Arthur Ashe Center: Where Aspiring Doctors Go To Ignore Their Dream

If you're like me, you go to UCLA.  If you're even more like me, then you fucking hate the time wasting "doctors" of the Arthur Ashe Center.

As a man living in a fraternity house, I'm exposed to alot of germs.  As a man living in the UCLA Phi Psi house, I'm living in borderline third world conditions (seriously my room didn't have electricity for over a month, while I leeched it off an extension cord from the room above me).   But enough of this dumbass repeating of sentences and back to the rant.

The student health care here rivals that of most shitty HMOs.  Sure its cheap, but in this case you truly get what you pay for.  Not only does the service here suck, but it takes forever to get nothing.  If I wanted to wait around all day for something that should only take 5 minutes I would go to the DMV.

California DMV Westwood Branch

Half of the time I go there, the doctors give me no tests and tell me that they can do nothing for me, but that I must just wait out my sickness, all while not looking me in the face but typing on a computer.  I spend a lot of time on facebook too, but fuck, seriously?!?!  And everytime, the doctor tells me "come back in a week if you don't improve."  Ya well guess what you bottom of your med-school class piece of shit, this is the third time I've come back in three weeks and I'm still pissing blood!

This may seem a bit harsh and a bit over exaggerated, but I shit you not.  Last week I went in with a throbbing headache, stiff neck, and coughing up disgusting shit among other things.  This after two visits, weeks apart mind you, of similar complaints.  When my "primary care physician," as they call it, walked in she said "Hello, my name is (Bitch).  I'm a practitioner here."

"Really?  I've seen you multiple times, in fact two weeks ago!  And really, you work here?  I thought you were another patient waiting in this 10x10 room wearing a white lab coat," I thought.  As she did the least amount of work she could, she looked in my mouth and ears about the same amount of time she looked me in the face, just a second or two less than the time she took to scratch her ass, which I'm pretty sure defeats the purpose of putting on latex gloves.  Her solution?  Have another person come in and wash my ears out.  Afterward, my doctor returned from wiping her ass with a copy of the Hippocratic Oath and asked if I felt any better...As if cleaning my ears out would have any effect on my congestion or overall feeling like I'm about to die.

Security camera photo from Arthur Ashe Center archives

Following the script I'm sure every doctor there is programed to say, she told me to come back in a week if I didn't improve...a normally expected suggestion from these people, except for the fact that they fucking close for the rest of winter break that Friday.  I left, as always, heated as fuck.

At least it's not all bad, they give you all the free toothpaste and condoms that you want.  Plus while waiting I can catch up on some of my favorite magazines like AARP: The Magazine and The Republic...seriously give me something I can at least act like I'm reading, while I look at the pictures, as I wait.

Pretty sure poking holes and connecting them defeats their purpose

Arthur Ashe Center, you fucking suck!

New Direction

It's been a while since the last post and I've decided to take on a new direction.  Since everyone gets enough sports bullshit on ESPN and everywhere else I've decided to open the topics up to everything.  Sorry to my readership, mom, but it had to be done.

In short, from now on I will write about anything and everything.  This means observations on things I like, which are few,  and comments on things that piss me off, which are many.  For example, one day I may write why bad ass movies rock and the next I will go off on why Justin Bieber, whoever the fuck that is, deserves to get that Beatles haircut cut off and shoved down his throat.

So fuck you Earth, its time for Larson's World!