I recently found out that I am pregnant. After discussing it with my husband and taking into account our extensive family history of medical problems along with our own, we decide to terminate the pregnancy.

I call a well-known health and wellness center to schedule a date for the procedure and am told that, due to my health history, I have to go to my gynecologist before I can terminate. I call to schedule that appointment.

Receptionist: “[Doctor]’s office.”

Me: “Hi. My name is [My Name]. I’d like to schedule an appointment with [Doctor].”

Receptionist: “Okay, is this an annual review?”

Me: “Um, no, I’m pregnant.”

Receptionist: “Oh, [Doctor] only deals with exams. She doesn’t do anything with pregnancies.”

Me: “Oh. I was told to meet with her—”

Receptionist: “Who said that?”

Me: “[Wellness Center].”

Receptionist: *With an attitude* “Why are you going there?”

Me: “That’s something I’ll be discussing with the doctor, thank you.”

Receptionist: “Are you having an abortion?”

Me: “Again, that is something I will discuss with the doctor.”

Receptionist: “Well, like I said, she doesn’t do those appointments.”

Me: “Fine. I’d like a wellness visit, then.”

Receptionist: “No, we can’t see you.”

She hangs up on me. Unfortunately for her, the doctor’s office has recently started using an app to help patients get in touch with their doctor and track their health. I send a message to my doctor, detailing my interaction with the receptionist.

The next day, I get a call from the office. It is the same receptionist. 

Me: “Hello?”

Receptionist: *Huffy* “[My Name]?”

Me: “Yes.”

Receptionist: “The doctor will see you on [date] at [time]. Will that work for you?”

Me: “Yes, that’s fine.” 

Receptionist: “Fine.”

She hung up again. At my appointment, the doctor apologized for the receptionist and said she was dealt with. I don’t know if she was fired or they just had a conversation. My doctor supported my decision and I had no complications.

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CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

There are certain medications that can be used in both humans and animals, but usually, the dosages are very different. One of these medications is Phenobarbital, a seizure medication. Our office doesn’t keep this medication in stock so we have to call it in to a human pharmacy.

One of our canine patients is on Phenobarbital. He has been stable on his dose for years, but they do not make a pill in the size he needs, so we prescribe him two different sizes to add up to the right amount. Apparently, this is not regularly done with humans, because every time we call in his medication we get a call from the pharmacy to confirm some things. So, we put a note on his file with what to say when they call back.

I am training a new receptionist and have just had her call in his refill authorization. Soon after. we get the expected call from the pharmacist. She has the pharmacy on hold and asks what to do, so I tell her to open his chart and read the script.

New Receptionist: “Hello. Apparently, I have to read this note to you. Yes, he needs both sizes. Yes, at the same time. Yes, we know this is a very large dose for a human, but he is a dog. He is a very large dog. He has been taking the pills like this for years now. Thank you.”

I am sitting there listening to her side of this, fighting the urge to facepalm, and thinking it was pretty obvious that those were meant to be the responses to questions she would be asked and not to be read straight through like that.

The pharmacist says something and she replies:

New Receptionist: “I’m not sure. Um, looks like the note was dated four years ago.” *Pause* “Um, I think so; let me check.” *Turns to me* “Hey, [My Name], have we been saying this every time we call his medication in?”

I nod and she turns back to the phone.

New Receptionist: “Yeah, we have.” *Pause* “Really? That’d probably save everyone some time. Thanks.” *Hangs up* “They are going to put a copy of our note on their computers so they don’t have to keep calling in every time.”

Me: “Wait, they could do that? I thought it was a requirement for them to confirm odd-sounding doses, and that the phone calls were just formalities so they could check a box saying they did it. How did none of them ever notice that we were having the same conversation every four months?”

We no longer get confirmation calls for that patient.

(I’ve been dealing with morning sickness for weeks and my doctor’s office has sent me four reminders in two days this week to get blood work done, unrelated to the pregnancy. Today, I’m finally feeling well enough to go to the blood lab in the morning. It is a 30-minute drive to get there, and I’ve had to take a little time off work.)

Me: “Hello, I’m here for a blood draw.” *provides my name, date of birth, etc. as needed*

Blood Lab Front Desk: “Oh, we don’t have any record of this. Are you sure your doctor’s office sent it over?”

Me: “Yes, they’ve even sent me multiple reminders this week to come here.”

Blood Lab Front Desk: *confirms the name of my doctor* “No, there’s no record of this. Do you want me to call them?”

Me: “No, thank you. I’ll call them myself as I won’t have the time now to wait for them to send the order over and still do the draw.”

(So, I call the doctor’s office and explain the situation.)

Receptionist: “Well, we sent the order over. We faxed it.”

Me: “Okay, but they are saying they don’t have it, so they won’t do the draw. I’ve just driven for 30 minutes to do this and taken time off work. Now I don’t know when I’ll be able to do it again.”

Receptionist: “Um, well, we did fax it. Well, do you, like, um, want us to fax it again?”

Me: “Yes!”

(Inside I was thinking, “No! Please just continue to be as useless as you are right now.”)

(Many years ago, before cell phones and even before personal computers are common, I receive a court summons. I’m not familiar with the location of the courthouse, in a town over an hour away from where I am residing, and I can’t find a map that lists it — neither the mailed summons or phone book I find in the local library have a street address, just something like “Courthouse Square” — I call a week or so before the hearing date to get directions. My bad; the very short conversation goes something like this:)

Receptionist: “Thank you for calling [County] court; how may I direct your call?

Me: “I’ve received a summons to appear at a hearing on [date] and I’m unfamiliar with where the courthouse is located. I’ll be entering town on the main highway from the west; could you provide directions or connect me with someone who can?”

Receptionist: “I’m sorry, I’m not allowed to provide legal advice.”

Me: “I just need directions from the highway to the courthouse. I’m not asking for legal advice at all!”

Receptionist: “I’m sorry, no one is here who can provide you with that information. As I stated, I’m not allowed to answer legal questions. You’ll need to contact your attorney. Have a great day!” *disconnects the call*

(I didn’t have an attorney as I’d been called to be a witness and was not a party to the suit, but I did eventually find the courthouse, just a block off the highway, no thanks to her. Although, upon arrival, I discovered that the civil matter I’d been summoned for had been resolved out of court days prior, my presence wasn’t required after all, and no one had bothered to let me, or at least two other witnesses, know.)

It’s the late 1980s. The reception area where I work mainly deals with incoming and outgoing mail and business clients. While I’m on my own, a well-dressed gentleman walks in and addresses me in an American accent.

Visitor:
“Good afternoon. I’m here to see Mr. [Senior Partner].”

Me:
“Oh, I’m sorry, sir, but the Partners’ Entrance is just across the way, over there. If you speak to the receptionists there they’ll be able to get Mr. [Senior Partner] for you.”

Visitor:
*Losing it* “G**D*** IT! I have flown all the way from San Francisco for an important meeting, and all you can do is tell me I’m in the wrong place! WHAT IS THE PROBLEM WITH THIS G**D*** COUNTRY?!” *Storms out*

I am left there, thinking to myself:

Me:
“I don’t know what the country’s problem is, but I know what yours is. Seriously, you just flew five and a half thousand miles and you’re complaining about walking another ten yards?”