It was the Tuesday after Labor Day, and the ride to work that very rainy morning was scary, to the point that I thought, "I shouldn't be driving in this weather." I have a Corolla; it's wonderful in many ways, but handling in bad weather isn't one of them. I thought that if this kept up, I wouldn't come in the next day, particularly since I had a long meeting in town that day and wouldn't have been expected to come in. I said as much to my manager at the time, but then I recalled that I'd promised a colleague that I would do something for her that morning, and resolved to come in in any case. That evening, I slipped on my way to the rubbish bin and stuck my arm out to catch myself, which resulted in my continuing to slip and sticking my arm through a window. I looked down and saw a flap sticking out of my forearm. I promptly stuck it back in position and pressed to stop the bleeding, and went to find my phone. This is the part where I realized I was glad I lived in Alexandria rather than DC, because the first responders arrived before I could go upstairs to get my wallet. But I digress.
I went to the emergency room--the first responders had wrapped the wound, but I would need stitches--and made two phone calls, the first to my carpooler to say that as far as I could tell I was still in for the following morning depending on how soon I got out of the ER (he suggested that I take the day off, and I concurred that that was a good idea). Then I called the colleague that was depending on me for the morning so that she could make other arrangements. I also asked her to tell my boss that I wouldn't be in, in case I wouldn't be up to it.
The good people at the ER took some X-rays to ensure that there was no glass in my arm, sewed it up for me, gave me some vicodin and sent me on my way.
The following morning, I made a few more phone calls, the first to my boss.
A.: Good morning, M. I wanted to let you know that I won't be coming in today...
M.: What, too much rain for ya?
A.: Well, no. I was in the emergency room last night and I'm still not feeling great.
M.: Oh, well! See you Thursday!
He did later apologize for that, saying that he wasn't really listening, but as one of you pointed out, that's still not acceptable. If you're a manager, part of your job is to listen. I'll also point out that that was one of his lesser offenses as a manager. For what it's worth, even though I didn't go into the office that morning, I did go to my meeting in town that afternoon.
I'd like to get back to not listening, because that will take us to the tale of the second asshole, my then-doctor. He was the third person I called (after my health insurance company). I let his office know of the ER visit and asked whether Dr. Heron would remove my stitches in two weeks' time. They confirmed that he would, confirmed that they would deal with my insurance as needed, and scheduled an appointment for the removal of the stitches.
So imagine my surprise when two weeks later, I come to that appointment and Dr. Heron tells me that (1) this is the first he'd heard of my trip to the ER and that too bad but since he didn't file the necessary paperwork, my insurance likely wouldn't cover anything to do with this incident and (2) he would not remove my stitches, because he did not put them in and for all he knew there could be glass inside the wound, which could open him up to liability. I reassured him that I called the office to inform them of my ER visit--in the same call that I made the very appointment in which I was participating, and that X-rays were taken to ensure no glass in the wound. He said it didn't matter that I'd made the call, because he had no record of it (don't you love it when people take responsibility for what goes on in their business), that X-rays didn't detect glass (odd, the ER people seemed to believe it did), and that he would absolutely not open himself up to liability. At that point I was in tears. All I wanted was to have those stitches out, and driving with them in was really no fun. Also, I could have gone to the ER at any time, and gone to yet another work meeting that I would have wanted to go to. Anyway, I drove myself to the ER, waited in the waiting room with screaming children, paid the ER copay, and got the stitches out. The ER staff were baffled at Dr. Heron's behavior. As I'd said in the previous post, I wrote a complaint letter to my insurance company (which, incidentally, covered most of the bill, and had no idea what the doctor was talking about), slammed him in an online review, and got a new doctor.
Of course, this wasn't the first time Dr. Heron had failed to impress me--this is where the not listening part really shines through, but I also have to take some responsibility for not having listened to myself. He was thoroughly unimpressive but I said to myself, 'look, you don't go to the doctor for anything but epipen prescriptions and referrals, and any moron with an MD can do that, so you may as well stick with the moron whose office is walking distance from where you live.' Anyway, let me tell you about my visit to the moron's office that summer:
Dr. Heron: How can I help you?
A.: I'd like a prescription for an epipen and a referral to an allergist, please. I've had epipens for several years now, and I most recently used one a few weeks ago when I was stung by a hornet.
Dr. Heron: You were stung by a hornet?
A.: Yes.
Dr. Heron: And you're allergic?
A.: Yes...
Dr. Heron: You must use an epipen when you get stung!
A.: I did use an epipen, which is why I've come for a prescription for another one.
Dr. Heron: Make sure you always use an epipen.
A.: Yes, I do use an epipen when I'm stung.
Dr. Heron: That's very important. Make sure you always carry it with you.
To my credit, I did not say 'shut the f* up and write me the m-f prescription so I can get one to always carry with me.'
You've gotta love it when people don't listen and then waste your time with information you already have.
The above experiences were annoying, but they pale in comparison to some of the experiences my friends have had with their doctors. There has been a spate of articles in the Times about how younger doctors especially are increasingly arrogant and bad at listening. Here are a few.
Disclaimer: I've also had good doctors, and I have friends who I know are amazing doctors. So I'm not here to slam doctors. (I have also had amazing managers--most of the time, really-- I've been quite blessed). I'm here to say that as with teachers, for example, the difference between good and bad has exponential consequences, and the bad ones can be really bad and are more prevalent than what would make sense.
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