Yesterday, at the doctor’s office, someone ticked off this author. First time in a long time I wanted to start writing murder mysteries again–maybe not to kill her, but I’d certainly love to word-paint her in her true colors.
I walked into the doctor’s crowded outer office and waited in a short line to register, one couple ahead of me, one elderly lady at the window. On the other side of the window, a gum-poppin’ receptionist with a rhinestone-studded head band explained to the older woman that her insurance wasn’t accepted at this office. The girl looked barely over twenty, and to her credit, she was being as patient as she could. When she did get frustrated, she stepped away and let someone else talk with the rejected patient. Because of where I stood, I was able to see the receptionist roll her eyes to the heavens and flail her arms, but I doubt she was visible to anyone else.
The poor older woman had a hard time understanding why the only advantage she had with Medicare Advantage was to be publicly rejected and turned away. She politely argued with the girl for several minutes, explaining that the card she had was the same one they’d accepted long ago. Nothing had really changed–at least in her mind. The receptionist kept trying to explain that the card wasn’t excepted, and the woman would just gape at her. The older woman finally gave up her argument and turned away–shoulders stooped, lips tight, eyes dazed. It broke my heart to watch her leave.
But I also felt sorry for the receptionist. Imagine having to turn people away from medical attention! It’s a sad situation brought about by folks far away from here–and far out of touch with reality, but I’ll save that discussion for another time.
When I got to the window, I said, “That must’ve been hard for you, having to turn someone away like that.” I was expecting her to feel as heartbroken for the elderly patient as I felt.
Her response? “Yeah. Some folks just don’t get it.” Gum-smack. “Name?”
Is it just me, or does that seem lacking in compassion? I’m going to have to figure out how to put her in a book. I won’t kill her. A twist of fate will be far more fun.