Is Gustav next?

Thursday was a rough day. Not for me, but for my front-desk personnel. I wouldn’t even have known about it, if Nilda hadn’t clued me in.

“I’m a preschool teacher,” she said, after asking about Botox for underarm sweating. “So I have a lot of patience. But your front-desk people are amazing.”

“What do you mean?” I asked her.

“This lady walks in without an appointment,” she said. “Several people are trying to check in, and she just waltzes over and says, ‘The doctor said I could come in whenever I wanted.’”

I smiled. “That’s Harriet. She’s worried that she has an infection. We make allowances for people over 90.”

“And then there was a woman who didn’t even want to be seen,” Nilda went on. “She’d gotten a bill she didn’t approve of, and she kept going on and on.

“Your secretary said she would call the insurance company to look into it, but the woman kept saying, ‘I’ve been a patient here for 20 years, and there’s never been a problem with the insurance.’

“It would have been fine for your secretary to politely tell the woman she’d take care of it, but now she had to get back to patients trying to register. But she didn’t lose her cool, just kept repeating that she would call the patient’s insurer and let her know.”

I thanked Nilda very much for the feedback. “Most people don’t bother to comment unless they have a complaint,” I said, “so I appreciate your taking the time to say something positive. I’ll be sure to pass it on.”

“And I thought preschool children were tough,” said Nilda.

At lunch, I asked the staff what had been going on.

“Must be a full moon,” said Irma, her eyes twinkling. “The registration desk was like a zoo, what with all the new patients and the old ones who hadn’t been here in years re-registering. And in the middle of it all, a lady whose husband had already checked in and sat down kept calling out, ‘Is Gustav next’?”

“The man sitting next to her – must have been Gustav himself – grumbled at her to please keep quiet, but she kept calling out, ‘Is Gustav next?’ 

“Then Dorit comes in, complaining about her bill. It turns out that her insurance changed in May, but she had forgotten about it, and she didn’t understand what the change would mean for payment. I told her I would call her insurer and find out.

“ ‘I’ve been a patient here for 20 years,’ she kept saying. ‘So don’t overcharge me!’

“I told her I would let her know what her insurer said and promised that we wouldn’t overcharge her on the copay.

“In the meantime, Harriet, the walk-in, kept standing in front of the window saying, ‘Doctor Rockoff said I could come in whenever I want, and my son-in-law took off work to bring me in and he’s waiting outside.’

“And while Harriet was saying that, the lady in the chair kept calling out, ‘Is Gustav next? Is Gustav next?’ ”

I smiled to myself, trying to think of which absurdist playwright could do justice to what went on that morning in my waiting room, and maybe on lots of mornings and afternoons in waiting rooms everywhere.

“You should know,” I told Irma and the rest of the staff, “that one of the patients commented on how well you all did. You handled all that insanity while staying cool and polite. Great job!”

Of course, we have to stay vigilant for rude or discourteous behavior on the part of our staff. But that same staff often protects us from some pretty unreasonable behavior that patients sometimes can throw at them. It makes sense to make a point of telling our front-desk representatives from time to time how much we appreciate the graceful way they handle the guff and allow us to focus on each patient in the exam room.

Meantime, I am working on my new drama, a sequel to Waiting for Godot. I will call it, Is Gustav Next?

Dr. Rockoff practices dermatology in Brookline, Mass., and is a longtime contributor to Skin & Allergy News. He serves on the clinical faculty at Tufts University, Boston, and has taught senior medical students and other trainees for 30 years.

Thursday was a rough day. Not for me, but for my front-desk personnel. I wouldn’t even have known about it, if Nilda hadn’t clued me in.

“I’m a preschool teacher,” she said, after asking about Botox for underarm sweating. “So I have a lot of patience. But your front-desk people are amazing.”

“What do you mean?” I asked her.

“This lady walks in without an appointment,” she said. “Several people are trying to check in, and she just waltzes over and says, ‘The doctor said I could come in whenever I wanted.’”

I smiled. “That’s Harriet. She’s worried that she has an infection. We make allowances for people over 90.”

“And then there was a woman who didn’t even want to be seen,” Nilda went on. “She’d gotten a bill she didn’t approve of, and she kept going on and on.

“Your secretary said she would call the insurance company to look into it, but the woman kept saying, ‘I’ve been a patient here for 20 years, and there’s never been a problem with the insurance.’

“It would have been fine for your secretary to politely tell the woman she’d take care of it, but now she had to get back to patients trying to register. But she didn’t lose her cool, just kept repeating that she would call the patient’s insurer and let her know.”

I thanked Nilda very much for the feedback. “Most people don’t bother to comment unless they have a complaint,” I said, “so I appreciate your taking the time to say something positive. I’ll be sure to pass it on.”

“And I thought preschool children were tough,” said Nilda.

At lunch, I asked the staff what had been going on.

“Must be a full moon,” said Irma, her eyes twinkling. “The registration desk was like a zoo, what with all the new patients and the old ones who hadn’t been here in years re-registering. And in the middle of it all, a lady whose husband had already checked in and sat down kept calling out, ‘Is Gustav next’?”

“The man sitting next to her – must have been Gustav himself – grumbled at her to please keep quiet, but she kept calling out, ‘Is Gustav next?’ 

