Some time ago, my company transferred me and I had to change my family’s medical plans. Shortly thereafter, I got a small bill from our previous doctor. I had no idea what it was for, so I called the billing office.

I got a busy signal. This was in the days before call waiting, phone trees, and voicemail; they just answered them as their phones rang. So, I sat at my desk at work with the bill in front of me and periodically hit redial on my phone.

I started this on a Monday morning. On Thursday at 11:00 am, after an interminable number of tries, someone finally picked up. She identified herself by first name only.

Me: “Hello. I received this bill from your office and I don’t know what it’s for. Can you help me?”

Representative #1: “I’ll need your patient number.”

I no longer had my old card with me.

Me: “Where can I find that number on my statement?

Representative #1: “I can’t tell you that.”

Me: “What does it look like?”

Representative #1: “I can’t tell you that, either.”

It’s hard to judge but I sensed she was enjoying herself. After going around in circles for a few minutes, I hung up, frustrated.

I went home and found my wife’s old card; from it, I learned that the patient number was just my Social Security number, and it was displayed on each page of the bill without defining it as such. Armed with this, I started the redial process again.

It took me another three days to get through, and luckily, I got a different representative. When I told her my issue and started to give her my number, she said:

Representative #2: “Oh, I don’t need that. I can find you by your name.”

To say I was irritated was a massive understatement.

It turned out that the charge was legitimate, but I had wasted hours unnecessarily due to the first rep. I thought for a day and composed a letter to the office referencing the bill. I described what I had gone through with the first rep, mentioning her by name, and ended the letter thusly:

Me: “I don’t know if [Representative #1] was lazy, incompetent, or just nasty, but her lack of service was inexcusable. She made me waste far more time than the value of your bill; if you wish payment, I suggest you get it from her as you are paying her for a job she is unwilling or unable to perform.”

I never heard back and never got a second bill.

This story is pre-health crisis. One morning, I wake up with a sore throat. I assume I have the beginning of a cold and go on with my day. However, the sore throat does not go away. It gets worse over a twenty-four-hour period to the point where I can hardly swallow, and I develop a fever. I call my doctor’s office because in the past, this has indicated strep, and I make sure to tell the receptionist this. They tell me to come in right away.

I do so, and they take me into an exam room. I’m met by a nurse I’ve never seen before. This is normal, as there’s a nursing college nearby, and my doctor gets a lot of their recent grads.

Nurse #1: “Okay, we’re gonna do some bloodwork to check you for mono.”

Me: “Mono?”

Nurse #1: “You have all the symptoms.”

Me: “I have a history of strep. Isn’t [Doctor] gonna check my throat?”

Nurse #1: “We’re checking for mono.”

The nurse preps me for bloodwork. I am used to needles, as I have a chronic illness that requires frequent labs. However, this is a disaster. She attempts to stick me and misses the vein. Then, she starts digging around UNDER THE SKIN with the needle to attempt to hit the vein. I whimper.

Nurse #1: “Not used to bloodwork?”

Me: “Oh, I get plenty of bloodwork. Check my chart. I’m not used to someone digging under my skin with a needle. Ow! Can you stop?! I don’t think you’re gonna find the vein that way!”

She finally pulls it out and bandages it up.

Nurse #1: “I guess that vein wasn’t big enough! Let me get [Nurse #2].”

[Nurse #2], whom I’ve also never seen before, walks in, and with no warning, attempts to stick me in the same arm. She also misses the vein. She pulls the needle out of my arm and jabs me again in the same spot, harder. I shriek.

Me: “Ouch! Seriously?!” 

Nurse #2: “Have you ever had blood drawn before, sweetie?”

I shoot her a look.

Me: “I have [chronic illness], so I have labs twice a year. Did any of you look at my chart?”

Nurse #2: “Oh. Your veins are very stubborn. Have they had trouble getting blood from you before?”

Me: “No. Never. Is there someone else that can help me?”

They get a third nurse, who has done my labs several times.

Nurse #3: “Oh, hey, [My Name]. How’s it going?”

Me: “Bad.”

Nurse #2: “Her veins are stubborn. What should we do?”

[Nurse #3] examines my arm and rolls her eyes.

Nurse #3: “You stuck her three times in one arm?! The answer is obvious. Use her other arm, and don’t stab her, either! I heard her scream down the hall!”

She leaves, grumbling under her breath. Thankfully, they take her advice. [Nurse #1] and [Nurse #2] then decide to test me for the flu which, as many of us know, is a very long swab up the nose. And they JAM it up my nose. So, now my nose, arm, and throat are throbbing.

Me: “Hey, um, is [Doctor] gonna look at my throat at all?”

Nurse #1: “He wants to start with this. Test results should be in tomorrow. You can go home now.”

I go home. The next day, I feel worse. The doctor’s office calls and says that both tests were negative.

Me: “Okay, but I’m still sick. Can I come back for a strep test?”

Nurse #2: “[Doctor] says that if you’re still sick after ten days, call us. Then he’ll talk about an antibiotic.”

Me: “But I can barely swallow.”

