Monday, October 19, 2009
The Travel Clinic
The Oschner Travel Clinic is a way for someone to make a lot of money. I had an "interview" with one Dr. Ruben Fabrega, a nice looking older Panamanian. I had written down all the medicines I take plus a copy of where we would be going and what we would be doing. The nurse took it from me upon my arrival. When he appeared in the room, his first question was, "Whie jew wanna go Tie Lan?" As I was answering, he was reading from something that someone had printed from the internet about what immunizations were needed for travel in Thailand. He even had me look at it cause he was confused over Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai - "vitch won jew gone?" He explained a few things about what he thought I needed and why, then asked if I had any questions. He said the nurse would take over from there and was out the door. Of course, while I was waiting for the nurse, I thought of some questions so had to ask her when she came in. Her main purpose was to tell me how much everything costs before they did it. They had explained on the phone that the doctor interview was $65 and the nurse visit, no matter how many shots or what she did, was $31. None of this was covered by insurance. I was OK up to this point. Then she looked up the cost of the shots I was being given - whew! It might be cheaper to get Hepatitus and/or Typhoid! I was then ushered into the chemotherapy room where I had a moment of......silence....dread......deja vu.......insight.......perception......flash forward......empathy........and enlightenment. I got a shot in each arm - Typhoid and Hepatitus (by now, which letter - A, B, C, or D, I'm not sure) along with a prescription for Cipro (in case of anthrax, I guess or debilitating diahrea...) and doxycyclene for malaria. The bill came to $496.38 and is now being processed thru Discover Card. I think I was overcharged but didn't want to make a big scene as the natives were restless when another white woman called them "colored girls" after another disputed bill right before me. I just signed my name, thanked them profusely, took my receipt and left. Wil called the insurance company this morning and they said to submit the bill and it would go on our deductible so we may recoup some of it. All this in a time span of 40 minutes! But I should never get hepatitis, I've got 10 years on the typhoid, 8 years left on the tetanus, a month of malaria protection and I could save one person from Anthrax.......
Paying a ticket in Baton Rouge.....
Well, folks, if you are a proponent of nationalized health care, get yourself a speeding ticket in Baton Rouge and try to do the right thing by appearing in traffic court to pay it. This is government incompetence in all it's glory. I got a speeding ticket on August 13, at 3:50 in the afternoon on North Boulevard coming home from work in downtown Baton Rouge. The only reason I was on North Blvd. is due to construction I couldn't turn on Florida St. I saw the speed limit was 40 and proceeded to do that until a motorcycle cop walked out in front of me and I had to screech to a stop to keep from hitting him. He motioned me over to the side street where there were several other cars with policemen giving tickets. He told me I was going 41 mph and I said yes, that's the posted speed limit. "Not in a school zone!" "Pardon me officer, was there a flashing sign?" "Just a posted sign." "Where is the school?" "License and registration" (no please....) I asked twice more where the school was and where was the posted sign with no answer. He was a smartass. School had only started less than a week before; the time was 3:50 p.m., no school in sight. But I was going 41, granted, so I thought this is my first ticket, I'll just pay it. Besides in order to fight it, I would have to be in court on Nov. 2 and that's when I plan on being in Bangkok. It was a set-up.....
So, Wil was off today and I said, "Why don't you drive me downtown and then I won't have to pay to park. You can just drive around the block while I run in to pay it." HA! He dropped me off at the Government Building on 3rd Street and I went in. I stopped at the information/security desk to ask where I was supposed to go: no one there. I guess they don't give out information or have security on Fridays anymore. I waited for a minute for the shoe shine man to come back but apparently he doesn't work on Fridays either. So I saw a cleaning lady and asked her. She's in line for the next opening for information/security because she asked the all important question, "Who give you da ticket? - da Share-eeff or da Poe-leece?" I replied, "The Baton Rouge Police." "Well, Honey, you in da wrong place. You wants to be cross da street in da City Hall. Go on now!" So I troop across the street to City Hall. Where apparently they do not get Fridays off for any reason. I was accosted by four big burly security guards and a metal detector that would rival any of those at BRT airport. I asked the first one, "Where do I go to pay a traffic ticket?" and was rewarded with, "Is that a cell phone in your pocket?" "Take everything out of your pants pockets!" "Put your purse on the conveyor belt!" and "You can't bring a cell phone in here. What's wrong with you, lady?" WHEW!!! I said quietly and politely, "I've never been here before. I'll have to take this out to my husband in the car. I'm sorry." And behind my back as I'm going out the door, I hear a sort of "Geesh - old white lady....what the fu..." Of course, Wil thinks, "Wow, that was fast" as he pulls around the corner to pick me up. Another HA! I deposit everything but my ticket, credit card and ID in the car and go back inside where I still had to take my glasses off and put them with the aforementioned items in a red plastic food basket (the only thing missing was the fries and wax paper) so they could scan it while I went thru the metal detector. The guard said Room 145 when I asked again where to pay a traffic ticket. It was plainly marked with a large sign and cordoned off like a ride at Disney and had 8, count em 8 windows for paying a ticket with attendants at most of them. Or so I thought......
