Last week, I had my final appointment at the allergist.

In retrospect, I am trying to justify my actions of returning for the third time, after having gone in twice before to maskless wonders, called Public Health on them twice, and confronted people semi-directly

(Me: Why isn’t the receptionist wearing a mask? Shots admin: I don’t know. I guess she doesn’t like them)

—my stubborn pigheadedness of deliberately returning and causing a scene, my mad fixation to speak with the doctor. All this, while my good husband very reasonably said all along in a quiet and nurturing tone (about five thousand times total), “Just find another allergist.”

But I didn’t. I went in last week to speak with the allergist directly.

When I arrived, SURPRISE! two people behind the reception desk, not wearing masks. Air conditioning blowing wildly. In the waiting room, several elderly patients, all wearing masks like NBD.

When I was called back for shots, I asked the shot administrator if it were possible for me to give the shots myself.

She said, “No. And you can’t escape me, if that’s what you’re thinking. I do the shots at the other allergist as well.”

“It’s not you,” I said, surprised by her response, sorry to have offended her. The shot admin was wearing a mask. “It’s the people not wearing masks in front.”

“Well, I just wear this,” she gestured to her mask, “for show. They don’t actually work.”

“What do you mean?”

I was like… thunderstruck? She was in scrubs. She had a needle in her hand and a mask on, working in a doctor’s office. These cues would suggest she’d opened some sort of medical textbook post high school biology. Maybe she had some insider information.

“Well,” she gestured again. “Because of your eyes. And you know. The air gets in.”

My drama lama kicked in, because I gasped total Mrs. Oleson, LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE style (my formative childhood soap opera) and said, “You’re a medical professional!”

like HOW DARE.

I tried to smooth things over (why? Why would I do this? I really cannot account for my behavior that day) by saying, “Well thank you… for wearing a mask… Even if you don’t… believe in them?”

She made a noise. I don’t know if she intended to convey, “Shut the fuck up with trying to smooth this over” but I definitely STFU as a result.

From shots, I was escorted to the private waiting room. When a second assistant came in to take my vitals, now wearing a mask, she said in a chipper follow-my-song-and-dance tone, “So, everyone wearing masks where you’ve been?”

“No,” I couldn’t believe the question. She had been one of the people not wearing a mask when I’d come in. “People in this office aren’t wearing masks.”

She gave me a look like I had definitely broken the social contract with my answer.

Fucking trapped in a modern day Young Goodman Brown, I thought.

She remained painfully silent for the rest of the exam, except to say, “Your blood pressure is extremely high today.”

Well, no shit, lady.

When the doctor came in, I asked the questions I was there for: 1) can I give myself the shots (no) 2) Can I take my serum with me, or do I lose it when I transfer to another office?

At this point, the doctor asked why I was asking. I told him about people in the office not wearing masks. He assumed I was talking about other patients in the waiting room.

He bellowed to the receptionist, “GET IN HERE.”

She arrived, wearing a mask for THE FIRST TIME EVER. He started yelling at her about making sure the waiting room is completely masked.

I interrupted. MY MOMENT. MY VINDICTIVE MOMENT. And said, “all due respect. The patients all wear masks. It’s HER. She’s the one I see who never wears a mask.”

And I literally pointed my finger at her like I was a snitch in open court/a witch over a bubbling brew cursing someone/in kindergarten tattling. IT’S HERRRRRRRRR

She turned around and walked out without a word, without the doctor finishing whatever tirade he was gonna go on.

He apologized profusely, saying if I ever saw anyone without a mask, I could waltz past the check in, into the back of the building, to his office, and report them. Code phrase: I HAD A GERBIL TO SELL THE DOC.

I rolled my eyes, like yeah right. I’m not getting the cops called on me for busting through the barrier.

Maybe if he put me on $$$ retainer, but I’m not looking to unpaid intern as a snitch in his office. Plus, like get your shit together, buddy. They were maskless while he was sitting in his room doing paperwork.

When I did that, the eye-rolling yeah right thing, he shouted, SHE’S A MONKEY. SHE’LL DO WHAT I ASK.

Which I know she probably heard through the thin-ass door.

He was like, “You’re staying? Good. It’s settled.” And there was no way I was going to argue with him. “Sign up with (monkey) for a six month check in.”

He opened the door and I noped right out of there all the way home.

Back at the house, I told my harrowing story of woe. And for the fiftieth time, my husband was like, “Hey, why are you going through all this? Just switch offices.”

And I guess that’s my learning curve plotted out, because finally I was like, “OH YEAH. GOOD IDEA.”

I called the other office and asked them three times if they really wore masks over there.

(Me: “Like, do you say you wear masks, or do you actually really wear masks, because I don’t want to switch and have the same issue.” Receptionist: “Dear god, yes.”)

So maybe I just set myself up to have a little red star on the top of my chart, or however they indicate they think the new patient is PROBLEMATIC FROM THE GIT-GO.

I felt a little out of my own body afterwords. I don’t think I’ve ever busted into an office and conflicted with every single person with whom I’ve come in contact. The aftermath felt the way I can only imagine black-out drunks may feel. Like, did I actually do that? I remember it happening, but it all seems so unlike me.

I started wondering if maybe the shots admin was right, that I was this huge fool who’d bought into the whirlwind of masks being worth a damn. What if it all came out in the end that they were ineffectual and I was truly a Mrs. Oleson type shitting a brick over some harmless fear the rest of the world laughed over? I mean, they must believe that, if every time I go back, they still aren’t wearing masks.

Anyway, my last interaction was going in today to sign a Release Authorization so I could move to the new allergist. Progress! They knew I was coming as I’d called ahead so they’d have that stuff ready and I could get in and out ASAP.

Got there, same old story. This time, the shots admin wore her mask over one ear, hanging down. She gestured for me to come get something she was holding out.

I said, “Please put on your mask,” which shocked me, because I thought I was just going to get in and out and not cause a hoopla over some known quantity.

She said, “Yeah, sure.” And then didn’t put on her mask. “Actually, why don’t you wait for a minute, and I’ll get all your stuff ready.”

So I left back to the main waiting room for about 5 minutes as she saw another patient and then got my stuff in order. To her credit, she was wearing a mask properly when she ultimately handed me my bon voyage package. And then in a very snarky voice, said, “I’ll see you at the other place.”

So I guess… I dunno. There might be a Season 2 to this stupid fucking inside-out world where I’m the asshole for wanting someone to wear a mask in a medical building? Or maybe I drive two towns over for medical treatment? Maybe I just agree to allergy coma next spring.

Anyway, there’s a lot of other stuff going on, lots of it stressful, and mostly stuff I can’t talk about because it involves people who don’t want their shit all over the internet. But I will say I had the boobie squish test this week as well and GOOD NEWS EVERYBODY. My boobs look normal. AND when I went in for the test, everybody there was wearing a mask. Huzzah!

Also, husband and I are watching OZARK, and we are to the season where my husband dead pans, “Why doesn’t the cartel just kill them all and start over?” once an episode. All guesses on which season that is welcome in comments!