(I work as a receptionist for a dental office. Even though we’re a relatively small practice, we still have about a thousand active patients at any given time. One day, I get this call from an elderly gentleman:)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Practice]. How can I help you?”

Caller: *enthusiastically* “Hi! It’s me!”

(I see that caller ID simply reads, “Private Caller.”)

Me: “Well, hello! I’d love to help you today; can I start with your name?”

Caller: “Yeah, yeah, it’s me! You know me!”

(We do know quite a few of our patients by name on sight, and in most cases, a first or last name is enough to correctly identify any mystery patient.)

Me: *laughs* “Yes, I’m sure I do! Okay, I just need to find your file in the computer, though. Can I get your last name?”

Caller: “I was just there; you know me!”

Me: *cheerfully* “We get a lot of patients, since [Doctor] is very popular. When were you last in?”

Caller: *still very enthusiastic* “I was there a month or two ago! You know me!”

Me: *giving up* “Oooh! Yes, of course, I know you! What can I do for you?”

(I managed to glean some details during the rest of our conversation, and after searching our appointment book through the previous three months, I was able to successfully match a name to the unidentified caller. He was right! I DID know him because he had been in quite frequently for a brief time, and because he was always so cheerful at the visits. He’s still a patient and every time he calls our office, he only says, “Hi, it’s me!”, though all our receptionists know who “me” is now.)

When I was in my early 20s, I worked for a dental clinic where the dentist’s wife was the office manager. We weren’t permitted to take our own vacation days; we could only take time off when the dentist was closed for his own vacations. We worked Monday to Thursday, so any personal things could be done on Fridays. The wife was not lenient in letting us take any vacation or sick time, so we were expected to be there every day for all office hours. I don’t recall taking any sick days or ever asking for time off in the three years I worked there.

My boyfriend had been across the country working for a month and was due to fly into the airport at lunch time on a weekday — not a Friday. We live in a smaller city without public transportation from the airport, which is outside the city limits. I was very excited to see my boyfriend after him being away for so long and only needed to leave half an hour before lunch to pick him up on time.

I checked with my other coworkers that it wouldn’t be an issue for me to leave early this one time. They assured me they could cover the half-hour; we didn’t admit patients at that time of day, which was my job, so they would just be watching to make sure no one arrived off-schedule. So, I happily set off for the airport and picked up my boyfriend and drove him home.

I was back to work on time after lunch and my coworkers said everything was fine. When the dentist’s wife found out the next day, she called me into her office and berated me for ten minutes about how selfish I was for taking an early lunch, how irresponsible it was, and how I needed to grow up! I was in tears when I left her office. My coworkers were livid about the encounter but there was nothing I could do. 

I gladly quit for a new job a few months later. Thanks for having compassion for a loyal worker, lady!

(I overhear one side of this conversation between a lady at the front desk of the dentist office and someone calling.)

Front Desk Lady: “Hi, thanks for calling [Dentist’s Office]. How can I help you?”

(Pause.)

Front Desk Lady: “No problem, I can make that appointment for you. That doctor is only in this office on Thursdays, but he is also in [Nearby Office] on Fridays; which office would you prefer?”

(Pause.)

Front Desk Lady: “Okay. Well, I can set you for an appoint on Thursday the 29th at this office, or Friday the 30th at [Nearby Office]. Which would you like?”

(Pause.)

Front Desk Lady: “No, I’m sorry, next week is Thanksgiving and we are not taking appointments on Thursday or Friday.”

(Pause.)

Front Desk Lady: “No, I’m sorry, that doctor is only in this office on Thursdays, and [Nearby Office] on Fridays, so I cannot make you an appointment for earlier in the week. I can schedule you for an appointment on Thursday the 29th or Friday the 30th at [Nearby Office]; which would you like?”

(Pause.)

Front Desk Lady: “No, I’m sorry, but next Thursday is Thanksgiving, so we will be closed for the holiday.”

(Pause.)

Front Desk Lady: “I’m sorry, but the doctor is not in this office on Monday or Tuesdays. He is only in this office on Thursdays and [Nearby Office] on Fridays. Can I schedule you an appointment for the 29th or 30th?”

(Pause.)

Front Desk Lady: “I’m sorry, but we are not open next Thursday or Friday because of the Thanksgiving holiday. So, can I schedule an appointment for the 29th or 30th for you?”

(Pause.)

Front Desk Lady: “I’m sorry, but the doctor only works Thursdays at this office.”

(Pause.)

Front Desk Lady: “No, I’m sorry, we aren’t going to be open next Thursday; it’s Thanksgiving.”

(Pause.)

Front Desk Lady: “Okay, I’ve scheduled your appointment for the 29th at [time].”

