Having heard no confirmation of surgery from my PCP I called the insurance company first thing this morning to discover that the insurance had approved the surgery BUT my PCP had not yet cleared me for the procedure.
I called my PCP who told me that they have no order for surgery. I pointed out that I was holding in my hand a copy of the order that they made for me from their files and provided them the date. Somehow that got through to them. I called the surgeon's staff to try to coordinate the paperwork AGAIN with my PCP office.
As I said, it is like herding cats. Does everyone have to go through weeks of double-checking details for common medical procedures? The surgery is in two weeks - the 13th - I HOPE!
***The 13th will be here and gone poof just like that. Don’t sweat it, you’re in the short rows now. Things are looking up***
:^D Could I get you to send that msg to my PCP?
Hopefully I have finally broken the dam!
I have had a few surgeries, as has the DH, and I have never heard of such incompetence. Somebody is not doing his job right.
Prayers up for your surgery and recovery.
“””:^D Could I get you to send that msg to my PCP?
Hopefully I have finally broken the dam!”””
If your PCP is like my PCP, well, just don’t get discouraged.
Went to mine just last week for a short follow up appointment.
When I pulled into the parking lot, I noted it was about 80% full. Not a good sign.
Walked through the front door to be met with two big shiny new kiosks, that if I had OBEYED the textmail I had been sent, I could have pre-checked in online. Huh? But I didn’t.
I’m not here for them, they’re supposed to be here for ME!!!
Sometimes I’m selfish like that.
Beside the kiosks was one of the normal front desk persons sitting on a stool behind a small rolling desk with a laptop on top, obviously not very happy even though it appeared to be a temporary set up.
Fortunately, one of the regular front desk persons was in her regular spot and called out to me, “Mr. haffast, I can check you in right here”. Kinda sing songy like. Welcome words. They’ve been trained to recognize mental feebleness on sight.
But then I thought, how did she know my name? Had I been photo ID’d as I walked in the door? Good guess with knowledge of who was scheduled to arrive at that time? :o
Before walking over to the big table, I glanced back at the person behind the small desk sitting on the stool and said, “Won’t they let you sit at the big kid’s table?” and got an unhappy smirk as a reply.
After trading my $10 for a green sheet of paper, I caned my way past the lab waiting room full of sad folks waiting to be stuck (I was to be one of the dreadful(having to wait in line) after seeing the doctor) and staked out my position in the doctor’s waiting room.
Fifteen minutes later my doctor’s new statuesque blonde nurse opens a door and calls out “Mr. ast”. No one answered and everyone looked around.
“Did you mean “haffast” I called out?” She squinted at her paper and said, “Oh I’m sorry, I wrote your name down wrong!”
“No problem” I sez, I could easily overlook that mistake for that tall drink of water.
As I hobbled towards the door I noticed the others left in the W A I T I N G room with that mad look of “I was here before he was how is he going in before me!”
HA HA suckers, I lead a blessed life!
“Weight.” Yes. “Temperature?” Yes. “BP?” Yes. “Same drugstore?” Yes. “And why are you here today?” “To make new friends.”
“You guys are busy.”
“Yes, yesterday we all had our noses pressed against the front window looking for patients. Today the schedulers have run a bunch of physicals and special procedures in the same time needed for just a normal office visit.”
“You mean those appointment schedulers that field the calls offsite twenty miles into Charlotte at a different location for about 90 doctors, about eighteen miles south of the billing office located at a different location, which is 23 miles north of the emergency triage nurse call center, the special ambulatory and hospital schedulers that could be anywhere, all connected by a funky computer network and phone system overseen by some gamer-boy nerd with no concept of the idea that some people are not intuitive enough to figure out their patient user portal?”
“Why yes, how did you know that?”
“I’m old. I’ve experienced things. Why doesn’t the office manager, if you can find one as they circumnavigate all the locations, draw up some list of procedures and maybe color code them with the time necessary to perform them to aid the schedulers in their job?”
“That’s genius! You want a job? If I can figure out who to tell I’m going to tell them about that.”
Apparently the air is thin at that attitude. I’m wondering if she likes to slow dance.
“Depression survey?” “You got a pen?”
“I had to borrow one, let me go find you one.”
Awe inspiring Mt. Everest glides out of the room. Did I mention I like slow dancing with tall women?
Never returns with a pen. They’ll never know how depressed I was, or was not.
Then silence. Except for the muffled voice of my doctor running behind three other appointments.
Finally he bursts in obviously in a rush. Bim, bam, boom, get him stuck real soon, off to the lab and turn him loose.
Miss Everest leads the way to the lab as I gladly follow, but knowing the punishment of waiting is to follow.
I take my seat among about ten people in the lab waiting room, and the friendly retired fella next to me starts telling me all about his life on the road 43 years as a truck driver. He pulls out a picture of what looks like a crushed Coke can.
“What’s that” I ask him.
“That’s whats left of my Peterbuilt after a wreck I had. They had to cut me out of it.”
I’m shocked. “That’s a God thing that you survived!”
He seemed un-expecting of my reply.
A door pops open, and one of two stickers calls out my name and takes me back to draw the life’s essence out of my arm.
“I think I’m a quart low.” Let’s try my other arm after probing around for a good stick. There ya go. Yeah. We got a gusher.
I get a half sheet of white paper and walk back through the lab waiting room.
My eyes lock with some lady, I look down at my paper, look at her and say with a bewildered look, “This paper says I’m pregnant!”
The whole waiting room bursts out laughing.
The things I’ll do to brighten someone’s day. I’m considerate like that you know.
Since I had been fasting for the bloodwork, I was more than hungry, I was hongry! I coulda eaten the rear end out of a wooden hobby horse, but I had chicken instead.
Grin and bear it, Bob, and maybe you can have some chicken too.
That’ll make it all better, and you’ll forget about being stuck for all those years! :)
PS: Got a bill today in the mail from the lab for $5. Yes, they spent $2-$3 processing to bill me to get $5. Haven’t seen the lab results yet.