(I am the strange one in this story. I have just woken up after a colonoscopy and my mind is still a bit fuzzy, but I still don’t know what drove me to do this.)
Doctor: “How do you feel?”
Me: “Are you Mickey Mouse?”
Doctor: “No, I’m not.”
Me: “You’re lying. Hi, Mickey!”
(I feel more awake and realize what I just said.)
Me: “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”
Doctor: “That’s okay. That’s not the weirdest thing I’ve heard today.”
(My baby was born with a congenital heart disease and required many cannulas and blood draws in the first four weeks of her life. Nurses would try, and then call upon doctors — neonatologists and consultants — and everyone struggled. They would all talk about how small her veins were and how hard it was when she squirmed and cried as they stuck her over and over. The worst part was, when she had a cannula finally inserted, she’d often rip it out within the next couple of hours. After three open-heart surgeries, her last lots of blood are being taken to give us the all-clear to go home.)
Me: “Just be aware, everyone else who has taken blood has had a lot of trouble.”
Young Phlebotomist: *draws blood efficiently and quickly, first time* “All done.”
Me: “Oh, wow! Everyone else has had such trouble; they keep saying she’s got such small veins.”
Young Phlebotomist: “Of course she has small veins. She’s a baby!”
(I work in a children’s hospital. Like most hospitals, we have a code system for emergencies. In our hospital, Code Pink is missing child — either patient, or sibling or friend visitor. We are responding to a Code Pink involving a teenager girl — here after an attempted suicide — who has gone missing from her room. Part of the response is that everyone needs to stay where they are when the code is issued, while the nurses search every room in their unit and allied health professionals man the doors between units. I’m an allied health professional, so I’m guarding the door between two units. It’s also right before visitors are supposed to leave for the night. Several visitors come to me, trying to leave to go home.)
Me: “We’re searching for a missing child at the moment, so please return to your child’s room until we notify you that our search is completed.”
Most People: “Oh, absolutely. I hope you find them quickly.”
Man: “Well, I’m tired, and I’m going home.”
Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but you cannot leave right now.”
Man: “Well, I’m leaving.”
Me: “With all due respect, no, you aren’t. Even if you get past me, no one is coming in or out of the hospital right now.”
Man: *starts to push past me* “I’m leaving.”
Me: “You will be stopped at the main door by security, anyway. We need everyone to stay where they are.”
Man: “I’ll get through security, too.”
Me: “May I remind you that security has pepper spray and tasers? Sir, I’m sure you can imagine that we take a missing child very seriously, and security is not going to play games with you.”
(He dejectedly went back to his room. For those worried, it turns out that the girl’s “friends” were trying to break her out of the hospital. She was 17. They were 18. They made it to the train station outside. They got charged with kidnapping.)
The nearest clinic that takes my insurance is a pretty far drive for me, so I try to book multiple medical appointments for the same day, or at least get more than one thing scheduled each time I go in. On this particular day, I’ve booked two appointments: one consultation that should take about thirty minutes, and a prescription renewal for a psychiatric medication that should only be about fifteen minutes. The receptionist and I agree that it makes sense to put in some buffer time, just in case the consultation takes a little longer than expected, so my psychiatric appointment is scheduled to start fifteen minutes after my consultation should end.
I arrive at the clinic fifteen minutes early, check in for both my appointments, remind the receptionist of my schedule, and settle into the waiting room. It’s not unusual for appointments at this clinic to run a few minutes late, so I’m not surprised when we’re five minutes past my first appointment time and I haven’t been called back; I left the buffer time for a reason. However, by the time we approach the twenty-minute mark, I’m pretty concerned. I go to the desk and ask, and the receptionist promises someone will be with me soon. I remind him that I have the second appointment, and he tells me that the psychiatrist’s schedule isn’t jammed, so if I’m a few minutes late, that’s all right. I’m getting a little annoyed, but I try to let it go and go back to wait.
Another ten minutes pass before a nurse brings me back to take my vitals, at what was supposed to be the end of my appointment time. I ask him about the delays, and he tells me that it will be fine and the doctor will be right with me, and leaves me in the office, alone.
I wait in the office for another twenty minutes, now officially five minutes into my psychiatric appointment time, before I step back into the front office. The receptionist says that the consulting doctor’s schedule is completely backed up, so he sends me back to do my psychiatric appointment while I wait. The psychiatrist is very understanding when I explain the whole confusion, and we’re just starting to talk about my medication when another doctor throws the door open without knocking first. Apparently, this is my consulting doctor.
She’s very angry, and starts laying into the psychiatrist, yelling about how it was absolutely unprofessional for him to take me back before I’d met with her, how it was screwing up her whole schedule, and how my consultation today was already going to be difficult, going into details about why it would be. Finally, she turns to me and tells me that if I want to meet with her at all, I have to do it now, because her schedule is so tight today. The psychiatrist tells me to go ahead, and he’ll talk to the receptionist and make sure I can still see him today.
I really don’t want to deal with this woman, but the consultation is for a cancer screening, for a fast-acting type that runs in my family. I’m high risk for it, and if I have it, even the few weeks it might take to rebook a consultation with a less-PO’d doctor could seriously impact my treatment. She’s professional enough during my appointment, and can tell me that I am, in fact, cancer-free, but I’m still very uncomfortable with her.
Luckily, I am able to rebook the psychiatric consultation after just another twenty-minute wait, although I’m now here over an hour later than I’d planned to be. I’m ready to just run out as quickly as I can, but the psychiatrist asks me if I can stay and speak to a staff member about my experience today.
