The End of the Work Week=Horrible

I work in Orthopedics as a scheduler and managed care coordinator. The managed care coordinator title is just a glorified title that means I do all the front end insurance checks before a patient gets into clinic. The gate keeper, I suppose. Part of my job is to provide great customer service and let me tell you, some days it is tough to keep that chipper tone in my voice.

If I had my way, I'd let loose on exactly what I think about the oxycodone pill popper who calls on Thursday or Friday to ask for more pills because the 60 pills they got at the beginning of the week just plan ran out. Give me a freakin' break! Or the person who needs a check from the workers' claim office but didn't think to submit the paperwork until Thursday. And the paperwork is due Monday. Wonderful.

Yesterday, I received a call from a patient who said he had left a message on our triage line (which is only a message line) about paperwork that one of our trauma surgeons needed to complete for him so that he can receive his Social Security benefits. Mind you, when he called the first thing he said was "This is a medical emergency."

I'm thinking that his leg broke again or there is an infection in the wound area. The guy kept on going on and on about his medical emergency and I wasn't able to get a word in edgewise. I was able to deduce that it wasn't a medical emergency, he just needed the surgeon to fill out his paperwork. The paperwork was due on Monday. I asked him if the paperwork was in clinic.

"No, I have it. I left a message a few days ago and no one called me back," he exclaimed.
There was no telephone encounter in his file so either he was lying to me, which was plausible if he thought it would make his case more favorable, or he did leave a message but didn't say who he was or where to get a hold him. That second part was also very likely since some of our patients somehow think that we know who we are talking to when they call. Sometimes we do via caller ID, sometimes we don't.

"I don't see that there was a message left by you. I will have to transfer you to the triage line again so you can leave them a message. I will also send them a message myself so that they ara aware of your situation," I told him in my most calm and professional voice.

Again, he steamrolled me and went on and on about how important it was that the paperwork be filled out and ...

"I'm homeless. I need this money. If i don't get it turned in by Monday, I'll have to wait another 30 days. Can I talk to the doctor?" he asked.

"The doctor is not in clinic this week," I told him. "Do we have the paperwork?"

"No I have it!"

"Can you fax the paperwork to us or drop it off at our clinic?"

Again, the triade of his homelessness and how important it was to get the form in and "He's not here this week!" This is between side conversations with his girlfriend. Finally, he said, "What should I do?"

"Well," I began. "If you can stop interrupting me, I was going to say, you can drop the paperwork off in clinic but Dr. Friess is not in clinic this week. He may come and go but I really don't know if he will."

"Bitch---" he started. I hung up.

First off, after listening to his barrage and not being listened to, I'm not going to sit there and take his verbal abuse. So I hung up. It's not my problem if his lazy ass didn't get the paperwork to our clinic and it certainly isn't my problem if he waited until Thursday to check back again. If you want me to be helpful, which I was anyway because I put in the phone message, you better be nicer and acting the way he did and then calling me a bitch is the fastest way to get zero help.

I put in the phone message, wrote an email to my supervisors, and went back to the usual work routine. He sounded like he would be a volatile patient if he showed up and the way he was acting on the phone...paging Dr. Strong!

A half hour later I get a call back from him. This time, besides saying that this was a medical emergency, he told me that he thought we were unprofessional especially the girl he was talking to.

"I know her voice. I'm going to be in clinic in about 10 minutes with my paperwork and I want it signed!" he told me.

Suurrre, you know her voice. You're talking to her, fucker.

Since Dr. Friess wasn't in, he wanted to know if someone higher up can do it and if he can talk to someone with more authority. When I told him that my supervisors were not in their office, he was even more incensed and hung up on me. Ugh! Whatever though.

Rebecca, our practice manager, said she would talk to him. She warned the front desk to call her if he came in. Alex, one of our front desk guys, sent me a google message and told me that he left a message on triage and said "why don't you suck a dick!" Ummm....okay. It sounded to me, when I was talking to him, like he wanted to confront me. Unbeknowest to our patients, the scheduling office is not located in the clinic. In any of the clinics.

So...Alex told Rebecca and it was advised that if the patient showed, call Public Safety and page her.

I don't know if he ever came to clinic. What a bastard!

Today....well, today. I picked up a call from a lady who wanted to cancel her appointment with one of our Spine doctors. She also wanted to leave a message for our foot specialist but before I could send her to triage to leave said message, she had a breakdown. Started psuedo yelling at me and it sounded like she was going to cry.

"I have a note here from Dr. ___ who says that my foot is fine except my foot isn't fine. I've have had it with you people. Cancel all of my appointments. I don't ever want to come back to you," she cried.

This was all to my very innocent question: "And what is the reason for your cancellation?"

Before I could nicely ask her if she would like me to transfer her to the triage line to leave her message, she hung up on me. That bitch. I should just cancel her ENT appointments too. Ugh!

So...yes...we get some pretty interesting calls. Aggravating. If I can reach through the phone lines and bitch slap a person, I would.