I’ve been dealing with an issue with my right calf for a few months now. It’s not a blood clot, so I’ve been told, but it sure as h*** feels like one at times, and it comes and goes with no warning; it can happen while I’m eating, while I’m relaxing, or while I’m exercising, with no clear pattern.

This is my third visit to a physiotherapist, done in case it’s to do with weak ankles (which I’m not entirely convinced of, but hey ho). I explain that, despite doing my assigned exercises, I’ve experienced only slight improvement; it comes slightly less frequently.

Physiotherapist: “If zero is no improvement and 100% is completely improved, where would you say you fit on that scale?”

Me: “Seven, at best.”

She notes that and then goes over what exercises I’m actually doing. She briefly circles back to that statement a couple of minutes later:

Physiotherapist: “…but 70% improvement is really good, actually.”

Me: “I didn’t say seventy, I said seven.”

Physiotherapist: “Yes, seven out of ten. That’s 70%.”

Me: “You said out of 100! Seven out of 100 is 7%.”

Physiotherapist: “Fine.”

She moved on quickly from that, but I’ve been feeling rather niggled by it. Does 100% mean ten in physiotherapy speak, and I just didn’t get the memo?

I am a therapist working with children with learning difficulties, such as dyslexia and dyscalculia. I was having an intake interview with a new client, a nine-year-old girl with reading issues — she was a year and a half behind her peers — and her mother who accompanied her.

The girl told me that she hated reading, she thought it was boring, she didn’t like the stories, it was too difficult, et cetera. This is a typical answer I get from most kids with reading difficulties. When I asked her what shows she liked watching, she told me that she liked to watch exciting shows with lots of adventures. I also asked the girl and her mom whether or not they visited the local library. The mother told me that they didn’t because the girl doesn’t like reading, so the mom ended up buying her a few smaller books with large letters. She did this with the best of intentions, but it’s rare for this type of book to have exciting and adventurous stories.

When I told the girl about adventurous books for people with reading issues and the fact that she could borrow multiple books at the library for free, her eyes started to shine! She added that she liked funny pictures and special letters.

I told her that there were probably over a thousand books with exciting stories for children all over the world that she hadn’t read yet. I also pointed her toward a Dutch book series specifically made for children with dyslexia who want adventurous and exciting stories to read, as well as a book series “written” by an Italian mouse.

I swear that I haven’t seen any client get this excited over hearing about books in my entire career! It was genuinely heartwarming to see the glow in her eyes growing with every passing second. She immediately asked me to write some titles down and wanted to know when her local library was open. When she heard that the library was going to be closed before she had a chance to go, she was visibly disappointed. However, when I told her that the library was also open on the next day, a Saturday, she was ecstatic!

She went home with a massive smile on her face, and I can’t wait to see her again and hear about her first adventure in her local jungle of books!

I used to work as a therapeutic mentor. I was always very clear that my working hours were 8:00 am to 8:00 pm, Monday through Friday.

A teenage client texted me on a Sunday over a three-day weekend. I didn’t want to leave them hanging, so I texted back.

Me: “I’m not working right now, but if you need to talk to someone, you can call our on-call person at [phone number]. I’ll call you on Tuesday.”

On Tuesday, I followed up with the teenager and the rest of our team. The teenager’s mom set up a meeting with me and three of my coworkers. She then screamed at me for half an hour for not talking to her teenager over the weekend.

Mom: “You don’t care about your clients! You shouldn’t be doing this job. You’re just cold and heartless! Just wait until I speak to your manager about this!”

And so on.

We dropped that family as clients.

I wanted to start therapy to try to talk through some things that I’ve been dealing with. I found someone who took my insurance and had an opening in the next week.

On the morning of my appointment, someone from the office called. 

Office: “We need to reschedule your appointment for today. [Doctor] is overbooked and can’t take any new patients this week. We have [date two weeks from now].”

Me: “Oh. Yeah, okay, I understand.”

Office: “Great! See you then!”

Two weeks went by without a word. Then, on the morning of my appointment, they called again. 

Office: “We need to reschedule your appointment for today. [Doctor] is overbooked and can’t take any new patients this week. We have [date three weeks from now].”

Me: “Oh. Well, is anyone else available sooner? I—”

Office: “No, only [Doctor] is taking new patients. Do you want that appointment?”

Me: “Yeah, I’ll take it.”

Office: “Okay, sounds good. See you then!”

If you’re guessing what happened on the morning of my third first-appointment, you’re right. They called again.

Office: “We need to reschedule your appointment for today. [Doctor] is overbooked and can’t take any new patients this week. We have [date one month from now].”

Me: “You know, I’m just going to cancel.”

Office: “We really don’t advise that. We—”

Me: “You have cancelled my intake appointment three times because [Doctor] is overbooked. It’s clear that you’re overwhelmed and I’m just not going to be seen anytime soon. Thank you for your time, but I will not be rescheduling.”

