Mr. & Mrs. Old and the Awful, Terrible, Hideous, Disappearing Medical Form
January 2, 2024
Well, it all continues down the mole hole with Mr. & Mrs. Old trying to get an appointment for Mrs. Old. A medical appointment is like trying to sit up front with Taylor Swift at the Oscars. Mrs. Old resorts to calling her primary care provider, hoping for some care to be provided. Her doctor returns her call:
Mrs. Old: “Yes, thank you for calling me back. I just am having trouble making that MRI appointment.”
Dr. C.: “Oh? What’s the problem?”
Mrs. Old: “The Radiology Department appears to have fractioned itself off and is now in three different places in the hospital, apparently unaware of each other or how to transfer me to any of the split offs.”
Dr. C: “I’ll call it in.”
Mrs. C. “Well, but that isn’t going to get me my appointment, because….”
Dr. C: “….why is that?”
Mrs. Old: “…because I cannot ‘get’ an appointment without the ‘Appointment Approval Questionnaire’ form, which must be filled out before even making any appointment.”
Dr. C: “Well then, go ahead and fill out the form.” Big huge, fatty silence. She breaks it: “ What do you want me to do?”
Mrs. Old: “Can you approve the appointment or at least let them know I am mailing the form through the postal service, instead of handing it to them, because I don’t have any appointments there this week?”
Dr. C: “Sure.”
Mrs. Old: “Thank you. I’m not having any luck reaching them by phone. What number do you have for them?”
Dr. C: “All of them. But I never know which one to call. I’ll do my best ma’m.”. It seemed clear to Mrs. Old this was a pretty sniveling thing to bother a physician about anyway.
A day later, Mrs. Old thinks she better try mailing in the form she picked up from Radiology in person last time she was there, because of how often things go wrong trying to attach documents to her patient portal. She has had mail returned by Madigan Army Hospital before, so she calls ahead this time to check about that exact address. Information transfers her to the Mailroom.
Mrs. Old: “Hello, this is Mrs. Old in Olympia. Who am I speaking with please?”
“Mailroom….” a very aged and deep, raspy voice slogs out, “…Raandy.” He sounds right along there in his cups.
Mrs. Old: “I’m calling to ask what exact address I should use to mail a permission request form to the Radiology Department. My previous envelopes to several departments at the hospital have all been addressed correctly, but they came back marked ‘Return to Sender – Undeliverable’ without any reason for return. I’m glad Information could give me the Mailroom so I could ask you directly.”
Randy: “Yeah, m’am, but we don’t deliver mail.” Huge gaping silence. She can hear his wheezing. It sounds 80 proof.
Mrs. Old: “…but this is the mailroom, isn’t it?”
Randy: “Thaaat’s right.”
Mrs. Old: “And you don’t deliver mail?”
Randy: “No ma’aam, we just mail the mail.”
Mrs. Old: “How can I get this form to Radiology at the hospital then?”
Randy: “Bring it on in,” he kind of chuckles, or chuffs, hard to tell.
Mrs. Old: “But surely there is pouch-mail from the Lacey Madigan Satellite Clinic or something?”
Randy: “Nope.”
Mrs. Old: “Well, okay I guess, thank you anyway, Randy.”
Randy: “Sure thing. Good luck lady....”
Mrs. Old goes online and scrimmages through the online website the patient portal provides in order to access the proper ‘Appointment Approval Questionnaire’, determined not to make a one-and-a-half-hour drive just to ‘hand’ the frickin’ form to the Radiology Department if there even is anyone actually there anymore. Mr. Old tries to help by getting her a cup of decaf Pete’s coffee, her favorite now.
When things go South, like they always do, right next to the Canadian geese who know when to about-face, Mrs. Old calls one of the three Radiology Department extensions and is transferred twice before connecting with someone remotely able to take her call.
“Radiology, Grace,” says the voice.
Mrs. Old: “I have an MRI I need to schedule and I want to let you know that I have filled out the online ‘Appointment Approval Questionnaire’ form, so you can watch for it on the website I was given.”
Grace: “Perfect. We already have made your appointment, we just need the approval form before the time of your appointment.”
Mrs. Old: “Is there any way I can call you personally to see if you receive my online submission, since I’m having trouble with your three opposing arms of Radiology there at the hospital?”
Grace: “Unfortunately not, we’re short staffed and I float, but it will get to the right people, don’t worry.”
Mrs. Old does indeed worry and doesn’t like this answer one teensy bit.
Three days before the appointment Mr. Old gets a call for Mrs. Old on Mr. Old’s phone. It is Madigan Radiology; Grace again. Everyone at the hospital always calls Mr. Old even though Mrs. Old’s records actually have her very own phone number on them. The entire hospital does this. Her very problematic and squirrel-suit ‘Appointment Approval Questionnaire’ had her very own phone number on it, too. She tries not to think they’ve all been secretly told there at the hospital that Mrs. Old’s deck of cards has only 32 left.
Mr. Old: “Yes, she’s here….here you go.” He is always more pleasant to people on the phone than she is.
Mrs. Old: “Hello?”
Grace: “Hello Mrs. Old, I’m calling to ask you some questions prior to your MRI this Friday.”
Mrs. Old: “Ok, but I did fill out the questionnaire online some days ago.”
Grace: “Well, unfortunately, we don’t have it, but I can just ask you the questions over the phone.”
Gigantic free-fall squirrel suit flapping mouth-drop by Mrs. Old, without the unspoken profanity. “I am amazed, Grace,” she says in her nice-old-lady voice, “because I was told I couldn’t email it, and that I can’t ‘paper mail’ it because your mailroom doesn’t deliver mail. I was told I could ‘bring it in and hand it to Radiology,’ or that I could do it online. So,” — there’s a big quiet ascending air pocket — ….”… then, even the online didn’t work?”
Grace: “I’m sorry, but we just don’t have it.”
Mrs. Old continues being pleasant as she trundles upstairs carrying her phone, to her oak file cabinet, drawer #2, under Medical Records, section labeled ‘Mrs. Old - Madigan 2022 – 2023’ and lifts out the bulging manila file folder and opens it. There on top is the wretched form she is grateful she didn’t shred after scanning and uploading to the patient portal last week, and then again online days ago. There is the word “COPY” stamped on it in bright blue ink, and there are pencil notes in the margins about the myriad of ways she has tried to give this mandatory form to the frickin’ hospital, as well as the dates and who she spoke with, such as Information and Randy, and Dr. C. and Grace. “Go ahead, Grace, and ask the questions, I’ll read the answers to you from my form because I do have it here in my hand now,” all the while she is multi-tasking by thinking:
…….’Dear God, how I miss the old days. Can you put them back? Seriously. Love, Mrs. Old. P.S. Asking for a friend, and for all my friends and pretty much everyone I know and don’t know. Amen.’*
Disclaimer: I do acknowledge this was just an exercise in frustration about something important to Mrs. Old that seemed to be so very undelicious. Modern medicine is helping me in so many ways that were ‘not’ available in the ‘old days,’ and I appreciate and am grateful about that. ~~ signed: djl