“Then Dorit comes in, complaining about her bill. It turns out that her insurance changed in May, but she had forgotten about it, and she didn’t understand what the change would mean for payment. I told her I would call her insurer and find out.

“ ‘I’ve been a patient here for 20 years,’ she kept saying. ‘So don’t overcharge me!’

“I told her I would let her know what her insurer said and promised that we wouldn’t overcharge her on the copay.

“In the meantime, Harriet, the walk-in, kept standing in front of the window saying, ‘Doctor Rockoff said I could come in whenever I want, and my son-in-law took off work to bring me in and he’s waiting outside.’

“And while Harriet was saying that, the lady in the chair kept calling out, ‘Is Gustav next? Is Gustav next?’ ”

I smiled to myself, trying to think of which absurdist playwright could do justice to what went on that morning in my waiting room, and maybe on lots of mornings and afternoons in waiting rooms everywhere.

“You should know,” I told Irma and the rest of the staff, “that one of the patients commented on how well you all did. You handled all that insanity while staying cool and polite. Great job!”

Of course, we have to stay vigilant for rude or discourteous behavior on the part of our staff. But that same staff often protects us from some pretty unreasonable behavior that patients sometimes can throw at them. It makes sense to make a point of telling our front-desk representatives from time to time how much we appreciate the graceful way they handle the guff and allow us to focus on each patient in the exam room.

Meantime, I am working on my new drama, a sequel to Waiting for Godot. I will call it, Is Gustav Next?

Dr. Rockoff practices dermatology in Brookline, Mass., and is a longtime contributor to Skin & Allergy News. He serves on the clinical faculty at Tufts University, Boston, and has taught senior medical students and other trainees for 30 years.

Thursday was a rough day. Not for me, but for my front-desk personnel. I wouldn’t even have known about it, if Nilda hadn’t clued me in.

“I’m a preschool teacher,” she said, after asking about Botox for underarm sweating. “So I have a lot of patience. But your front-desk people are amazing.”

“What do you mean?” I asked her.

“This lady walks in without an appointment,” she said. “Several people are trying to check in, and she just waltzes over and says, ‘The doctor said I could come in whenever I wanted.’”

I smiled. “That’s Harriet. She’s worried that she has an infection. We make allowances for people over 90.”

“And then there was a woman who didn’t even want to be seen,” Nilda went on. “She’d gotten a bill she didn’t approve of, and she kept going on and on.

“Your secretary said she would call the insurance company to look into it, but the woman kept saying, ‘I’ve been a patient here for 20 years, and there’s never been a problem with the insurance.’

“It would have been fine for your secretary to politely tell the woman she’d take care of it, but now she had to get back to patients trying to register. But she didn’t lose her cool, just kept repeating that she would call the patient’s insurer and let her know.”

I thanked Nilda very much for the feedback. “Most people don’t bother to comment unless they have a complaint,” I said, “so I appreciate your taking the time to say something positive. I’ll be sure to pass it on.”

“And I thought preschool children were tough,” said Nilda.

At lunch, I asked the staff what had been going on.

“Must be a full moon,” said Irma, her eyes twinkling. “The registration desk was like a zoo, what with all the new patients and the old ones who hadn’t been here in years re-registering. And in the middle of it all, a lady whose husband had already checked in and sat down kept calling out, ‘Is Gustav next’?”

“The man sitting next to her – must have been Gustav himself – grumbled at her to please keep quiet, but she kept calling out, ‘Is Gustav next?’ 

“Then Dorit comes in, complaining about her bill. It turns out that her insurance changed in May, but she had forgotten about it, and she didn’t understand what the change would mean for payment. I told her I would call her insurer and find out.

“ ‘I’ve been a patient here for 20 years,’ she kept saying. ‘So don’t overcharge me!’

“I told her I would let her know what her insurer said and promised that we wouldn’t overcharge her on the copay.

“In the meantime, Harriet, the walk-in, kept standing in front of the window saying, ‘Doctor Rockoff said I could come in whenever I want, and my son-in-law took off work to bring me in and he’s waiting outside.’

“And while Harriet was saying that, the lady in the chair kept calling out, ‘Is Gustav next? Is Gustav next?’ ”

I smiled to myself, trying to think of which absurdist playwright could do justice to what went on that morning in my waiting room, and maybe on lots of mornings and afternoons in waiting rooms everywhere.

“You should know,” I told Irma and the rest of the staff, “that one of the patients commented on how well you all did. You handled all that insanity while staying cool and polite. Great job!”

Of course, we have to stay vigilant for rude or discourteous behavior on the part of our staff. But that same staff often protects us from some pretty unreasonable behavior that patients sometimes can throw at them. It makes sense to make a point of telling our front-desk representatives from time to time how much we appreciate the graceful way they handle the guff and allow us to focus on each patient in the exam room.

Meantime, I am working on my new drama, a sequel to Waiting for Godot. I will call it, Is Gustav Next?

Dr. Rockoff practices dermatology in Brookline, Mass., and is a longtime contributor to Skin & Allergy News. He serves on the clinical faculty at Tufts University, Boston, and has taught senior medical students and other trainees for 30 years.