I had a minor health problem and finally decided that it was time to see a specialist to try and solve it. Armed with the name of the specialist who practices in Springfield and Florence, I phoned their office. It didn’t take long to realize that one of the first things you have to do is match together health insurance providers and health care providers.
After being told I’d have to move along, I found specialist number two who did take my insurance. We set up an appointment. When the day arrived, I drove down the interstate to a huge building set in front of a parking lot you might see at Costco. Huge. Inside an army of women sat in windows, there were at least ten. They were all busy taking appointments and filling out forms. “We handle thirteen doctors here,” one explained. “They are all urologists.”
Around the room, people young and old sat patiently on blue chairs, in front of them a large television was playing. Every one of these people, I thought has a problem similar to mine. And they too, must have the same kind of insurance as me. For such a specific practice boy this seems like a pretty busy place.
After I left, I was given orders not to drink so much coffee. That’s probably a good thing, since I am known to overdo it.