Friday, September 12, 2008

Scheduling an appointment . . .

Yesterday, Mrs. B had an epidural steroid injection at L5 to try to treat pains in her leg resulting from nerve irritation.

This morning, receptionist scheduling asshole at her surgeon's office called to set a follow-up appointment.

Scheduling Asshole: Is Mrs. B there?

Me: I'm sorry she's sleeping because of the procedure from yesterday.

SA: I know. I'm calling to schedule a follow-up appointment.

Me: I'll call you back when she wakes up.

SA: Well, then I'll just go ahead and schedule a time, and you can call back to confirm.

Me: (sotto voce - sigh. . . ) Why waste the time setting up an appointment when you don't know if we can make it?

SA: What do you mean?

Me: (sotto voce - listen, dumbass, what did I just say?) The appointment depends on my work schedule and her other appointments.

SA: Well, I can just schedule it then?

Me: (sotto voce - OK, I'll speak slowly, using small words) No, you can't do that.

SA: Why?

Me: (mental image of wrapping phone cord around her fat neck) Because you have NO idea whether or not we can make it on the day you schedule.

SA: If you know your work schedule, let's just set it now.

Me: (mental image of drawing and quartering Mel Gibson at the end of Braveheart) No, let's not. Give me your phone number, and I'll call you back.

SA: Call back soon so you won't miss out on an appointment. They're filling up fast.

Me: (mental image of strangling her under a blue-light special light at K-Mart) Right. Bye. Click.