I walk in. Find out my co-pay is $40. I have met my deductible. My co-pay for any other appointment, specialists and urgent care included, is $12. Nope. To get seen for mental health, it's $40. I hand her my check card and tell her, "No wonder people kill themselves. Who can afford that?" We're off to a peachy start.

Whlie I'm waiting, I do what most people do, and look around...They have a sign posted that basically says-"Hey, when the new year starts, phones are going to busy at the insurance companies, and it's going to be tough for us to be on hold and stuff. So, we're just going to charge you the full amount for your visits then, and when things slow down, and we get around to it, we'll start crediting your accounts with all that money we're getting ready to start overcharging you. That money you won't have in January/February, because you just spent it at Christmas."

So...then I get THE CLIPBOARD with the forms. I'm expecting the "you're responsible for your bill" form, the "we have to share information with your insurance company so we can bill them" form, the HIPPA form...what I am not expecting is about four various forms about urine tests like I'm there for parole check ins. It literally brings tears to my eyes. I haven't seen a medical professional yet, and already, I'm mentally trying to figure out how to budget my mental health needs against food bills against co-pays, and now I'm looking around for hidden cameras and wondering if people are going to be watching me go pee, because they've just told me if I want to be seen that day, I'm going to have to pee in a cup. It's literally taken me years to get up the mental fortitude to start therapy, and I'm already feeling like I can't afford it and that I'm being treated like a suspect. I'm feeling paranoid. And I don't even use drugs. Like at all. 

I turn in the clipboard. The woman brings it back to me. She is not pleased that on the HIPAA form, I noted, "I have not received a handbook." She points to the form and tells me, "This is the handbook." I tell her, "This is not a handbook." She says, "Well, this is what we mean." I tell her, "Then you should have it say, 'one sheet of paper, not handbook,'" and she frowns. I also tell her, "I also did not receive a copy. You are holding the only copy." She says, "Goddammit." (I think she does. In her head.)

I go into the therapy room for my intake. She makes the mistake of mentioning that look unhappy. I tell her the list of what has pissed me off so far. We talk, then, she puts herself on the list...

Short story short-she tells me that this is only an "intake" appointment. (Sounds like prison terminology again-along with the pee test) In order to discuss my medication, I will need to make a different appointment, with a different person, on a different day, with a differnt co-pay, because-reasons. 

I am a reasonable person. In fact, not only am I a nice person, but I actually, actively work on being a KIND person. I think this is a bullshit policy, that, as most every single aspect of this practice, is not patient-centered. However, if it is their policy, so be it. But...you have to actually TELL THE PATIENT in order for this to be a fair deal. When I called, I was up front about the fact that I was calling was because I wanted to work with a psychiatrist to get my medication adjusted. Let me repeat that: I was up front. Here is my problem now-at no point, was this "policy" explained to me. Nobody told me that I would have to go through multiple appointments, co-pays, and providers. I would have, at the very least, gone ahead and made that second appointment. I am almost out of my anxiety appointment at this point. With no psychiatist appointment in sight. And, I had NO NOTICE that this was going to be the set up. And, this woman cannot understand why I am upset. I don't always agree with the notion of "the customer is always right." But, if there is one place that you should be able to de-escalate a situation and empathize with a patient, it's the MOTHERFUCKING PSYCHIATRIST'S OFFICE! 

So...she had me wait in the waiting room. I did. For thirty minutes. As I was gathering my things to go-because I was over it...this other woman came in and offered to have someone see me at 1:00 pm for free (please smile). Small problem-it wasn't even 11:30 am yet. So...I'm supposed to what? Drive home over thirty minutes, twiddle my thumbs for just over half an hour and then drive back over thirty minutes? Aaand listen to you tell me what a grand gesture you are making? Um, no. I finished gathering my things and told them their office and its treatment of its patients leave much to be desired, and that I would NOT be back. EVER. So...now, I will try to find a different psychiatrist. Wish me