I was next in line, miracle of all miracles, and a woman called "Next!" and I walked up and handed her the ticket. She looked at it, then looked at me and said, "Whut chu wanna do: pay it?" "Yes" I answer. "oK" she says as she staples the two pieces of paper together and hands it back to me. "See da cashier behind you."
Oh my! The cashier was located in a little tiny hallway (like an afterthought or something) with two cramped windows and two very large women sitting behind them. A whole office of people were talking on the phones, playing, and laughing behind them but it appeared that perhaps these two had drawn the short straws and were the only ones working on this day. And they weren't too happy about it. There were ten people ahead of me in line along with three attendants in more professional uniforms helping (?) another two people in an alcove that I missed on first inspection. This could take some time..... and there was only one other white face on the whole first floor - a junkie I think or at the very least a redneck. I'm thinking it might be good practice for my upcoming trip as it was very hard to understand what the masses were saying. And I think the natives were getting restless! Two people were actually being helped by the cashiers but the group was in on the transactions. The woman on the left didn't have enough cash to pay her fine, being short by $7. So she was making arrangements to go back outside and find someone to get the rest of the money from. She looked at everyone in line but nobody was offering. (If only I had brought my purse in, I would have given her the other $7 but....) The woman on the right was complaining about the red light cameras as this was what her violation was. She had almost everyone in line agreeing with her that they are bogus and go off when the light is green: "Dey flashin all da time - everytime a car goes thru - whether it's red or green" "Yeah, all up and down every street in Baker and Zachary. You can't go out without having dat flash goin off all round ya." "Yeah, I swear dat light was green when I drove tru it! I wanna fight dis ticket." "OK, m'am, let me bring up the video." And the cashier proceeded to produce the video of the woman running the red light. Which she had to show again and again so that everyone in line could see it. And they all had a good laugh at the woman's expense who had to agree that yes, that was her in that car and yes, well, I guess I did go thru it when it was red......How much is that ticket again? And then had to have someone else write it out for her; I don't think she could read or write. She waddled away on her cane and the cashier yelled:
"Next!" Well, the next guy wanted to pay cash and get a receipt - nothing doing - no receipts - your ticket acts as your receipt. He wasn't too happy. "Next!" The next guy had been in the process of paying when one of the more official looking people called him out of line for some reason - this apparently happened just before I arrived. So he was now back in line to pay with a credit card which he argued they had already swiped once. This went on for some time. Two people got disgusted and left. Two more people were called out of line by some more official looking people and taken off down the hall - one I had heard say while standing there that he had over $1500 in tickets over 3 years and had just come into some money so he thought he'd get them all paid. (I thought this was traffic court - how in the world do you accumulate $1500 worth of tickets in 3 years?????) I never saw them again.
