Healthcare Hijinks--A Rant in Two Parts

To recap, I found a lump, went to the doctor on the 4th of September, had a mammogram and sonogram that day. Scheduled a biopsy for the 9th, got the phone call from hell on the 10th.  Since then I've seen the surgeon and scheduled the MRI and the visit to the oncologist.

It is now the 19th, two weeks after my initial mammogram.  YESTERDAY I got a letter in the mail from the radiology center where I've been poked and scanned without anyone ever telling me that I'm pretty.  The letter referenced my visit on September 4th:  

"As a federally accredited facility we are required to notify you of the results of your recent breast imagine evaluation.  Your examination revealed an area of concern that needs further evaluation at this time." 

Area of concern?  Understatement, much?

The letter was typed up on September 12th, after I'd had the biopsy AND received the results.  From the same facility. 

That concerns me a little.  Yes, I understand that these radiology facilities are huge businesses with 4700 employees, each assigned to a specific task and no other. I am familiar with the medical model--I've seen ER and General Hospital.   However, I'm just me, a single person.  I should have just a single record in that building, right there in their computers, with every single procedure I have ever had with that company.  If the person typing the letter on September 12th had looked at my file, which they would have had to do in order to find my address, they should have noticed that I had had a biopsy three days prior, as well as what the results were.  These people certainly know where I am when it comes time to bill me, but they can't be bothered to update themselves regarding services I've received three doors down the hall in the same building?

"Area of concern", my big behind!  

I've also had enough of trying to schedule appointments.  When I was trying to schedule my biopsy, I was transferred to a person who didn't have their voice mail set up, so it hung up on me.  I called back, explained what happened, and they transferred me again.  Same thing.  After the third time, I got a bit testy, so they put me on hold while they went to investigate...and I got disconnected.  I tried one more time, only to be chastised by the person who answered the phone because obviously I should have spoken to the person who sets up those appointments.  You know, the person who wasn't answering their phone and didn't have voicemail set up?

After I saw the surgeon, I received a phone call from the practice letting me know that orders had been sent to this same facility for my MRI and that they would be calling me to schedule it.  But just in case they didn't call, she said, I was supposed to call them by the end of that day to make the appointment.  I followed her directions, and called at 4pm that day.

"We don't have any orders," the scheduler said.

"Look again," I said calmly, enunciating every word very clearly.  "They said that they sent them to you this morning.  They specifically called and told me that they did, so I could set up the MRI."

"Hold, please."

Three holds later, they still couldn't find the orders.  Really?

"So," I was still calm, but not really. "What am I supposed to do here?  Do I call over to the surgeon's office and yell at them for lying to me? Is that what you're saying?"

"Hold please."

While I was on hold that last time, I decided that I was not enhancing my Chi or whatever by getting angry about things I had no control over.  My need to have everything cancer-related done, finished, and completed as soon as possible so I could move on might never become reality, and I needed to just let go of that.   So I did what I could.  I pictured the Knight from Monty Python's Flying Circus, the one with the rubber chicken, slapping all of them over the heads with the bird. I meditated upon the Hand of God coming forth from the clouds above, smacking those thwarters of my calm upside their heads to reboot their competence. I visualized the large glass of wine I would be drinking once I arrived at home. 

Yeah, I need to work on my visualizations...

Has anyone else had a similar experience with the medical field?  Or is it just me?

Overscheduled vs. Underscheduled

I know some people who always have someplace to be.  Their days are a constant movement from one activity to another, from the early morning spin class to the late night business video conference.  They were constantly on the go, always someplace to be or something to get done.  When they did slow down long enough to have a conversation, I felt as though I was the victim of a drive-by-yakking instead of any sort of meaningful interaction.  Even at parties, when everyone is supposed to be relaxing, these individuals are talking at people using rehearsed talking points, instead of listening.  When that is finished, they consider their social duties done, and then it is time for the emails, phone calls, and texts that they can't get to at other times. 

Then these people had kids. One of them added three kids.  There would have to be some slowing down of the scheduling at last, I thought  Children have their own agendas, their own pace, their own schedule, right? No. They simply added the children into their schedules.  Now their kids have early morning tutoring before school, followed by chess, book, whatever club meetings after school, then it's off to gymnastics or football or soccer, followed by drive-by visits to the grandparents, then home to exactly 60 minutes of homework, dinner, bath, then bed.  I get exhausted just thinking about all that.

Those people scare me now.  I used to admire them at first, but after watching them flitting around, never stopping, I got tired.  How can every single minute of every single day be scheduled?  What happens to a brain when every minute you're scheduled to be doing something?  I can't believe that any actual thinking happens--your day is planned out, and you are constantly looking forward to make sure you get to the next item on the schedule.  And what are the kids learning?  That they have to be entertained or managed?  That they aren't allowed to have their own agendas?  That letting someone else(Mom or Dad) do all their planning is optimal?  What happens when these children are adults?  What happens when these adults retire? 

On the other end of this spectrum, there are the individuals who never schedule anything.  They aren't lazy, they just would rather be 'spontaneous' with their lives, they say.  They don't own an alarm clock. They get there when they get there, and if they don't get there, oh well.  Many of these people just don't want to make decisions. I have been in restaurants with people like this, and I've wanted to strangle them because they can't even pick out an item on the menu without a lot of hemming and hawing and hand wringing. They are terrified and therefore don't want to choose between vanilla or chocolate, wheat or white, short-sleeves or long-sleeves.   They lose money paying for missed appointments because they can't decide. They lose jobs because they can't make decisions at work. They lose friends,too, because what sort of regard can you have for a person who never shows up? 

For some individuals, having a schedule is a comfort, a safety net.  Sheldon, from The Big Bang Theory, who even has his bowel movements on a schedule, comes to mind.   The need to never schedule anything because something better might come along smacks of narcissism, a severe self-centered person who cowers in the center of a world that must revolve around their needs, but it seems to be more about fear and anxiety than selfishness. I have a mother-in-law who can't make decisions as simple as what shirt to wear; having her day planned out brings her some relief from her overwhelming anxiety.  I can certainly understand that need to have some control over your life.  However, control is mostly an illusion. There's no controlling for every single variable, and life is really just one variable after another.  You have to be able to adapt to the curve balls, the spitballs, as well as the fast pitches. Why am I using baseball metaphors?  I have no idea--I dislike baseball.  But just because I dislike something, or fear something, or outright hate it, doesn't mean that I will never have to deal with it.  I understand that. 

And me?  Where am I in all this scheduling mess?  Why, I am somewhere in the middle, which is why my family and I are enjoying our day off by being as unscheduled as possible, and why tomorrow we will go back to our regularly scheduled programming.