Message shrouded in mystery
A sympathy card mailed from my doctor’s office left me wondering if I was the last to learn of a family tragedy.
The familiar condolence, “sorry for your loss,” is only offered when a death occurs. But whose? And why didn’t anyone tell me?
Investigation begins
I called one of my sisters wanting to know if there was a death in the family. “Not that I know of, why?” she asked. When I explained what happened, she added, “Hmm, maybe you should hang on to the sympathy card and bring it in the next time you have a checkup.”
Confusion continues
Since my next visit was just a few weeks away, I felt certain this would be cleared up by then. When I arrived and gave my insurance card to the woman at the front desk, she seemed perplexed.
“Are you a new patient?”
“No, I’ve been coming here for years.”
The plot thickens
Her frustration intensified as she continued to search for my name in the database. I showed her the card I was sent in the mail. She read it, gave it back then frantically typed something else. She seemed alarmed at what she found. She grabbed the card from my hand as if it were important evidence. “Um, it seems your sister called to cancel your appointment.”
“Why would she do that?”
“The notice here shows she said her brother died from cirrhosis of the liver.”
A ghost story
“But you can plainly see I’m still alive,” I replied in an aggrieved tone. My doctor arrived, took one look at me, looked away, then quickly looked back. The way the blood seemed to drain from her face, she looked as if she had seen a ghost.
The woman at the desk took the card to my doctor, they exchanged a few words, then formed a tight huddle. I was told there must have been a mix-up and that, since my doctor was not expecting me, a nurse practitioner would be able to see me.
Case closed
A day later I got a call from my doctor’s office informing me that, with a wrong keystroke, my name was mistakenly entered instead of the person who actually died from cirrhosis of the liver.
Final notice
I thought a good parting shot would have been to remind the woman that it’s in poor taste to send a bill to a dead man.
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Bill Heitland has authored three books: Adversity’s Early Light, Chance Evers and Two for the Seesaw