The most arrogant, condescending, self-indulgent, knowledge-challenged excuse of a doctor I have encountered in my long life. Every time I went to see Dr. Zachariah, it involved an hour, give or take, before His Majesty enters the room. Even as the first appointment of the day, with no patient ahead of me, He was very late. Never expect an apology because his time (since he seems to think he's God, I will use capital H henceforth) is valuable; yours is not. Don't expect much in the way of privacy. Read the review of Dina W. The same thing happened to me- I heard Him call out an oxycodone prescription, yelling it down the hallway to one of his office munchkins... revolving-door, short-term cuties, and intermittently His plump drifter son, who all belong in a medical office like I belong behind a console at NASA. Don't expect your examination room door to be closed unless you ask. And I've always heard what was going on in the adjacent rooms; it wasn't pretty. I saw a female… patient's personal information on a monitor's screen that was left on. As with Dina W., Dr. Zachariah liked to gossip about His other patients with me. (At least he didn't name them.) He also divulged that His son is a worry-causing couch loafer, that some of His staff aren't bright, and that He doesn't pay His girls much... like I couldn't guess all three. I admit that I encouraged this sort of chatter (see next paragraph.) His office is threadbare, unprofessional, unwelcoming.
His patients are often non-English-speaking foreigners, and not exactly the classiest, most educated of natives, and it is apparent from Dr. Zachariah's demeanor that He believes He is slumming. In no way does that change the paradigm of who is working for whom. It is the government entitlements, private insurance, and co-pays of the peasantry- myself included- that enriches Him for- in my case- the briefest, most cursory of visits. His Majesty often left the room without saying goodbye and that He had no intention of coming back. He talked much but didn't listen. He did not look at the lab results that were sent to him. He made not the slightest effort to understand the state of my health. I tolerated His minimalist ways and kept returning because He was good for one thing. For seven years, I would make appointments on the vaguest of pretexts, then chat Him up into a good mood and get Vicodin scripts for no good medical reason (again, see Dina W's review) but it reached the stage where getting high on insurance-covered hydrocodone wasn't enough to justify my going back. The tipping point: without informing me, He fooled around with my insurance claim, getting me disallowed twice for a procedure for which I was covered. I informed Him I was 100% covered for an EKG only if submitted as routine, not for a medical diagnosis. He refused to believe me and lectured me about the insurance of other patients. He ordered the EKG coded as not routine. It got denied. He ordered it again, not routine; it was denied again. His Majesty didn't tell me what he did; I only found out from the hospital and insurance company. This egotistical elohssa (spell it backwards) believed he was helping me save money since I was too dim-witted to comprehend my own policy. His combo plate of arrogance and ignorance was making me pay for something I should have gotten free. After much time and effort, I eventually got my free EKG, thanks to the aid of the office Mama-san. She knew I was getting the shaft, and instead of getting me denied a third time, she worked with me- not against me- in submitting a claim. But when I found out that this schmuck was costing me money because he thought I'm illiterate, I knew that all the Vicodin in the world wouldn't bring me back to Zachariah. He had asked me the astonishing question "Are you under Obama Care?" It so happens that Obama Care, aka The Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act, is a federal law that regulates and sets standards for insurance. Obama Care is not insurance. There is no such thing as an Obama Care policy. One cannot enroll in anything called Obama Care. Has this person so much as read an ordinary newspaper since 2010 when the law took effect, or been even a little curious about it? When I asked Him what to do with several bottles of prescription medicine I was no longer using, His chilling response: "You can give it to a friend." Only somewhere like Central Valley, not exactly a mecca of higher learning and sophistication, would the locals not accurately perceive the quality of this person or his services.
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