**ring** **ring**
“Hello?”
“Hi,” I say as chipper as possible, despite being in both pain and a bad mood. “The urgent care sent over a referral for me 10 days ago, but I haven’t heard from you about an appointment.”
She looks me up in the system and, sure enough, finds the referral.
“Yes, we haven’t contacted you to set up an appointment because the doctor didn’t send over the office notes yet.”
“Oh,” I said. “Did you let him know you’re waiting for those?”
“That’s not our responsibility,” she said as a matter-of-fact.
“Oh. Were you going to tell me that he hasn’t sent the notes?”
“That’s not our responsibility. You can reach out to the doctor and tell him to send the notes over.”
Now I’m getting frustrated.
“Let’s say I do that, and he says that he sent them. How will I know you received them?”
“You can call us to see if we got them,” she says.
I can feel my jaw clenching.
“So, just to be clear, it sounds like you’re putting the burden and responsibility of the healthcare industry on me, the patient, who is scared and in pain. The urgent care doctor also told me I’d never get in to see a specialist, even with a referral.”
“I wouldn’t say never. Might be 4, maybe 5 months.”
“I’m sorry, I’m really not trying to be rude, but I’m in pain and experiencing some symptoms that are pretty uncommon at my age. I’ve been instructed to see a specialist to make sure it’s not something really bad, or catch it early if it is. What am I supposed to do?”
“Honey,” she breathes, “that’s just how it is now.”
Taking responsibility, and control
The next day I drop Milo off at school and drive over to the specialists’ office right as they open. I’ve got a physical copy of the doctor’s notes that he gave me back at the urgent care, warning me something like this was likely to happen.
There’s a friendly greeter as I walk through the doors.
“Do you have an appointment?”
I give her the scoop.
“In that case, fill out this request for an appointment. Then someone should call you within a few days to set something up.”
Then she looks down, as if she suddenly felt the weight of the entire healthcare system on her shoulders.
“If they don’t call you, call us back and keep calling until you get someone. You just keep fighting.”
I thank her and ask, “What are the odds I actually get an appointment?”
“Well, it’ll probably be 4 months since it’s not an emergency.”
I finally explode (in the nicest possible way, without raising my voice, and in an even tone). I give her the history of my symptoms, what I’ve already been told, and that I personally know a handful of “young” people who have had rare and unusual illnesses regardless of how uncommon they are.
At that moment, the lady at the front desk stands up. She’s been overhearing our conversation and beckons me to come over.
The power of one interaction
Turns out, she’s just covering the front desk. She actually works in the back, directly with the doctors, and has direct access to the scheduling calendar.
“It’s nonsense what’s going on these days,” she says. “We’re told to tell non-emergencies it’ll be 4 months until they can be seen. But I have openings for doctors next week, even tomorrow. How’s tomorrow at 11 work for you?”
I can’t believe it.
“Yes, I’ll take it! Thank you so much.”
The next morning I walk in and thank the greeter, who is just beaming to see me. The appointment goes well, all the healthcare practitioners and staff are super kind, they rule out anything super rare or threatening, and get me on a conservative pathway to healing – making all my follow-up appointments on the spot.
Before I leave, I stop by the greeter.
“Again, thank you so much for taking the time to work with me yesterday.”
“Wasn’t that amazing?” she says. “That woman at the desk was able to get you right in. It just goes to show that it’s really hard to ignore a human body.”
The great, big disconnect
I can’t stop thinking about that phrase. It’s really hard to ignore a human body.
Yes, of course that’s true. When someone is on the other end of an email, a text, or even a phone call, it’s much easier to dismiss them as if they aren’t even a real person. To treat them as if they aren’t a human who deserves to be heard, understood, and valued.
But, isn’t that the entire problem?
We now live in a world where faceless and asynchronous communication are the norm. We are distanced from them in space, so we feel distanced from them emotionally. And that leads to a lack of understanding, respect, empathy, and basic human dignity.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we lived in a world where you didn’t have to physically show up and bang your fists on the table – metaphorically or otherwise – just to be treated as a person with value?
We can do better. We must do better.
Will you join the human connection revolution?
Nearly every organization and industry is desperately trying to push humanity out of the equation. But mark my words, the only organizations who will survive the wave of disruption are those who double-down on human connection. Who build a culture of belonging. Who make it a daily practice to say “I hear you, I see you, and I’m here for you – even if we don’t always agree.”
The human connection revolution is upon us. Don’t just join it — lead it.
Want to bring the human connection revolution to your organization?
I’m nearly booked up for 2024 and booking speaking dates into 2025. Check out my new speaker reel below and hit “Event Consultation” to schedule a discovery call.
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