Nurse #2: “He said ten days.”

I live off soft foods, warm liquids, cough drops, and Aleve until day six when I can’t take it anymore. I can swallow a bit more, but I still have a high fever and my throat still hurts. I’ve also developed joint pain. I call the doctor back in tears. I finally get [Nurse #3], who apologizes and says she will speak with the doctor. She calls back a couple of hours later.

Nurse #3: “Okay, [My Name], [Doctor] has recommended an antibiotic. I called it in and put a rush on it. I know you’re feeling pretty miserable and you’ve been waiting a long time. I’m so sorry about that. I’m not sure why they made you wait.”

Me: “Thank you!”

I felt A LOT better within a couple of days of starting the antibiotic.

When I was pregnant with my first child, I 100% knew that it was a girl, and she was, but had no idea with my second baby, who happened to be a boy. When I got pregnant with my third child, I was once again sure that it was a girl. We are living in a different city so this is my first experience with this particular doctor.

We go in to check for the baby’s sex. 

Doctor: “Are we hoping for a girl or for a boy?”

Me: “I know this baby is a girl.”

Doctor: “Congratulations! It’s a boy!”

Me: “Nope.”

Doctor: “Um, what?”

Me: “I know that this is a girl.”

Doctor: “Noooo… it’s a boy. You can see why right here.”

Me: “No. It’s for sure a girl.” 

The doctor has clearly never been in this situation before.

Doctor: “Um, well, I guess that could be the umbilical cord but I’m 97% sure that it isn’t.”

Me: “I’m sorry to challenge you, but I seriously know that this baby is a girl.” 

Doctor: *Grumbling* “I guess we can wait a few weeks and do another ultrasound. But it will be a waste of time, for you and me.”

Me: “Let’s do that.”

Two weeks later, we went back and did another ultrasound. It was a girl. We didn’t use him for delivery. I couldn’t use a doctor who wouldn’t at least entertain the possibility that I was right.

When I need to find a new primary care physician, my sister, who’s a medical assistant, strongly recommends one of the doctors she works for. I accept — and she turns out to be the greatest PCP I’ve ever had, but I digress.

I don’t know if this is the law or their office’s policy, but my sister explains to me from the beginning that she’s not allowed to have anything to do with my treatment; she can’t look at my chart, she can’t room me when I come in, she can’t talk to me on the phone, etc.

Okay, rules are rules. I almost never have to call the office anyway — you call the network’s central line to make appointments, not the office directly — but I figure if she ever answers, I’ll simply say, “It’s [My Name],” and wait for her to put someone else on the line.

There comes a day where I call the office with some questions for my doctor about a course of treatment I recently began. A female voice I don’t recognize at all answers.

Assistant: “Thank you for calling [Office]. We’re on a recorded line. How may I help you?”

Me: “Hi, this is [My Name]. I saw [Doctor] earlier this week and just had some questions for her about [treatment].”

Assistant: “[My Name], it’s [Sister].”

Me: *Stunned* “Oh! I’m sorry, I—”

Assistant: “Here, let me get [Coworker].”

Another employee took care of me. For the record, the health issue was neither embarrassing nor something I hadn’t already told my sister about in typical family conversation.

When we hung up, I texted my sister, “I’m so sorry! I know you can’t help me, and had I known, I would’ve waited for you to get someone else, but I swear, I had no idea that was you! Your voice sounded so much deeper and more mature.”

When she was free, she simply texted back, “Customer service voice.”

And now I know what voice to listen for!

I have an injectable maintenance medication which is administered every three months. Once I began nursing school and was signed off on injection administration, my doctor said it was stupid to have me come into the office to get this medication administered since I routinely did it for others as part of my clinicals. I was ordered to call in with the date, location given, and lot/expiration date. For three years, I did not have any issues doing this. That is, until the doctor hired a new nurse.

I call in.

Me: “Hi, this is [My Name], born [Date Of Birth]. I’m calling in with the information on my injection.”

Nurse: “What do you mean, ‘calling in with the information’?”

Me: “Oh, the doc allows me to self-administer at home and call the information in.”

The nurse goes BALLISTIC. 

Nurse: “What the h*** do you mean self-administer?! You aren’t allowed to do that! You must come in to have a nurse give that! I’m going to report you to the doctor and he’s going to fire you as a patient.”

Me: “I’m a nurse. I literally work in the building next door to your office. [Doctor] thinks it’s stupid for me to come in for this. It wastes my time and your office’s time.”

Nurse: “Don’t you lie to me, girlie!”

She continued screaming at me.

At this, I’d had enough and told her I was hanging up. I went to work early the next day to go speak to the nurse manager for that office. I was informed that it wasn’t an issue any longer as the doctor had heard her screaming at me. He waited and then informed her that I was indeed a fellow nurse and he didn’t allow his nurses to treat patients or fellow colleagues like that.

A nurse I work with told me about watching security unceremoniously removing a nurse from the building next door the previous day.

It’s not often that instant Karma occurs, but when it does, it’s glorious.

This story is part of our Best Of January 2021 roundup!

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