In America, when you’re on public health, and you finally manage to get a check-up appointment, you go no matter what. If you have to reschedule, it will take months, and probably affect your paperwork or something.
I was thirteen, heavily into punk rock and dressed accordingly. I also had the stomach flu. But, I had a check-up appointment and my grandma was not about to lose our spot.
After several hours of miserably ill waiting, we got to the doctor and explained the situation, hoping he would hurry up so I could go home.
“Have you been sleeping a lot?” He asked
“Would you say you have a negative attitude?” He asked
That’s a weird question, but the stomach flu does tend to make a person more than a little bit sad. “Yes?”
He turned to my grandma and said “this sometimes happens when they are at this age… you said you were 15?” He looked down at his chart and back up.
“I have something that can help.”
I didn’t know stomach flu was an adolescent phenomena, but I was feeling worse by the second, and could really use anything he might have available.
Grandma and I were happy to have such a rare find: an actually helpful and useful county health worker.
“I will start her on a normal dose, we should see results within the first month.”
I’m not entirely sure what happened after that, because my head was spinning, but the gist of the situation was that the man had completely disregarded everything except for my appearance, and based on my Subhumans shirt, I was obviously depressed and in need of an age-appropriate dose of mood altering drugs.
So I puked on his shoes.
Weather I got a check up or not, I can’t recall.