Ain't that just the way it is?
I get all kinds of fun phone calls here at the Surge, some entertaining, some borderline excruciating to get through. I especially love the ones that are a little bit of both, like the one I just received.
It’s from a lawyer’s office so naturally they want a patient’s records. No problem, send me the paper work, I’ll send you a fax of how much it will cost me to get my lazy ass up and photocopy it for you, you send me a check, I send you the records. It’s a pretty simple process to comprehend and no one has ever been perplexed by it…until today.
The minute I get the call sent to me by Pauline I know it’s going to be a doozy. This guy sounds as if he’s reading from a script that happens to have ‘um’ and ‘ah’ thrown in there every other word, like the kids that try to sell you candy on the subway to keep them out of trouble. He says the patient name which I have a habit of ignoring until I get the paperwork. My mind goes: yeah yeah yeah, get to the meat of this call, I’ll give you the fax number, you send it to me, and I’ll actually look up the patient when the time comes. My main objective is to get you off the phone as quickly as possible so I can go back to being antisocial at my desk.
He’s bumbling over his words when I hear ringing in the background. He asks to put me on hold and then hangs up on me. Just by him doing that, I know this guy is an intern at this firm and I pray to God he doesn’t try to go to law school. He calls back and gets Dorrette who tells me that I lost his call, like as if putting me on hold offends me to the point I have to hang up. I get back on the phone with the guy (notice he’s told me his name twice thus far and I have yet to even register it in my brain) and he mumbles about the pain management patient coming to our facility. “Sure, he probably came here,” I say. “I can’t release the records until I have the consent from the patient so send it on over.” He tells me okay and hangs up, not asking for a number to send it to or anything. I have a feeling this paperwork isn’t coming anytime soon.
Not even a minute later, Cassandra gets him again and when he asks for a Ms. Reed she argues that it’s Raab. They go back and forth for awhile, confusing the guy even more until she realizes that I’m both names (I’ve been waffling lately on hyphenating, going all the way new, or just sticking to what I knew for 27 years but that’s an identity crisis not pertaining to this particular story) and sends him over to me again. He states his name for me again (I don’t listen) just in case I have forgotten in the past two minutes (didn’t remember in the first place) and launches into his spiel once more. He reiterates he needs the records. I reiterate I need the paperwork. He tells me they sent it. I say I didn’t get it. He asks me why not? I tell him that sometimes things get misplaced and just send it again. And that’s when he lays this on me:
“I have a fax from you from February saying that you regret to inform us that this patient has never been at your facility.”
Shit. He got me. Apparently I did get the paperwork and then I actually did my job and looked up the patient and wrote a letter back. Huh. Interesting. He then goes on to accuse me that in the previous call I told him the patient came there and that the doctor has an office at the Surge.
“I never said the doctor has an office here. I said it was a surgery center which is like a hospital, that doctors come here to perform surgery and then leave and go to their own office. And I’m sorry I didn’t remember that I answered this request already. I receive a lot of these every day, luckily I kept this letter and I’m looking at it right now. The patient was never here.”
He pauses. “Yeah but you said the patient came there for injections!” He’s pleading with me as if his job depends on getting these records. I sigh heavily, dropping the professional voice and manner.
“Dude, I’m gonna be honest. When you called I didn’t bother to look up the patient so I assumed he came here but you already have a letter from me stating I have no records so why call? It hasn’t changed.”
He considers this for a moment then tells me we’ll be in touch. “No!” I exclaim. “No we don’t have to be in touch anymore. The guy never came here.” He tells me he’ll pass it on to his supervisor and she’ll call me. “No!” I exclaim. “She doesn’t have to call me either!” He pauses again.
“We’ll get back to you later today," he says affirmatively.
“Please don’t," I beg.
He responds with a click.
I respond with a sigh.
It’s from a lawyer’s office so naturally they want a patient’s records. No problem, send me the paper work, I’ll send you a fax of how much it will cost me to get my lazy ass up and photocopy it for you, you send me a check, I send you the records. It’s a pretty simple process to comprehend and no one has ever been perplexed by it…until today.
The minute I get the call sent to me by Pauline I know it’s going to be a doozy. This guy sounds as if he’s reading from a script that happens to have ‘um’ and ‘ah’ thrown in there every other word, like the kids that try to sell you candy on the subway to keep them out of trouble. He says the patient name which I have a habit of ignoring until I get the paperwork. My mind goes: yeah yeah yeah, get to the meat of this call, I’ll give you the fax number, you send it to me, and I’ll actually look up the patient when the time comes. My main objective is to get you off the phone as quickly as possible so I can go back to being antisocial at my desk.
He’s bumbling over his words when I hear ringing in the background. He asks to put me on hold and then hangs up on me. Just by him doing that, I know this guy is an intern at this firm and I pray to God he doesn’t try to go to law school. He calls back and gets Dorrette who tells me that I lost his call, like as if putting me on hold offends me to the point I have to hang up. I get back on the phone with the guy (notice he’s told me his name twice thus far and I have yet to even register it in my brain) and he mumbles about the pain management patient coming to our facility. “Sure, he probably came here,” I say. “I can’t release the records until I have the consent from the patient so send it on over.” He tells me okay and hangs up, not asking for a number to send it to or anything. I have a feeling this paperwork isn’t coming anytime soon.
Not even a minute later, Cassandra gets him again and when he asks for a Ms. Reed she argues that it’s Raab. They go back and forth for awhile, confusing the guy even more until she realizes that I’m both names (I’ve been waffling lately on hyphenating, going all the way new, or just sticking to what I knew for 27 years but that’s an identity crisis not pertaining to this particular story) and sends him over to me again. He states his name for me again (I don’t listen) just in case I have forgotten in the past two minutes (didn’t remember in the first place) and launches into his spiel once more. He reiterates he needs the records. I reiterate I need the paperwork. He tells me they sent it. I say I didn’t get it. He asks me why not? I tell him that sometimes things get misplaced and just send it again. And that’s when he lays this on me:
“I have a fax from you from February saying that you regret to inform us that this patient has never been at your facility.”
Shit. He got me. Apparently I did get the paperwork and then I actually did my job and looked up the patient and wrote a letter back. Huh. Interesting. He then goes on to accuse me that in the previous call I told him the patient came there and that the doctor has an office at the Surge.
“I never said the doctor has an office here. I said it was a surgery center which is like a hospital, that doctors come here to perform surgery and then leave and go to their own office. And I’m sorry I didn’t remember that I answered this request already. I receive a lot of these every day, luckily I kept this letter and I’m looking at it right now. The patient was never here.”
He pauses. “Yeah but you said the patient came there for injections!” He’s pleading with me as if his job depends on getting these records. I sigh heavily, dropping the professional voice and manner.
“Dude, I’m gonna be honest. When you called I didn’t bother to look up the patient so I assumed he came here but you already have a letter from me stating I have no records so why call? It hasn’t changed.”
He considers this for a moment then tells me we’ll be in touch. “No!” I exclaim. “No we don’t have to be in touch anymore. The guy never came here.” He tells me he’ll pass it on to his supervisor and she’ll call me. “No!” I exclaim. “She doesn’t have to call me either!” He pauses again.
“We’ll get back to you later today," he says affirmatively.
“Please don’t," I beg.
He responds with a click.
I respond with a sigh.