It Starts With An Uphill Battle And Then Goes Downhill

I’m going through a serious mental health crisis and am required to get an evaluation from my doctor to then receive a mental health plan which will help out with the costs for a therapist. The doctor I go to has been treating me for years and is walk-in only; you go in, they check out your Medicare card, and you’re put in the queue. It’s first in, best dressed, but it’s only a small office that not many know of, so it’s rarely crowded and the wait time is rather short. I’m twenty years old but look very young for my age.

On this particular day, I’ve been having a really bad round of issues. I am incredibly miserable and spent the last night and this morning crying. I decide to go right to the doctor’s office at opening to get things over and done with.

The office itself is a house that’s been renovated on the inside. Like most houses, there’s a steep driveway leading up to the entrance; however, they’ve also added stairs along the side. The driveway is much steeper than the stairs, which are the long type where you have to walk a couple of steps in between to reach the next stair.

I can see a middle-aged woman walking slowly up the driveway. As I start on the stairs, I see her glance at me and then quicken her pace. I still reach the entrance before her and enter right as she reaches the top. I hear her “hmph” as I hold the door open for her behind me.

She then walks really close behind me and tries to steer her way around me to get in front, but the hallway leading to the waiting room is too narrow. I reach the receptionist first, who is on the phone, so I stand a little way behind the desk, waiting to be called on. The lady stands next to me, a little bit in front, to make it seem like she got there first. I’m in no mood for a fight so I pretend not to notice.

The receptionist hangs up the phone and asks who is next, but she looks right past the lady and at me. At the same time, I can see the lady glaring at me out of the corner of my eye, as if expecting me to let her go first. Normally, I would let her, but my miserable mood mixed with her microaggressions have left me really not caring about her, so without looking in her direction, I go up to the desk. I get my card checked, fill out the general information slip, and sit down. This really only takes two minutes, yet the whole time I can hear the lady muttering and grumbling behind me.

After sitting down, the lady approaches the desk and loudly says, “Don’t you remember the days when kids respected their elders?”

The receptionist — in her mid-twenties — stared at her incredulously and replied, “No. I don’t.”