"Next!" The next man tried to pay but was told there was a bench warrant out for his arrest. "You need to go to Room Such and Such to get that straightened out. And then come back here." They couldn't do anything for him there. I didn't want to watch to see him scoot out the door for fear I might be an accessory after the fact. So I never saw him again and couldn't even give a good description if I had to. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Someone else left. A different official person came out the door and asked me and the person in front of me for our documents which we gave. Not sure that was a good idea but there were lots of armed people about, so we gave them up. She took them back into the locked room and they called "Next!" This was a nicely dressed young black man with a check to pay his ticket. The girl said, "OK, I need some ID for this check." Well, the check is from my dad. He's paying my ticket." "Oh, I can't do that. You have to pay it yourself." "Well, I'm a student and he said he would pay it for me and to get a receipt." "I can't accept this check if it's not from you and we don't give receipts." After some back and forth dialogue concerning the fact that he was a junior and his father was a senior so our ID's are the same name, he said, "How about if I bring my father in here?" and to that, she was agreeable. So he left to find his father never to return during the time I was there.
Now, I think it's my turn since the girl who took my ticket has returned it to the space between the two cashiers behind the bars and I'm the next one in line but oh, no, I would be wrong. She yells, "Next!" and the guy behind me jumps up there and hands her his ticket. I just give off a big sigh cause what are you gonna do???? I've noticed in the eternity that I've standing here that credit card payments seem to be the easiest and most secure way to do business with the Traffic Court even though they charge an extra 5% as at least you have a record and a receipt that you paid when you leave. So this poor guy must have realized the same thing or be a repeat offender as he hands over his ticket and his Visa card at the same time and slam, bam, thank you, m'am, he's done. Hurray - my turn finally!!!!
I walk up before she can yell "Next!" and say, my ticket was taken from me in line and it's laying right there next to your right hand. "Whut??? Oh, I sees it. How you wanna pay?" "How much is it, first of all?" "$125." "OK, I'll char..." "Ty-juan-evita, you have a phone call....." nnnnnnoooooo I think to myself but don't show any outward expression of anger, frustration, bigotry or racism as Ty-juan-evita picks up the phone at her station and proceeds to listen for a while to someone on the other end. I'm thinking probably her child has contracted the swine flu at school or her mother has had a heart attack or her current boyfriend has been involved in an accident but no, no, no, Ty-juan-evita is listening to someone who is asking her to purchase something, perhaps a little on the expensive side as her response is, "Well, no, Ah doan tink ah whant to git dat rat now as ah doan hev da monay rat now............... Noah, ah gots beals to pay end ah doan whant to git moe behine.........well, mebbee ahl tink on it sum...........yuse kin call me beck.............yeah, dis number be ok......yeah, yoo tink?????.........." And some more of this type of conversation as I'm shifting from one foot to the other waiting for her to get done with this call. I shoved my credit card and my ID in closer to her thinking maybe she can do two things at once but I'm not really sure she was capable of doing that or on second thought even if it's a good idea. At any rate, she finally got off the phone and ran my card. She had me sign as she handed my card back to me and I just kept standing there waiting for my receipt. I don't think she was going to give it to me until I asked for it but I did get it. I thanked her immensely - you never know when you might get another ticket and I don't want a bad reputation here - and started to walk out what I thought was the exit.
At least it was a huge red sign over two of the front doors that said in big white letters EXIT. The biggest burliest policeman stepped in front of me as I was heading towards the door and said, "Are you leaving?" Oh-my-god-yes-please-please-just-let-me-get-out-of-here-before-I-do-something-that-I-will-regret........"Yes, sir!" "Well, this is not an exit." "But the big red sign says Exit.....do not exit...." tell me, why would you put up a red "do not exit" sign when every other public building in the world has red Exit signs over the actual exits???? I apologized and said, "You know, I've never been here before and I hope to God, I never have to come back again." I'm sure they feel the same way. And for the record there was no "Exit" sign over the actual exit.
So the point of this whole story is this: if these are the sort of people who will be running our national health care, someone just shoot me now and get it over with. Or do as I've always said: find me a vet when the time comes and just put me to sleep! I really don't want to be sick and have to have this same sort of experience. We'll all die in line.