Office: “Okay, good luck getting care somewhere else when you act like that.”

Me: “Excuse me? Who—”

She hung up without answering. I received an email saying I was dismissed from the practice for my behavior and lack of cooperation with the office staff. I feel like I’m better off looking elsewhere.

My therapist’s office does appointment reminders in the form of a recorded message — complete with the computer trying to pronounce my long and hard-to-pronounce name — that calls the day before an appointment. They also hand out little cards with your next appointment date written on them when you leave your appointment.

I usually let the calls go to voicemail and listen to them later since there’s not actually a person on the other end of the line, and to give myself another reminder about the appointment time. I’ve been having issues with this practice for a little while, and this was the last straw.

Me: “Weird.”

Wife: “What?”

Me: “That was the appointment reminder call for my therapy.”

Wife: “They called early this week.”

Me: “I don’t think they meant to. The robot said my appointment is set for Wednesday morning instead of Friday afternoon, and also it called me [Name not even remotely close to mine].”

Wife: “Your appointments are always on Fridays. What does your reminder card say?”

Me: “Friday, so it must have been a mistake.”

I don’t think anything of it and shrug it off as a random error — not even the worst one that’s come out of that office.

The next day, I check my phone after my work shift and I’m surprised to find a voicemail from the receptionist of the practice telling me I’ve missed my appointment. Baffled, I call them.

Me: “Hi, I’m… not entirely sure what happened. I have a set weekly appointment for Friday afternoons that has never changed, but I got a call this morning about a missed appointment?”

Receptionist: “Our attendance policy is pretty strict, you know. If you miss two appointments in a row, we remove you from our services and give your slot to someone who will actually use it.”

Me: “That’s the first I’m hearing about that, but okay. The problem is that my appointment is supposed to be on Friday. I’m not sure what happened, but I didn’t reschedule it, nor was I notified that the appointment time had changed.”

Receptionist: “We called you with an appointment reminder that clearly states the date and time of your appointment.”

Me: “Yes, I got a call last night, but the name on the message wasn’t mine, and the date and time of the appointment didn’t match up, so I assumed it was an error.”

Receptionist: “Our records show that we called you. You should have also received a reminder card at your last appointment.”

Me: “I did get a call, but like I said, the name the robot said during the message wasn’t mine, and I always have appointments on Fridays. I work Wednesday mornings; I would never have scheduled an appointment then. And my card says Friday.”

Receptionist: “I’ll talk to your doctor, but you should really make it to your appointments. We have a waiting list of people who would love to get in here.”

I hang up, still baffled and more than a little irritated. I save the voicemail to keep it from being deleted, confirm the date and time again on my reminder card, and go armed with that to the office on Friday when my appointment should be.

Receptionist: “Your appointment for this week was missed. You’ll have to come back next week. Our attendance policy is—”

Me: “I’m going to have to stop you right there. My appointments are always on Fridays, always, because of my job. I did not reschedule it, I did not ask for it to be rescheduled, and no one reached out to tell me the appointment had been moved.”

Receptionist: “We send out appointment reminders, and we also give out reminder cards that have the time of your next appointment on them.”

I play her the voicemail on speaker and show her my appointment time card with the date displayed on it.

Me: “I don’t know who [Name that isn’t mine] is, but their name doesn’t even come close to sounding like mine. I thought the call was a mistake because all the information was wrong and didn’t match the time card I got last week. I scheduled this appointment for this day at this time. I don’t know what happened, but I don’t think I should be penalized when there was clearly some kind of mix-up somewhere.”

Receptionist: “I’ll see if your doctor can squeeze you in today, but you really need to keep your appointments. We’re very busy.”

Me: “I am trying to keep my appointment — the one I scheduled for today, right now. Here’s the card you gave me last week that states my appointment was supposed to be today, not Wednesday. You heard the voicemail say someone else’s name and a time and date that don’t match what’s written on my card. Clearly, something went screwy somewhere, but it wasn’t on my end.”

Receptionist: “Okay, okay. I’ll call the doctor and see what we can do, but we’ll most likely have to reschedule. Please have a seat. I’ll call you up once we get this sorted.”

I take a seat in the nearly empty waiting room. Ten minutes pass. Twenty. Thirty. Finally, at the forty-five-minute mark, I go back up to the desk.

Me: “Excuse me. Is there any progress?”

Receptionist: “Ma’am, I’ve looked into this. Your appointment was on Wednesday and you got your reminder call. There is nothing more we can do for you. Come back next week. If you miss next week’s appointment, your slot will be given to someone on the waitlist.”

Me: “But my card says— You know what? Never mind. Cancel all my future appointments and give them to someone on that precious waitlist of yours. I won’t be back.”