The waiting room at the OB/GYN office sucks. It’s basically a cross between an episode of Teen Mom and a stockyard. I took a picture of it last time we were there:
We’re (hopefully) coming down to the tail end of our baby doctor experience here, which means there are only a few visits left. Which is good, because I’m pretty sure Karli would eventually shank someone if we had to go there much longer.
The top candidate for getting a shiv in the spleen is this one woman we’ve seen the last few times we’ve gone in. Every time we’ve* seen her, she’s complaining about something. And crying. And generally making a scene. Once it was because she couldn’t pee, so she wasn’t able to pee in the cup. The last time she was complaining about being in pain, which got her in quicker, but Karli heard her back in the exam room laughing and giggling and having a good old time to be out of the waiting room. Despite the fact that another woman there was likely in actual labor and not complaining a bit about it.
*I should say that Karli’s seen her. I try to busy myself on my phone so I don’t have to pay attention to the waiting room. Go to my happy place.
Karli knows her name, but I can’t remember what it is, mostly because I don’t really care. Something fantastically Okie, I assume—Destinee or Rose or Anndreeuh or Tina Sue. When we were at our birthing class, the instructor guy talked about how some people will try to fake contractions to be admitted sooner and get them to take the baby out sooner (but they can always tell the difference between fake and real ones). Karli wondered who would actually try doing something like that. Then she saw this woman.
From bits and pieces she’s picked up around the office, Karli has gathered that the woman is due right about now. So we’re hoping that we won’t have to see her again. Every time Karli tells the story, though, I pipe in with a helpful “We hate that bitch” at each mention of the lady and her incredible drama queeny bitchiness.
Karli told me not to let her get like that. She wants me to let her know when she’s acting like that woman. But here’s my question: Has anyone ever told something like that to his wife and lived to tell about it?