a matter of minutes, but the itch sensation has remained.
My daughter and my boyfriend are also itchy. After consulting Dr. Google my boyfriend, who you should know is a total germaphobe, decided that we have scabies. So off we all go to urgent care, a different urgent care than the one I went to by myself.
Of course, this urgent care does not accept my daughter and me’s insurance so they refer us to one that does just right down the street. I wish I would have just paid the $125 fee to be seen there and saved myself the aggravation.
It was about 6:45 when we walked in, they close at 8, we were not greeted with a smile or concern, we got a dry ass “Hello”, I replied with “Hi, my daughter and I both need to be seen.”
“Well, we have over an hour wait.”
Ok, so that comment alone might not mean much except exactly what it states but her tone was outta control. I work customer service so I know how much it sucks when someone walks in 10 min to closing, I was ready to give her the benefit of the doubt, even though they didn’t close for over an hour.
“That’s fine.” I smiled in reply.
“Ok, I need your IDs.” still dry.
“I have my ID but she doesn’t have one.” I point to my daughter.
“Oh, then I can’t help you.” She quickly dismissed us.
“She’s a minor, so she doesn’t have one,” I reply
“Oh, ok we can just use yours.”
“I don’t have the physical medical ID cards but..”
She was quick to cut me off, “Oh, well we need those.”
“Yeah, I have them in the app.”
“No, no, that won’t work we need the ID numbers.”
“Yes, the ID cards are in the app.” I start to get annoyed and I’m sure my face reflected it.
“Ok, email them here.” she hands me a paper with an email on it.
As I’m emailing her the ID cards two white women walk in and this is what I hear from the dry, unhappy receptionist.
“Hello Ladies, how can we help you today?”
I turn to see the two white women standing behind us.
“Yes, of course, we will be right with you ladies.”
I was livid. Why didn’t they get a weak ass greeting? Why weren’t they told that it was over an hour wait?
My name and my daughter’s names were placed on the waiting list on the TV where you can see how many people are ahead of you. The white woman’s name was placed behind ours. When my name was at the top of the list, meaning I was next, the white woman was called back. I was pissed but then they brought her back out, she had gone back for x-rays and then brought back out, ok that’s fine. We waited and were now the only people in the waiting room. They opened the door and guess who they called back, not us!! We sat there and waited. I sat there going over the whole encounter in my head.
Was this really happening?
By the time they called us back, they asked if we wouldn’t mind being seen together, I agreed.
They did the intake and it was maybe 8:15, this white doctor comes in and says, “I understand you’re both dealing with itchy skin.”
“Ok, well I’ve seen about 14 to 15 people in the last couple hours, you being 14 and her 15,” he points to my daughter. “I’m not a dermatologist so there isn’t much I can do except refer you to one.”
At this point my boyfriend has been prescribed 4 different medications in an attempt to cure the itch, he was told it was not scabies.
The doctor we were seeing didn’t even attempt to examine our skin until I said, “My boyfriend was seen down the street, told it was not scabies and prescribed 4 different medications, including an anti-fungal pill just in case.”
He mumbled something and then checked my back, “This is because you’ve been scratching.” He didn’t even check my daughter.
He mentioned that two of his nurses had to leave at 8 and that he had dinner plans that would not be interrupted.
“I’ll prescribe you something for the itch.”
He left only to return and then check my daughter, just the skin he could see, she was in a tank top.
He told me that if my boyfriend’s medication helped that I could call in and ask for him, he would then prescribe the same medication for us.
I mean, what the fuck was that about?
Did all that really just go down like that?
Ummm, was it because we’re Mexican and not white?
I mean, we’re American, born and raised in the United States so why, why the harsh treatment and quick dismissal. The judgment and dismissal weren’t just by one person in this facility.
A clip from clueless playing in my mind, “This is America.”
The part of the movie where they tell her they have coke available as an option for lunch. I’m a 90s kid so of course as I’m thinking about America and being an American, that pops into my head.
I was so livid when we left that, of course, I argued with my man, it wasn’t his fault but I took it out on him. I told him what happened and he didn’t believe me until I yelped the place. That was wrong and it made me feel so small. No one deserves that kind of treatment, no one!
Have you experienced anything similar? Share with me!