I finally had my cast removed on April 1st, and it was a cruel April Fool’s trick: I thought I’d be returning the knee scooter and beginning PT. Instead,I had to get a CT scan. I did so on April 6th, and later that week I was told I had not yet grown enough new bone and would need to be NWB (non-weight bearing) for another 3 weeks. So, cast was off but the f-ing scooter remained with me. And, no PT.
I had a follow-up CT this week on Monday. I’d heard nothing from my doc, so I called today. My doc’s office tells me they don’t have a copy of the scan or the results. So, I call Simon Med where I had the CT done. The person at Simon Med says they FAXed everything to the FAX number on the script, and they received a confirmation. I’ve been through this sort of run-around way too often, so my patience is, well, zero.
So, I call the doc’s office back–no scan or report. I tell them I JUST talked to Simon Med and they said they sent it on Tuesday and got a confirmation and, because I was terse, they’d FAX everything again just moments ago. I get transferred to the nursing line, then to some other line, and then another line and another. My persistence pays off, and I get transferred to medical records. I insist on speaking to whomever is in charge and tell my story for the 40th time. She says she hasn’t received my stuff. Blah, blah, blah. Then she asks me what number Simon Med FAXed. How the hell do I know, right? Not my job. Blah, blah, blah. I wrangle her direct # of her and the “direct” FAX number–they have 15; I suggest that might be the problem.
Ring, ring. “Ah hi. I just called . . .” blah, blah, blah “Would you please FAX everything to this number? I know this is the 4th time you’ve FAXed this material today, and I so appreciate your help. blah, blah, blah. Thank you soooo much.
Ring, ring.”Hi this is desert. . ”
“Democrat, I know; this is the 4th time you’ve called.” Somehow I manage NOT to say what I was thinking–if you did your f-ing job, I wouldn’t need to make all these calls. “I just spoke to Simon Med again and was assured they were FAXing stuff to you while I was on the line. Could you please check again?”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” she says, “here it is.”
Me: “So what’s the next step?”
Her: “Well, I will scan this into your records and put it on Dr. Fabulous’ schedule.”
Me: “Could you please do that now? Yes, I understand you are busy; I am as well, and I’ve spent the last hour tracking down this information. I would really appreciate your help. And, well, it will mean I will stop calling you.”
Her: Well, in that case. . .”
Me: “So the doc will see this first thing in the am?”
Her: “Well, that I can’t say; I am not in charge of the doctors.”
Me: “OK, I guess I will be calling you first thing tomorrow am.”
Her: “Ah, I’ll send the notice with ‘high priority’.”
Me: “Thanks. I’ll call you tomorrow to follow-up.”