Monday morning. Contemporary Troubadour dials the number of her future doctor's office at Almost Dr. Sis's medical school and places the phone to her ear. After three or four rings, someone answers.
Female Receptionist: [Laughing loudly at something] "Hello? ThisisFemaleReceptionisthowmayIhelpyou?"
Contemporary Troubadour: "Hi. This is Contemporary Troubadour; I called --"
F. Receptionist: "Hold on." Click.
A slight hiss is just audible from the phone, indicating that the connection is still intact. Many minutes later ...
F. Receptionist: "Hello?"
C. Troubadour: "Hi. This is Contemporary Troubadour; I called just under two weeks ago to set up an appointment with Dr. Specialist. You and I spoke about having my records sent to him for a consult --"
F. Receptionist: "What's your name?"
C. Troubadour: "Contemporary Troubadour."
F. Receptionist: "Mm hold on." [Sounds of typing.] "How do you spell that?"
C. Troubadour: "First name Contemporary, last name T-R-O-U-B-A-D-O-U-R."
F. Receptionist: "Hold on." [Several more minutes pass.] "I'm not finding you in the system. What was it you had faxed?"
C. Troubadour: "Well, there were records from my GI doctor and my endocrinol--"
F. Receptionist: "Who's the referring doctor?"
C. Troubadour: "Er -- I don't have one; my sister is a student at Medical University who contacted Dr. Senior Specialist to ask whom I should see, and he e-mailed her Dr. Specialist's name."
F. Receptionist: "Oh, okay, Dr. Senior Specialist ... and what was your name?"
C. Troubadour: "Contemporary Troubadour."
F. Receptionist: "Could you spell that?"
Contemporary Troubadour takes a deep breath and obliges. Glances at clock. Ten minutes have passed since she first dialed the doctor's office.
F. Receptionist: "Yeah, we don't have anything for you. Well, wait, there are some lab results from Seattle Business --"
C. Troubadour: "Yes! My husband faxed those from his office."
F. Receptionist: "Oh, well then we've just got those two sheets! They don't have any patient information on them."
C. Troubadour: "But -- I'm sorry, what now?"
F. Receptionist: "We haven't got anything. No date of birth or social security number; these are just lab results. But while I've got you on the phone, let me ask you --" [Ruffles papers.] "Okay, okay, who is this D. Troubadour on the cover sheet?"
C. Troubadour: "That's my husband."
F. Receptionist: "Oh, see we thought that was the patient. Now how do you spell your name so I can put it in the computer?"
C. Troubadour: "Contemporary. T-R-O-U-B-A-D-O-U-R."
F. Receptionist: "Mmkay, now how about your address?"
C. Troubadour: "1234 555th Way --"
F. Receptionist: "Hang on, 1234 555?"
C. Troubadour: "House number 1234. Then the street is called 555th Way."
F. Receptionist: "Way? Like W-A-Y?"
C. Troubadour: "Yes."
F. Receptionist: "And 555 with a T-H?"
C. Troubadour: "Mm hm."
F. Receptionist: "Okay, 1234 555th Way. Man, you must not get a lot of mail with that address."
C. Troubadour: "?!?"
F. Receptionist: "All right. Got it in the system. You'll be contacted shortly by someone now that you're there."
C. Troubadour: "Okay, but --"
F. Receptionist: "Have a nice day." Click.
Thirty seconds later, the phone rings.
F. Receptionist: "Hi, could I speak with Contemporary?"
C. Troubadour: "This is Contemporary."
F. Receptionist: "Hi, this is Female Receptionist; we just spoke a minute ago. Could you give me your date of birth and social?"
Aaaaaaand scene.
6 comments:
My blood pressure just shot up reading this! What a moron!!!!!
On another note, when and IF you get the results, shoot me a line, okay? xoxo
Will do, TKW!
And yeeees ... I was sort of speechless by the time the whole conversation (if we can call it that) was over. The worst part is that all scheduling has to go through her. I think I've officially gotten a taste of the tenth circle of hell :P
These aren't TAX forms, for God's sakes. They are reports about someone's insides! Let's have a little reverence here!
Sheesh.
Anyhoo, thanks for the entertainment, CT. And let us know when you wrangle with F. Receptionist again.
Oh man, GEW, I sense a comedy (tragedy?) in three acts coming out of this.
Totally opposite experience this morning: I called one of the places here that has to put together the records to send, and the person I spoke with was so with-it and personable that I nearly had to order her a singing thank-you telegram. Or something like it to make sure other people would hear it proclaimed that she was appreciated. I refrained, though. Some people are embarrassed by such public displays of gratitude ... ;)
Isn't it amazing the gratitude we feel when we encounter someone doing their job and helping us to the best of their ability - when in fact it should be the norm. I felt for you during this dialogue and you did well - thank goodness nobody was monitoring your vitals whilst you were trying not to explode.
As for my specialist appointment which was at 4.30 this aft - we are still snowed up around here and I didn't want my m-i-l to have to drive back in the dark and potential black ice. It's been postponed for about three week's time.
...and I'm thinking of you :)
I know, FF; I had the thought too about how it ought to be the norm. Saddening that this isn't the state of things and that we eventually give up on those expectations after so many negative experiences!
Oh dear, postponed appointments aren't fun. I hope you'll be able not to think about it too much in the next few weeks. Us and limbo. Sigh.
Thinking of you too! :)
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