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    Obama-Careless, Part 2

    | MO, USA | Criminal/Illegal, Health & Body, Politics

    Me: “This is medical records. How can I help you?”

    Patient’s Girlfriend: “My man was in the ER yesterday and we need to know what’s wrong with him.”

    Me: “Okay. He just needs to fill out a release of information. I can fax one to you, or mail one to you, or you can come in, whichever is easiest for you.”

    Patient’s Girlfriend: “You can’t just tell me?”

    Me: “No, ma’am, I’m sorry. That’s against HIPAA regulation.”

    Patient’s Girlfriend: “He’s too sick to come in! And we don’t have no fax.”

    Me: “Then you can come in, pick up a release, and then take it back to have him fill it out authorizing his records to be released to you. When you can come back we can give you his records.”

    Patient’s Girlfriend: “I don’t have a driver’s license! He doesn’t have one either. This is bulls***!”

    (Meanwhile, I can hear the patient in the background, shouting about how he’s ‘paying for HIPAA’ and how everything is Obama’s fault before he finally takes the phone from the girl.)

    Patient: “You look here. I f****** need to know now! I’m really f****** sick and I need to know what’s f****** wrong with me! I’ll come get you when I die!”

    Me: “I’m sorry, sir. I really can’t release information over the phone. If you’re seeing a doctor who needs to know what you were seen for in the ER, they can contact us and we can send them the records directly.”

    Patient: “I’m not seeing no f****** doctor. I don’t have no ‘Obamacare.’ I just wanna know what’s wrong with me!”

    Me: *giving up* “Would you like to speak to my director?

    Patient: “D*** yes, I’ll speak to your director! I’ll send Obama after you!”

    (I attempt to transfer the call to my director. It rings through to her voicemail so I go ahead and transfer him so he can leave a message. After hanging up, I stare at the phone for a few minutes before turning to my coworker next to me.)

    Me: “That might be the most occurrences of the f-word I’ve ever heard in five minutes.”

    (Ten minutes later, a coworker from another part of the office comes in.)

    Coworker #2: “Um, there’s a patient on the phone who’s really upset. He says he needs his records right now.”

    Coworker #1: “Is he saying the f-word a lot?”

    (Coworker #2 nods and Coworker #1 sighs.)

    Coworker #1: “Tell him to see if maybe one of the doctors or nurses who treated him will talk to him and transfer him to the ER.”

    (Five minutes later Coworker #1′s phone rings.)

    Coworker #1: “Thank you for calling… What? Oh, good grief. I think we just talked to him, but go ahead and put him through. Health Information Management. How can I help you? Mmhm. No, I can’t give you any information over the phone. All right. I’ll hold, but I can’t break the law for him, either.

    (My coworker hangs up the phone and catches my curious look.)

    Coworker #1: “He told me he was going to transfer me to the White House so I could talk to Obama. When I said I’d hold, he muttered something about his stupid smartphone, and then told me to f*** off and hung up.”

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