Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me

Yesterday I had blood work done in preparation for my upcoming doctor's visit.  It took four hours.  There are few signs informing patients where to go or what to do, and, quite frankly, I found them confusing at best.  I stopped at the information desk for directions to the primary care clinic where I needed to see someone in their screening department.  When I entered the clinic, it was already full.  There were about a hundred people sitting in chairs and a line of about ten or twelve by the door.  There was a nurse doing triage for the people in line, and next to her was a woman who was signing people in.  (Usually, people sign in themselves at a touchscreen, but it wasn't working.)  There were four or five women at computers against the opposite wall who were doing something with patients, scheduling appointments, perhaps.  A clipboard was being passed down the line for people to log in their reason for being there. 

I waited in line to sign in, then proceeded to the screening department where I signed in again and waited to be called.  The screening process to determine my financial status was rather simple.  I received two cards needed to use the services of the hospital, and a primary care physical was assigned to me.  The screener assigned a number to me for my visit that day.  If I had known who to tell about that number, I could have saved myself a lot of time.

I then proceeded upstairs to the lab, where I signed in again.  The waiting area was overflowing with people.  After about an hour and a half, I was called back up to the area where I had signed in.  It was then that I discovered that I had been sitting there waiting for someone to assign a number to me for my lab visit, a number that had already been assigned by the primary care clinic screener.  I returned to my seat to wait to be called into the room to have my blood drawn. 

I think about what it wis like to wait for such a long time for those who are sick, need someone watch their kids for them, or are missing work to be there.  I think about the germs that are passed from person to person using the touchscreen to sign in.  I think about navigating government agencies with continuous busy signals and an automated answering system that takes you through a menu maze but does not allow you to speak to anyone when you finally do get through.  I think about conflicting and incomplete messages received.  For example, I received a notice to report to a location on January 26 in order to maintain my food stamp eligibility.  The letter stated that I would be advised of further requirements during the interview.  The letter concludes with, "Please be prepared to attend class all day.  Lunch will not be provided."  Okay.  I haven't the foggiest idea what this is all about.  What kind of requirements?  Is it an interview or a class?  A class for what?  I have an appointment elsewhere at 3:30 that afternoon.  Will I be through in time to make my appointment?  Will I be able to go home for lunch and get back on time?  Is there a place to eat if I bring my lunch?  I don't have enough information to make an informed decision, and the phone numbers given to call are busy. 

Okay, so I rescheduled my 3:30 appointment on the 26th.  It was the logical thing to do, but there was a part of me that didn't want to do that.  It was my third visit with my counselor, and I wanted to maintain the two-week interval that was just getting started.  Oh, well, it's not the first time that my counseling appointments have been rescheduled, and I'm sure it won't be the last.  Sometimes I try to hold onto things that I should let go. 

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