Jean does not have a future in therapy
We have been having some trouble getting the girls’ medical records transferred to our new pediatrician. I have filled out all the forms twice, to no avail. So I finally called our old pediatrician’s office today.
Lady: Blah Blah Pediatrics, how may I help you?
Me: I’ve been having some trouble getting our daughters’ records transferr–
Lady: Oh, let me just stop you right there. I need to transfer you to records, so you don’t have to explain it all twice.
Me: Oh, thanks!
Lady: Hold just a minute.
::bad music::
::more bad music::
::still more bad mu–:
Jean: Blah Blah Medical Records; this is Jean. How may I help you?
Me: Hi, I’ve been having some trouble getting our daughters’ records transferred to our new pediatrician, specifically the–
Jean: Name please?
Me: Last name Whine–W-H-I-N-E–, first names Grace and Emmeline–E-M–
Jean: Emily?
Me: No, Emmeline. E-M-M–
Jean: How do you spell that?
Me: [For serious?] E-M-M-E-L-I-N-E
(Oh, I love the name, but I’m so sick of spelling it; poor child has a rough life ahead of her with the Americanized German atrocity that is our last name. Get married quick, 2.0!)
Jean: Okay… here it is. It shows we sent 34 pages on February 9, 2011.
Me: Hmm. Well, the main problem was the immunization records. I’m pretty sure they got the–
Jean: Well, we sent it. 34 pages.
Me: Okay, well, I’ll just call and double check. Her last visit was shortly after that, so maybe they hadn’t been processed yet.
Jean: Okay. Bye!
She wasn’t mean, just brusque. I still wanted to shake her. She’s in such a hurry to do her job, let me finish a sentence! It would have gone much more quickly.
So I called our new pediatrician’s office (almost an hour later, since they close for lunch), got transferred to records again, after more bad music. The nicest lady works in that office:
Kim: New Blah Medical Records; this is Kim. How may I help you?
Me: Hi, I’ve been having some trouble getting our daughters’ records transferred here; she has an appointment coming up, and I want to make sure they made it.
Kim: Okay, name please?
Me: Last name Whine–W-H-I-N-E–, first names Grace and Emmeline–E-M-M-E-L-I-N-E. [SEE HOW MUCH FASTER THAT WENT, JEAN?]
Kim: Okay, I have 34 pages here, but I’m not finding the immunization records. I’ll just look through it for you quick…
[…
“quick” being a relative term, I suppose
…]
Kim: Hmm… Okay, there’s nothing here. All I’ve got are two sheets saying they got their flu shots.
Me: Argh. Okay. I’ll call them again. Thank you!
Me: [to self] Okay, why don’t I just find the number for Blah Blah Records and call them directly so I don’t have to get transferred again.
Lady2: Blah Blah Records, how may I help you?
Me: Hi, I’m calling again about my daughters’ records. I’m having trouble getting them transferred.
Lady2: Name please?
Me: Last name Whine–W-H-I-N-E–, first names Grace and Emmeline–E-M-M-E-L-I-N-E.
Lady2: …Oh, is this for pediatrics?
Me: Yes, I found the number on your website. It was the only one for records.
Lady2: Sorry; this is just the hospital; I’ll need to transfer you to pediatrics.
Me: Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize.
Lady2: That’s fine; no problem!
::bad music::
::more bad music::
::still more bad mu–:
Jean [breathing fire]: Mrs. Whine? WHY did you call the hospital’s records?
Me: Bwah? This is the only number for records on Blah Blah Health Care’s website. I thought it would be easier for everyone to call directly. I didn’t know–
Jean: WELL. This is pediatrics [imagine this spoken slowly, like I’m two, or Bolivian, or nearly deaf]. The hospital can’t give you our records.
Me: Okay…
Jean: Now, I SENT those 34 pages to your pediatrician just now. Why did you call again?
Me: Umm… You did?
Jean: I TOLD you I was sending them.
Me: I’m very sorry. I don’t remember you saying that.
Jean: Well, I sent them. Why did you call again?
Me: Excuse me? I’ve sent this request twice. I wanted to make sure they actually got their records this time. They hadn’t. I called here again.
Jean: Okay. Bye [with that note of irritation you leave on the end of a word to let someone know you think she’s an idiot].
The whole thing is ridiculous, since they are the ones who botched the whole thing, but the 4th grader in me got off the phone and almost cried. Ridiculous.
But seriously. I know nothing about how offices work. Other than wasting her time (eyeroll), is there some horrible thing about accidentally calling the wrong number in the system?
In other news, I have found some pants that fit me perfectly. Black dress pants, no less, which is good because the pair I got from Old Navy five years ago are now tissue-thin. They are Gloria Vanderbilt, which makes me feel like a 60-something Kohl’s aficionado, but hey! They look good on me. They are not high-waisted, pleated, or tapered, so who cares if they’re a mom jeans and cardigans kind of brand, right?
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yeaaaa, I think we can all relate to that lady. Unfortunately. Don’t cry. Just imagine her tripping over her own feet and falling into a mud puddle. 😉
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Oh man! I so feel your pain. I usually burst into tears right in the middle of things, though. I applaud you for making it through without the tell-tale quiver in the voice.
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Geez Jean, why you gotta be such a downer? And make my friend Naomi almost cry? HARUMPH. Very exciting about the pants. I totally feel your pain; nothing fits this body-after-birthing-two-kids. Blah.
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Exactly why I am afraid to call about stuff like that. It makes me so angry that I end up crying. I totally understand.
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There is nothing wrong with complaining to someone’s supervisor, especially when it comes to health care. ESPECIALLY when it comes to your kids’ health care!
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What an officious b1tch. Her, not you. She was completely out of order. I wish you had stood your ground a bit more in that second call though, because it sounds like she’s sending the same thing again, which apparently is missing some part about flu jabs?? What a nightmare. I work in an office and spend a lot of my day on the phone, transferring and being transferred. There really is no callfor her attitude.
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I think you should gp down there with a ball gag and a bullwhip and ask Jean where the eff your daugjhters records are. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Grrr…I wanna get Jean fired!
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My boss would have my ass if she heard me talking to someone on the phone like that. 😛
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