Just a heads-up. This is another in my continuing series of “Grumpy Old Man” blogs, for which I’m becoming quite renowned. So, brace yourself as necessary.
We decided to take Her Ladyship out to dinner for Mothers’ Day – something we haven’t done in a while. In fact, we haven’t been in a restaurant in quite some time. I made a reservation at a very nice place, one to which we hadn’t been for years. So, I booked a table and off we go. Now I’m not sure if lots of people make reservations and then don’t show up, or what. But in the course of the week, I received no less than three reminders, including one the day before, which demanded a confirmation. Are there people that make appointments and then forget about them? Is there an appointment / reservation crisis in our country of epic proportions? As a society, I’m not sure if we’re becoming less and less aware of commitments, or is a national forgetfulness bordering on dementia setting in.
Medical appointments tend to be the worse. I have light treatments for my hands, prescribed by my dermatologist, every Tuesday and Thursday morning, and have for almost a year now. It’s the same time every Tuesday and Thursday, and I am there for all of them except when their office is closed. But they take the precaution of calling me at least twice for each of these sessions, with a lengthy message about their procedures and protocols. Yes, I know to wear a mask. Yes, I’m well aware that I have to arrive a few minutes early. Yes, you won’t need to update my insurance information – it’s virtually the same as it was last week. For a while, I was receiving both phone and text messages. Apparently, the annoyance of phone calls isn’t quite enough. Every so often, I listen to our voice messages, just to see if anyone called besides a medical practice. Nope. Four new messages, and all from the dermatologist.
Our dentist’s office does the same thing. To be honest, though, they have good reason to because there’s a better than even chance that I’ll call and cancel the day before. I hate dentist appointments. In my defense, I do call and let them know. I never don’t not show up. A while back, the hygienist cleaning my teeth recommended that I arrange for cleanings every three months “because your insurance will pay for it”. I informed her that, no, six months is plenty, particularly as I have to steel myself for these fun-filled sessions. I told her that I hated to burst her bubble, but most people don’t consider having teeth cleaned a pleasurable, or even tolerable experience. One never overhears a conversation at a coffee shop or in line at the grocery store where someone says, “I have a dentist appointment tomorrow, and I can’t wait!”. These folks too believe in “overkill” – daily text reminders and a phone call the day before. It would be funny if the receptionist, when she calls, would just say to me, “So, Tom, are you actually going to show up this time?” She wouldn’t be totally wrong. On one of Her Ladyship’s cleanings, her appointment was at 9:00, so we arrived at 8:45. At 9:10, we were still waiting as another patient with a 9:15 appointment arrived and was taken right in. Controlling my temper rather well, I then asked the receptionist what that was all about. She said with a shrug that it was with another hygienist. Thinking they were interchangeable, I asked if we could have his, and that man could wait for 25 minutes. Of course, too, we have a regular routine where my dentist reminds me that I need to get a crown in one spot, and that we need to begin a rigorous program to replace fillings that I had put in when I was, well, much younger. As I mentioned in a previous blog, it seems to me that a good, well-constructed filling should last a lifetime or more, like Stonehenge. Anyway, I respond that yes, I’ll give that every consideration. Then I ignore it until something starts to hurt. That to me is God’s way of saying, “Get Your Teeth Fixed”. But I digress.
Eye doctors are similar to dentists and restaurant reservations. In my case, I’ve been to a specialist since my unfortunate torn retina. They do the same tests, which are really fun, and of course then I can’t see particularly well to drive home. The names of the two practices are quite similar, so I have to remember which is which. They’re not quite as pesky about reminders as the dentist or the dermatologist, but still . . . . . . At least our primary care doctor, who is wonderful, communicates through an email portal, so those reminders don’t drive me nuts.
And speaking of emails, is it really necessary for Amazon to ask how their delivery went? If my order shows up on the date that they told me it would, it was on my front porch, and not smashed to smithereens, that’s all I need. Don’t ask me if it “met my expectations”, or was a “thumbs up”. If it didn’t for any reason, you’d be hearing from me. (And yes, that has happened a couple of times.) Some of these national chains are needier than homeless people. They require constant, instant reinforcement. And sadly, anything less a perfect rating sends them into spasms of insecurity. “You didn’t give me a 5 out of 5 – what can I do better?” Well, stop calling or emailing for one thing. The part that I really like is, “is there anything else I can do for you today?” after I’ve called and they’ve taken care of the issue. I’m always tempted to say, “well, a bouquet of flowers and a gift card would be nice.”
We all get forgetful at times and need to be reminded. My coffee maker lets me know when the pot is full, and further when it’s been on a while and is shutting itself off. The dryer has an alarm that I don’t use, but the Princess does when she’s home and in “full laundry” mode.. It’s a friendly alarm somewhat reminiscent of the air raid alarms in 1942 London. That gets my blood pumping. The car lets me know if I’ve forgotten to buckle my seatbelt or the back hatch isn’t completely closed. Even the card scanner in the supermarket lets me know when to take out the card with a sound something like “nope, wrong” on Price is Right.
I think back to the golden age of little reminder cards, about the size of a business card, that we’d get when we made appointments. We’d take them home and clip them to the calendar everyone kept on the side of the refrigerator. We’re old-school and still do that. Now, the only one that does it is our hairdresser, and in just a hint of irony, those are the appointments we’re most likely to miss – either the wrong day, the wrong time, or just oops.
Well, off to make lunch because Herself and I have eye appointments this afternoon, and we don’t want to be late, or on time, or fashionably early. We’ve been reminded that we need to be there fifteen minutes ahead of the first scheduled appointment, so we can fill out the forms AGAIN, and then sit and wait, watching those coming in after us being ushered promptly into the doctor’s office.
A happy belated Mother’s Day to all mothers, stepmothers, grandmothers, aunts, and anyone else with a connection to young people.
I'm Thinking...No! 