Turns out, the reason there was a twenty-minute wait was because he filed a report against the other doctor for barging into my appointment with him without even knocking first, and then for yelling at him, including information about my appointment in her rant that he had no reason to know, since it didn’t relate to his treatment of me. I’m not sure if what she did was technically a HIPPA violation, or if it just violated the clinic’s policy, but when I go to book another appointment six months later, and specify that I’d like to be seen by any doctor except her, I’m told that she’s no longer with the clinic.
(I am in the waiting room of an OBGYN office I’ve never been to before. It is the only one in the area that is in my HMO insurance network. It’s late morning; appointments are not meant to be longer than 20 minutes, so I am planning to attend classes afterwards. When I walk in, I’m told that there is an extremely long wait time, even though we all have timed appointments — and are actually meant to be seen at that time. Though every hospital and office in this entire HMO company has a policy that if a patient checks in more than 15 minutes late they lose their appointment, obviously no equal rules have ever applied to providers being penalized for lateness. I have waited an hour already. Another patient, who is waiting for the same doctor, is sitting next to me with her newborn baby.)
Patient: “Oh, yeah. It’s aaaaalways been this way in this office for as long as I’ve been coming here. They’re aaaaalways extremely behind schedule.”
(This is not reassuring; since she’s got a baby, one can assume she’s been a patient with frequent appointments here for at least nine months.)
Patient: “Yeah, that’s why I’ve always made sure to get the very first appointment super-early in the morning. That’s absolutely the only way to get out of here on time. I just couldn’t manage it today. Oh, but don’t worry; I’ll be super-quick with my appointment, only five minutes. So you all won’t have to wait too much longer!”
(It’s nice of her, but we’re all already extremely late, anyway. I’m pretty appalled that a woman with a newborn is being made to wait around like this for well over an hour; luckily, her baby keeps on sleeping. I also wonder, if this office always runs severely late, why don’t they at least warn patients when we make our appointments? Many patients go up to ask the nurses several times what is going on with the excessive wait time. From overhearing them, it becomes clear that at least half a dozen of them are waiting for the same doctor I am, who appears to be the main cause of waiting-room congestion. The nurses seem extremely practiced at politely fobbing us off while giving non-answers about why this is happening or how much longer it’ll be, as well as pretending to be helpless and confused themselves, while giving off the heavy impression that this is actually all “business as usual.” I’m extremely unhappy; there is no end to the wait in sight, and it’s clear I’ll miss my classes. In other circumstances I’d just leave, but I am there because of suspicion of a uterine tumor and absolutely need to have tests done. Most people resign themselves to waiting, except for one young woman, who checked in 20 minutes after me, and keeps on whining to the nurses over and over. After waiting less than an hour, she starts going towards the exit door in showy slow-motion, while she declares extra loudly to the entire room that she’s leaving since she must get back to her job. I feel extremely skeptical of this, as she is dressed very unprofessionally, even by the standards of the most casual minimum-wage job, and has multiple large, prominent facial piercings.)
Nurse: “Oh, no! No, Ms. [Whiny Patient], don’t leave!”
Whiny Patient: “Oh, I absolutely have to get back to work! There’s no way I can stay here any longer!”
Nurse: “If you wait just a moment, I’ll go right away to ask the doctor if she can accommodate you sooner! Just wait right here!”
(The nurse goes inside the medical office, and comes back within two minutes to call the whiny patient in to be seen by the doctor immediately. I am shocked, as I know this girl was in line behind me, and there’s still at least one other person in front of me, as well. I go up to the nurses again.)
Me: “Excuse me, but I believe that young woman who just went in is seeing the same doctor as me, and several other people here.”
Nurse: “Well, yes, she is in with [Doctor].”
Me: “Did you really just call her in ahead of all of us, including those that were here first?!”
Nurse: “Well, yes. You see, she is in a very great hurry to get back to work. So we just had to see her now. [Doctor] did her a favor and managed to squeeze her in sooner.” *without appearing to realize the actual obvious meaning of that sentence*
Me: “Oh, my God, really?! [Doctor] did her a favor and squeezed her in?! What you’re actually saying is you talked Dr. [Doctor] into seeing her sooner, at all of the rest of our expense, without even consulting us! Neither [Doctor] nor any of you lost anything by doing this! You all just chose to steal several other people’s time for your own convenience of not having to explain the reason behind the patient’s appointment cancellation after she’d already showed up and paid for it! Wow, I wish I’d thought of getting up, whining a lot, and loudly threatening to leave; apparently it would have gotten me seen a lot sooner, too!”
(Even besides me, there were very good odds that some of the other patients also had to get to work — no one was even asked. But we all acted like adults and dealt with it instead of making a loud fuss to skip ahead of others in line. The nurse and doctor just decided that since we didn’t throw up a fuss, it automatically meant our time was worthless compared to [Whiny Patient]’s, and could be taken away from us with no notice. [Whiny Patient]’s appointment was not quick in the least. By the time she left, and then they finished with the other patient ahead of me, I was called in a whopping hour and 42 minutes later than my scheduled appointment time. While [Doctor] seemed likable and competent in person — once I finally got to see her — I couldn’t help questioning both her character and her competency in my head through the entire appointment because of the unprofessional mess with the waiting room. After leaving there, since they’d already ensured I would fully miss all my classes that day, I went straight up a couple of floors in the hospital, to the Member Services department– where they saw me very promptly, even with no appointment — and submitted a complaint face-to-face with a nice, attentive employee who typed up everything I told him. I made sure to tell him every detail, including the 1:40 wait time and the long-time patient who told me that the OBGYN office always operates this way. It’s been several years, and I have never gone back to that office.)
