#2 Pencil
Um, have you seen this? All I can think of to say about it is: WTF?
Speaking of crazy, I had the first part of my psych eval yesterday. It wasn’t nearly as glamorous as you might think. First of all, I got there at the appointed time and walked into an empty waiting room. There was a clipboard full of paperwork and a note for me to fill out everything. The pen that was supplied was out of ink. I dug one out of my purse, only to find that it was ALMOST out of ink. So, I made my way through the paperwork, answering as honestly as I could. It was pretty mundane stuff, really. Medical history, questions about binging, questions about my expectations of the surgery and how I was going to change my lifestyle afterward.
All of that took me a half an hour. No big, right? I get to the final booklet on the clipboard and it’s an “inventory” in the style of standardized tests. You know, fill in the circles with a #2 pencil. Except, I didn’t have a pencil. The dr didn’t provide one and didn’t tell me to bring one. So, I sat there. And I sat some more. Another half hour went by and I had been there an hour without seeing a single person. I considered my options. I could complete the inventory in pen, or I could write her a note and leave. Instead, I waited. I figured I’d have to see someone EVENTUALLY, right? Another half hour goes by and by then I had been waiting for an hour. Getting pissier and pissier, I might add. The dr finally checks on me and I explain, as nicely as I can, that I finished everything but the inventory since I didn’t have a pencil. She laughs and says “oh, I’m sorry. I forgot to give you one.” I wanted to say “sure, no problem. I didn’t mind sitting there for an hour because you’re incompetent.” I believe what I really said was “no problem.” So, she takes me back to her office, collects my check for $280 and gives me a pencil. It was 3:30 and she says “you should be out of here at least by 5:00,” and goes on to tell me where there’s a bathroom, water fountain and pop machine, should I need any of those things. I sat back down in the waiting room and did the inventory. The questions were insane. Like am I afraid of medical procedures or devices. Am I lying about my answers to make myself look better? Are you sure you’re not afraid of medical procedures? It had NO relevance to me or WLS. It was 150 questions and I was done in 15 minutes. I put my paperwork in the designated box and walked out. I passed the dr in the hall as I was leaving and she was all “are you taking a break?” And I was all, “no, I’m leaving. I’m done.” She was shocked and asked if I finished the inventory. I said “yes. it wasn’t hard or anything.”
I got in the car, called Gerald and bitched about how I could have been on my way home over an hour ago if only the dumbass dr had given me a freakin’ #2 pencil. Although, I probably definitely used quite a few more swear words in there.
So, she’s going to call me this week to schedule the second part of the eval which is “an interview” with her. Like I’m trying to get a job or something. WHATEV. I’ll be sure to bring a #2 pencil with me next time.
True Story. The End.
OMG! That’s crazy. They should be the ones doing a psyc eval. Ugh, I’m be peeved too.
This SUCKS, particularly the part where there were not inkblots. Maybe that’s next time.
The inventory ASKED YOU IF YOU WERE LYING? You have to say Yes to that. You just do.
Is it just me, or is this EASY MONEY for the therapist, bordering on Shady?
For real! Totally shady!
And yes, it asked if I was lying at least FIVE times in the 150 questions! I just sat there and wondered who in the hell would say “yes.” I mean, isn’t the whole point of lying to not let the other person know you’re lying? I mean, isn’t the “lying” part supposed to be a secret?
ugh - gah what a waste of time. How did she think it was going to take you another hour and a half? It’s questions about YOU - it isn’t a math test or something . . . hope the next appt is . . . more fun? interesting? LESS RICICULOUS?
or ridiculous if you prefer real words . . .
wha? That is messed up.
Fana - I do not prefer real words. Feel free to make up words here all the time. : )
I have relatives in Sweden, and these are the stories that they get in the local news about Americans. They think we are all insane, and I have to remind them that there are 300 million people in the US and only a very small % of us actually do stuff like that.
Mimi - Perhaps the problem for me is that all of that small % live here in Texas. All of them.
And apparently one couple in Ness City, Kansas.
First of all, that news story?!?! My mouth is still hanging open. WTF, indeed!
Secondly, I would have done the same as you, waiting for my pencil, seething. ARG. Totally shady and what’s with the lying questions?!!? Were they trying to sneak another one up on you like…. are you lying on this evaluation? are you worried about the surgery? do you fear doctors? ARE YOU LYING?!?!
Maybe all that was a set up to test the crazy factor, to see how quickly you would turn on the crazy if pushed beyond reasonable limits. At least that part is over and now you can not look forward to the rest.
Holy crap, that’s ridiculous! I don’t even know what I would have done - probably the exact same thing. Maybe called the office from the lobby, but I probably wouldn’t even have the balls to try that. By the time I actually would have received the pencil and started the test, I would have been pressing so hard on the paper it would have set off some kind of psycho-rage trigger independent of how I answered the questions!
I’m glad you made it through without killing anyone.
Jenna - That’s EXACTLY how it was! They just kept sneaking in those “lying” questions randomly, like they were trying to trip me up. I should have answered “yes” to the last one like “ok! you finally got me!”
Shelly - I thought about that, too! I kept looking around the waiting room wondering if there were hidden cameras. Like they were testing how I’d react to the lack of pencil. Maybe I should have thrown some magazines around in a fit or something.
Becky - I felt like such a tool. Just sitting there, fuming and not doing a damn thing about it. I’m so weak. Next time, I’m totally going to Hulk-out.
Okay, I NEED TO KNOW why he didn’t call anyone for TWO YEARS. Also, it seems like it can’t be true.
In the waiting room, I would have assumed it was part of the test. That’s exactly the kind of test psych students do.
Also, wouldn’t it be psychologically healthy to be nervous about surgery?
So you had to pay this woman all that money to run a scan-tron through a scan-tron reading machine? I so picked the wrong profession.
2 YEARS? I hope she flushed!
About the test, YUCK! Could that have sucked any worse?
HUGS!
grace
Swistle - And he didn’t think perhaps she needed some sort of professional help? If someone pulled that stunt on me, I’d have called after a day. Unless we only had one bathroom. Then she’d have gotten 20 minutes, tops.
The questions about surgical fear were of the paranoia variety. Not normal nervousness. Which I have… considering the fact that I felt the last surgery I had.
Grace - No, it could not have sucked worse if it tried.
I think after about twenty minutes I would have been roaming the halls searching for someone, ANYONE to shake violently and demand where the heck my freakin’ pencil was! You were PATIENT.
Dude. Both stories boggle my mind.
I, too, would’ve assumed that it was part of the test. ha ha! Crazy shit, that.
That sounds…worthy of sticking a #2 somewhere where the sun don’t shine (on her, I mean). Bitch.
And that article…weirdness never ceases.
I did not have to do a psych eval prior to my weight loss surgery. Guess I was lucky! I promise you may regret the psych eval, but you will never regret the surgery! Best thing I ever did!
I’m getting me a #2 pencil, and taking it with me from now on!
Huggs
Theresa