This morning I arrived early and eager at my doctor’s office for my annual physical. Early because that’s the best way of guaranteeing the doctor will be on time; for, as the day wears on, my experience has been that any doctor tends to get behind. This patient needs an extra five minutes here, that one needs ten there. If you’ve got a late afternoon appointment, you better bring a good book.

I was eager, not to see my doctor, but to get it over with, another reason for an early morning rendezvous that always includes prodding and poking after undressing and — oh, yes — the weight recording. I wasn’t going to ruin a perfectly good day looking forward to being checked over.

I have some theories about physicians and their practices, theories that have nothing to do with accreditation or bedside manner or even medical skill, although those are definitely all valuable criteria. However, those other things being equal, I think you can also choose a doctor by his or her office dйcor.

I’ve found that the more accoutrements the doctor has in the outer office, the more time you are apt to wait. If there is a coat rack, a water fountain, a mountain of current magazines, and comfy chairs . . . beware. You’re there for the duration. However, if the office is Spartan, it seems to mean you won’t be sitting there long. I’ve gone to doctors all my life; and, on the basis of personal experience, this is Axiom Number One.

Axiom Number Two revolves around time. My present physician is the first one ever to ask me to sign a paper that I would show up on time and that if I missed three appointments without letting his office know he could choose to terminate me from his practice. At my first meeting with him, I asked if he was equally committed to seeing me on time, as I’ve had physicians who think an hour’s wait adds extra importance to their examinations.

He assured me he made every effort to be on time, although he allowed that there could be mitigating circumstances. I’m not unreasonable about his; after all, if I were the mitigating circumstance, I’d want my doctor’s attention and I’d want it NOW. So I signed the paper and joined his fold.

In the four years I’ve gone to Dr. S., I’ve been kept waiting only once. That’s a pretty good record. And, when I approached the reception area to complain that I’d scheduled another appointment that I would now be late for, I was moved to the front of the line. Doctor personally came and got me from the waiting room. Which, for the record, has no coat rack, no water cooler, and no magazine rack.

The Sago Mine saga continues to unfold, as mining families begin to bury their loved ones and the sole survivor struggles for life. In the weeks to come, there will be recriminations all around.

For now, here is what I think.

Anderson Cooper deserves the award for the most insensitive journalist I’ve ever seen on TV. He was interviewing an obviously distraught woman with two children by her side; yet he positioned her for a better camera angle. He then drilled her to repeat and repeat what she had heard and seen. Couldn’t there be a better way to use a time slot?

The first news that the miners were alive was overestimated. I’ve read in two independent accounts that what was really reported was that the rescuers had found the miners and were taking vital signs. From this report grew the word that the miners were alive. Taking vital signs doesn’t guarantee that.

The command center for the rescue operation held conversations with the rescue team in the mine. Evidently, various people overheard those conversations and jumped to the conclusion that the miners were saved. From there, the word went out over cellphones to celebrate.

I find it ironic that my yesterday’s “Ten Minutes” was devoted to cellphones; and now it seems they have contributed to the miscommunication that occurred about the Sago Mine disaster. Misinformation sped rapidly over cellphones, when it would have been prudent to wait and make sure of the outcome.

Of course, it would not have been different if cellphones weren’t involved, because the miners were not dependent on their phones to survive. At the same time, the families who first celebrated their loved ones’ returns and then learned of the real fate went through an emotional ringer not seen since the first washing machine. I’m not sure any human can bear it without animosity.

So is this a polemic against cellphones? Not really. Rather it is a suggestion that when news breaks, it’s prudent to make sure it’s real and not some advertising or marketing or ratings ploy.

That’s one thing we should learn from the Sago Mine disaster.