So, Wil was off today and I said, "Why don't you drive me downtown and then I won't have to pay to park. You can just drive around the block while I run in to pay it." HA! He dropped me off at the Government Building on 3rd Street and I went in. I stopped at the information/security desk to ask where I was supposed to go: no one there. I guess they don't give out information or have security on Fridays anymore. I waited for a minute for the shoe shine man to come back but apparently he doesn't work on Fridays either. So I saw a cleaning lady and asked her. She's in line for the next opening for information/security because she asked the all important question, "Who give you da ticket? - da Share-eeff or da Poe-leece?" I replied, "The Baton Rouge Police." "Well, Honey, you in da wrong place. You wants to be cross da street in da City Hall. Go on now!" So I troop across the street to City Hall. Where apparently they do not get Fridays off for any reason. I was accosted by four big burly security guards and a metal detector that would rival any of those at BRT airport. I asked the first one, "Where do I go to pay a traffic ticket?" and was rewarded with, "Is that a cell phone in your pocket?" "Take everything out of your pants pockets!" "Put your purse on the conveyor belt!" and "You can't bring a cell phone in here. What's wrong with you, lady?" WHEW!!! I said quietly and politely, "I've never been here before. I'll have to take this out to my husband in the car. I'm sorry." And behind my back as I'm going out the door, I hear a sort of "Geesh - old white lady....what the fu..." Of course, Wil thinks, "Wow, that was fast" as he pulls around the corner to pick me up. Another HA! I deposit everything but my ticket, credit card and ID in the car and go back inside where I still had to take my glasses off and put them with the aforementioned items in a red plastic food basket (the only thing missing was the fries and wax paper) so they could scan it while I went thru the metal detector. The guard said Room 145 when I asked again where to pay a traffic ticket. It was plainly marked with a large sign and cordoned off like a ride at Disney and had 8, count em 8 windows for paying a ticket with attendants at most of them. Or so I thought......
I was next in line, miracle of all miracles, and a woman called "Next!" and I walked up and handed her the ticket. She looked at it, then looked at me and said, "Whut chu wanna do: pay it?" "Yes" I answer. "oK" she says as she staples the two pieces of paper together and hands it back to me. "See da cashier behind you."
Oh my! The cashier was located in a little tiny hallway (like an afterthought or something) with two cramped windows and two very large women sitting behind them. A whole office of people were talking on the phones, playing, and laughing behind them but it appeared that perhaps these two had drawn the short straws and were the only ones working on this day. And they weren't too happy about it. There were ten people ahead of me in line along with three attendants in more professional uniforms helping (?) another two people in an alcove that I missed on first inspection. This could take some time..... and there was only one other white face on the whole first floor - a junkie I think or at the very least a redneck. I'm thinking it might be good practice for my upcoming trip as it was very hard to understand what the masses were saying. And I think the natives were getting restless! Two people were actually being helped by the cashiers but the group was in on the transactions. The woman on the left didn't have enough cash to pay her fine, being short by $7. So she was making arrangements to go back outside and find someone to get the rest of the money from. She looked at everyone in line but nobody was offering. (If only I had brought my purse in, I would have given her the other $7 but....) The woman on the right was complaining about the red light cameras as this was what her violation was. She had almost everyone in line agreeing with her that they are bogus and go off when the light is green: "Dey flashin all da time - everytime a car goes thru - whether it's red or green" "Yeah, all up and down every street in Baker and Zachary. You can't go out without having dat flash goin off all round ya." "Yeah, I swear dat light was green when I drove tru it! I wanna fight dis ticket." "OK, m'am, let me bring up the video." And the cashier proceeded to produce the video of the woman running the red light. Which she had to show again and again so that everyone in line could see it. And they all had a good laugh at the woman's expense who had to agree that yes, that was her in that car and yes, well, I guess I did go thru it when it was red......How much is that ticket again? And then had to have someone else write it out for her; I don't think she could read or write. She waddled away on her cane and the cashier yelled:
"Next!" Well, the next guy wanted to pay cash and get a receipt - nothing doing - no receipts - your ticket acts as your receipt. He wasn't too happy. "Next!" The next guy had been in the process of paying when one of the more official looking people called him out of line for some reason - this apparently happened just before I arrived. So he was now back in line to pay with a credit card which he argued they had already swiped once. This went on for some time. Two people got disgusted and left. Two more people were called out of line by some more official looking people and taken off down the hall - one I had heard say while standing there that he had over $1500 in tickets over 3 years and had just come into some money so he thought he'd get them all paid. (I thought this was traffic court - how in the world do you accumulate $1500 worth of tickets in 3 years?????) I never saw them again.
