In the Fall of 2016 I set out to find a new OBGYN (my old one was in Westchester and had informed me the year prior that she was no longer delivering babies, so it seemed like the perfect time to switch). To say the search was like finding a needle in a haystack is really sugar coating it. Finding an OBGYN in Manhattan who is 1- accepting new patients 2- takes your insurance and 3 - will actually follow your care and not rotate you through the practice’ 19 other doctors is more difficult than winning the hunger games. On my 11th phone call (no exaggeration) I was successful and felt like I'd won the lottery. I booked an appointment for 2 months later and called it a day.
On the day of my appointment I sprung out of bed like it was the first day of school. I arrived at the office at 10:45, 15 minutes ahead of schedule, thankyouverymuch. As the clock struck 11, I excitedly waited for my name to be called. I checked email, scrolled Instagram, bided my time. When 11:15 rolled around I remained optimistic, pshh every doctor runs 15 minutes behind. At 11:30 I was beginning to get antsy. By 12 I had rounded the corner of starving and was rapidly approaching the intersection of annoyed and over it. By 12:30, the hunger games were looking pretty good. By 1 the waiting room had dwindled from 10 to 3 and I checked in at the desk (again) only to be told "it shouldn't be much longer".
Finally at 1:30, a mere 2 hours and 30 minutes after my scheduled appointment, my name was called. I was led back through a small hallway into the doctor's office and told she would be in shortly. Finally, the door opened and the doctor walked in. She apologized for the wait to which I sheepishly replied "it's ok" when in reality I was thinking “lady you have no idea how close I came to a melt down”. She explained she had had two new patients that morning and an emergency so she had gotten behind. I liked that she addressed the issue and didn’t rush through my time with her. We went through the basics and talked about my plans to start a family. I told her we were a few months off and hoped to get pregnant that summer (it was December). After a quick exam, a brief discussion about birth control and a “call me when you don’t get your period” I was off, thrust onto the streets of the upper east side into the pre-evening glow of NYC winters. Never mind I had arrived in the morning, never mind I hadn’t eaten all day, never mind it took 10 unsuccessful phone calls to find her, never mind I literally waited in her office all day, this is sure to be the start of a beautiful friendship.