8:07 am

“Hi. I need to talk to Dr. X”
“I’m sorry, he’s with a patient right now. Can I take a message?”
“Yeah… have him call me.”
“O… kay… and you are?”
“Mandy.” (not the real name)
“O… kay… last name?”
“Oh, he’d know me. I go to his church.”
“So… this is a personal call or patient-doctor matter?”
“I dunno… I want him to write me a prescription for my back pain.”
[Uhm, excuse me, our doctors will not write a prescription for patients they’ve never seen or if this is a new medical concern of patient’s].
“May I have your date of birth?”
[1. To pull up patient’s records for the nurse/doctor, and 2. To confirm patient’s identity]
“Why?”
[OMG… this ding-dong is really testing me]
“So I can get your chart ready for the nurse when she calls you back.”
“Well first, I don’t want to talk to any nurse. And, like I said, Dr. X knows me. He won’t need my chart.”
[Oh dear, she is REALLY testing me and this is too early for this kind of shit. I have all lines lit up and phone lines’ ringing over the hook].
“Ma’am, Dr. X has a lot of patients, even with the same first name of yours. I believe he’d remember who you are, but not your medical conditions. He and his nurse spesifically instructed us to always get patient’s chart ready for phone calls so they can see the meds you’re taking, your clinical history, and allergies if any.”
“Oh fine. Mandy Smith. DOB 7-21-1980. Call me back at 555-123-4567. Did you get all that?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”  

Click.

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