How many dollars for a minute of your life?

This may end up sounding curmudgeony. I left a doctor's office today before treatment was rendered, but after being held in the examination chamber for more than 30 minutes. Now, hold on. Let's give you the back-story here. So I've got this 10:45 appointment for the little one (she's just 18 months old) with a dermatologist. Nothing life-threatening, just a lil' white spot on her arm that her dad and I thought we'd get looked at. The little one and I manage to beat the odds (if you've ever tried to get somewhere on time with anyone under the age of 3, you understand "the odds") arriving at the doctor's office 5 minutes before the appointment time. Now, again it's our first visit and we all know the "paper work" routine.

One of the women behind the sliding glass window gets me started with these few pages and I specifically ask her, "How is the doctor's schedule today? Is she running on time?" to which she replies, "Oh, yes. In fact just as soon as we get these filled out we'll get you right back there."

"Huh." I think to myself. "That's good. So by 11:30, we'll be sliding through Wendy's. Perfect."

The paperwork was easy and quick. Less than 10 minutes later, we're up. Down the hall, room 3, in we go left with instructions to get the baby down to her skivies and assured that the "doctor will be right in".

The baby was patient for 10 minutes on the exam table. She occupied herself for another 10 minutes climbing on the chair, testing the cabinet doors and peeking through the blinds. At 11:25 she's trying to open the exam room door to leave, I presume. She begins to cry the "hungry cry". She plops herself on the floor. She gets up. She reaches for me, still crying the Hungry Cry.

It's 11:28 and I've had it. The baby's hungry, she's crying (it's her well-established lunch time). I start to think about what the doctor might feel her time is worth. I'm more than likely to agree with any amount she'd throw on the table. Then I remembered the notice posted to the left of the "receiving window" which stated very certainly that if you were more than 15 minutes late for any appointment, your appointment would be rescheduled. I hear casual chatter and laughter from the hallway outside.

The lavender jumpsuit the baby was wearing went right back on. I had time to snap all 20 snaps, gather our things and walk to the front of the clinic with no sign of the doctor. I stopped at "the window" and asked the same receptionist to send us the $15 co-pay because the baby was starving, we've been here more than 45 minutes and we're just not waiting any longer reminding her politely that we'd asked if the doctor was "on-time". Taken aback she starts, "Well, the doctor is just right there."

I said, "She's starving. We're going."

Now, this is not PMS rearing it's head. This is not a short temper. This is principle. This is our life. Granted, the dermatological appointment wasn't life or death and was probably low priority. No bleeding or disfigurement . . . but why not just "suggest" a time for us to show up instead of making an appointment.

A few years ago, I learned something that stuck with me about being on time. Wayne McKamie said, "If you're late getting somewhere, with very, very few exceptions, I'd ask you to look back and honestly say to yourself, 'So what was more important than getting here on time?' Sleeping? Web-surfing? Taking just one more non-emergency phone call?'." And McGraw throws in, "It's just arrogance. You're telling me that my time is far less important than yours."

Does this qualify as a rant?