"Next!" The next man tried to pay but was told there was a bench warrant out for his arrest. "You need to go to Room Such and Such to get that straightened out. And then come back here." They couldn't do anything for him there. I didn't want to watch to see him scoot out the door for fear I might be an accessory after the fact. So I never saw him again and couldn't even give a good description if I had to. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Someone else left. A different official person came out the door and asked me and the person in front of me for our documents which we gave. Not sure that was a good idea but there were lots of armed people about, so we gave them up. She took them back into the locked room and they called "Next!" This was a nicely dressed young black man with a check to pay his ticket. The girl said, "OK, I need some ID for this check." Well, the check is from my dad. He's paying my ticket." "Oh, I can't do that. You have to pay it yourself." "Well, I'm a student and he said he would pay it for me and to get a receipt." "I can't accept this check if it's not from you and we don't give receipts." After some back and forth dialogue concerning the fact that he was a junior and his father was a senior so our ID's are the same name, he said, "How about if I bring my father in here?" and to that, she was agreeable. So he left to find his father never to return during the time I was there.
Now, I think it's my turn since the girl who took my ticket has returned it to the space between the two cashiers behind the bars and I'm the next one in line but oh, no, I would be wrong. She yells, "Next!" and the guy behind me jumps up there and hands her his ticket. I just give off a big sigh cause what are you gonna do???? I've noticed in the eternity that I've standing here that credit card payments seem to be the easiest and most secure way to do business with the Traffic Court even though they charge an extra 5% as at least you have a record and a receipt that you paid when you leave. So this poor guy must have realized the same thing or be a repeat offender as he hands over his ticket and his Visa card at the same time and slam, bam, thank you, m'am, he's done. Hurray - my turn finally!!!!
I walk up before she can yell "Next!" and say, my ticket was taken from me in line and it's laying right there next to your right hand. "Whut??? Oh, I sees it. How you wanna pay?" "How much is it, first of all?" "$125." "OK, I'll char..." "Ty-juan-evita, you have a phone call....." nnnnnnoooooo I think to myself but don't show any outward expression of anger, frustration, bigotry or racism as Ty-juan-evita picks up the phone at her station and proceeds to listen for a while to someone on the other end. I'm thinking probably her child has contracted the swine flu at school or her mother has had a heart attack or her current boyfriend has been involved in an accident but no, no, no, Ty-juan-evita is listening to someone who is asking her to purchase something, perhaps a little on the expensive side as her response is, "Well, no, Ah doan tink ah whant to git dat rat now as ah doan hev da monay rat now............... Noah, ah gots beals to pay end ah doan whant to git moe behine.........well, mebbee ahl tink on it sum...........yuse kin call me beck.............yeah, dis number be ok......yeah, yoo tink?????.........." And some more of this type of conversation as I'm shifting from one foot to the other waiting for her to get done with this call. I shoved my credit card and my ID in closer to her thinking maybe she can do two things at once but I'm not really sure she was capable of doing that or on second thought even if it's a good idea. At any rate, she finally got off the phone and ran my card. She had me sign as she handed my card back to me and I just kept standing there waiting for my receipt. I don't think she was going to give it to me until I asked for it but I did get it. I thanked her immensely - you never know when you might get another ticket and I don't want a bad reputation here - and started to walk out what I thought was the exit.
At least it was a huge red sign over two of the front doors that said in big white letters EXIT. The biggest burliest policeman stepped in front of me as I was heading towards the door and said, "Are you leaving?" Oh-my-god-yes-please-please-just-let-me-get-out-of-here-before-I-do-something-that-I-will-regret........"Yes, sir!" "Well, this is not an exit." "But the big red sign says Exit.....do not exit...." tell me, why would you put up a red "do not exit" sign when every other public building in the world has red Exit signs over the actual exits???? I apologized and said, "You know, I've never been here before and I hope to God, I never have to come back again." I'm sure they feel the same way. And for the record there was no "Exit" sign over the actual exit.
So the point of this whole story is this: if these are the sort of people who will be running our national health care, someone just shoot me now and get it over with. Or do as I've always said: find me a vet when the time comes and just put me to sleep! I really don't want to be sick and have to have this same sort of experience. We'll all die in line.
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