Poker Perambulation

Yeah, that's a mixed bag. The blood part is simple. It was mine and the doc wanted it tested. Guts is that lovable hospital that will likely get the enjoyment of pulling the sheet up over my eyes. Customer service may be the thing that is still trying to get attention as those dieing synapse look back

I have a supposedly good doctor. Good reputation and serves a lot of nurses – oops, health care professionals, sorry. But, his staff's attention to detail is such that I'm questioning how well he's allowed to function. But, every quarter he does write on his scrip pad what I find is $400 worth of blood testing. (Retail price with insurance payments getting about a 500% discount.) I seem to have a lazy liver.

Anyway, this morning I decided to get the test performed. Up and out early with no breakfast. I get to the place and there is this women with a bluewhatever earbud that evidently is used to indicate ship's captains these days. Or teaching nun might be the job description but I didn't see the ruler.

I was being treated like a recalcitrant child. I was asked to do nothing; I was told to do everything. Now the day hadn't started off well. I had a run in with the tenant again parking me in and heard the lame excuses. This lady wasn't improving my outlook. So, I grabbed up the scrip and went down the street. They were more courteous. I filled out this silly form and she put it in the pile and said I could sit down. I waited about a half hour and then went to ask. No info; just go sit until we call you. So, I asked for it back yet again. It was still sitting there in the pile. This was no where near where the lab scheduled things. It was a receptionist that didn't see a need to rush.

Now, our local hospital in my youth was run by some nuns and there was this one about 4' tall and wizened that stop all talking within 50' as she walked the hall. But, for not much more than the price of a nice hotel room, you got taken care of by people that cared. You even got a back rub. That grumpy wife of Christ was the exception instead of the norm.

All this made me think about Cliff Larue. Well, who wouldn't, right? Cliff was a suit salesmen at Jack Fox and Sons. In that day, for the similar $400 I could have three nice Hart-Shafner&Marx suit and some shirts (w. the 36” sleeves I require) and some silk ties. But this isn't about the decline of the dollar. Cliff would call me when there was a sale and he had things in my size he thought I might like. When I bought a suit another nice fellow came out and discussed everything necessary for the alteration. It was chalked and pinned and then fitted the second time after alterations were done.  In all this, there were no forms or third degrees.


Cliff had these 3x5 cards. It showed what I'd bought over the years. So, when he called he did it with knowledge of my taste and buying patterns. He had the info he needed at hand every time he ever saw me. It was like he'd looked into my closet that morning.

When I get my quarterly blood test, it is the same new Xeroxing of my Medicare card and driver's license and assorted crap. It is filling in or answering the same questions I have answered there about 18 times since I went on Medicare. Now all this takes place on a SOTA (read expense no object) computer systems that has stored pictures and data of all that. The questions are all asked on the long-shot chance, I might have moved or whatever. Information can be verified simpler and easier for all. But, I'm guessing they wouldn't find it to be nearly as enjoyable or Fascist. I keep saying to the drone, “Believe me here. Nothing has changed since my last visit although the underwear has been washed.” and that's discounted – evidently in the name of hygiene and science – because there isn't a rational excuse for calling me a liar at that point.

Who's to blame? No! It is Walmart. Then, throw in you and me. Walmart is the last place you can find Jack Fox prices on suits. If you are cheap, you'll accept the imitation cloth, surly underpaid clerks, and, of course, lead and cadmium levels. You'll do this because you are cheap and willing to trade away respect. Others, like hospitals and labs see this and don't even have competition. The world is degentrified and you're now a number attached to a profit center that will keep cheapening the service as they drive up the price.

George Orwell was an optimist.

ADDENDUM:

Otis might find it interesting that the first place had a big sign up on the wall disclaiming responsibility etc. for anesthesiologists, radiologist, ER physicians and a host of doctoring trades.

They tell you to expect being billed by others and to take any discrepancies up with them and not your warm and caring hospital.  P.S.  Prez Obama please ship us all the mobney.


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