(The front desk lady hung up the phone. I burst out laughing and so did she.)

This story is part of the Thanksgiving 2022 roundup!

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Around mid-October, I begin to feel pain on the upper side in the back of my jaw. I didn’t have my wisdom teeth out as a teen, so I know I’ve waited too long to have them removed. At this point in my life, I’m on state Medicaid; I find a dentist who takes my insurance and see them in early November. The dentist confirms it’s my wisdom teeth coming in and refers me to an oral surgeon, as the X-rays indicate that all four are bone-impacted. 

I call the oral surgeon’s office and get an appointment for December 28th. It goes well; they take another set of X-rays that informs us that the roots of my top wisdom teeth have grown into my sinus cavity. The bottom two are close enough to my nerve that he wants all four extracted, I will have to be anesthetized for it, and they need to come out ASAP. He assures they’ll submit the paperwork and the insurance will get back to me within two weeks. 

I leave satisfied. 

Two weeks roll around, nothing. I give calling the insurance an extra day, due to Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. They inform me that they have no record of any submission at all. They call the oral surgeon’s office and assure me that the office will resubmit the paperwork. I ask her how long it will take — by this point, one wisdom tooth has partially erupted; the other side of that tooth is pushing on my last molar — and am informed if the office submits online, it will take two days. 

I then call the oral surgeon to find out how they might be submitting the paperwork, so I can find out how long I’m going to be in pain. I speak with a lovely woman who, in response to my question, replies, “I don’t know,” and hangs up on me. I call back immediately; it goes straight to the office message.

I call the insurance company back and ask if anything can be done. At this point, I can only wait for them to submit the paperwork, but I am urged that if they don’t, to contact state Medicaid and make a complaint. 

I wait 24 hours and call the surgeon again. This time I get another woman, who is actually helpful. Surprise, surprise, no one submitted my paperwork. They also can only submit by mail, so there is at least a two-week wait. [Employee #2] assures me that she’ll submit the paperwork. She apologizes for her coworker with an exasperated sigh that tells me this isn’t the first problem [Employee #1] has caused. 

Two weeks pass. I finally get a response from the insurance company in the mail: the extraction is approved, but general anesthesia is not. According to the paperwork, whoever submitted used the wrong code for the new year and it needs to be resubmitted, again. 

It’s now Mid-February and I have been dealing with wisdom tooth pain since October. I can barely eat or sleep because of the pain. 

I call state Medicaid and make a complaint about the way I was treated and how the situation was handled. I am told that my complaint is not valid because I did not receive services from the surgeon. They also will not approve the general anesthesia because I do not have any medical reason for it, i.e., fear of needles, anxiety, etc. To have all four bone-impacted wisdom teeth removed. At one time. No need. At all. 

I find another dentist farther from my area and make the earliest appointment they have. They recommend me to another surgeon, even farther than the first surgeon. I get an appointment with the second surgeon within the week. He apologizes for the first surgeon and assures me that they’ll handle it properly.

It’s now the beginning of March. I get the paperwork from the insurance regarding the new surgeon’s submission; everything’s perfect. I have the surgery on March 27th, half a year after the pain started. It takes longer than expected, as my mouth is small; the surgeon has to take my bottom wisdom teeth in pieces to work around the nerves. I am advised to stay on bed-rest for the next five days. 

Everything works out just fine — months pass and my jaw has healed completely. I end up getting a full-time job and dental insurance — different from state Medicaid — through them. 

Sometime around August, I get a letter in the mail from my insurance, denying payment for an appointment from the very first dentist I saw about a referral to an oral surgeon. 

I call that dentist and have my files transferred as quickly as I can.

(I work at a dental clinic inside a school. I stroll in at 8:30 and there’s a lady sitting in our lobby. She’s looking at the bookstore/cafe. She starts circling the chairs, sighing heavily. Finally, she marches up to me.)

Customer: *snarling* “The website says the bookstore is open at 8:30!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but it’s actually 9:00 am; the times are listed on the door.”

Customer: “But I came here at 8:30! The website said 8:30! Why isn’t it open at 8:30?!”

(I am thinking, “Why are you yelling at the dental clinic about the bookstore?”)

Me: “I have no control over that; you can talk to the people at the bookstore when it opens.”

Customer: “They saw me! They should open the doors! I just want to look at the books!”

(I had no answer for her. Finally, she huffed off. She then started pacing back and forth in front of the door, waiting for them to open. Now and then she’d circle the chairs, sigh, and glare at me. I went into the file room when it became too much. It’s just a college bookstore, lady. No need to get so intense! I just checked the website: it says they open at 9:00 am.)