This post is regarding my broken leg. I won't be offended if you click off. I know it's a tedious subject. I'm bored of it myself. Deep into my 10th week of healing (75 days), and I'm still not putting weight on it or able to sleep without the boot. I haven't started PT yet. I still have no idea how much longer it will be before I can drive. In fact, I'm not sure in which of the end-of-year events on our long-term calendar I'll actually be able to participate, come June.
I was supposed to see the doctor today about my foot. Based on my past experience, I wasn't expecting answers to all of my questions. I was hoping for answers to some.
What I got was a rather powerful lesson in courtesy.
Sometime around noon today the doc's office called to let me know they were "rescheduling" my appointment. No reason given. So I begged someone to watch my class while I called to find out what was going on. Apparently the doc decided not to have evening hours any more. And by evening I mean anything after 4. Now, I don't mean to whine, but one of the reasons I chose this office was because they had later hours.
Setting that aside, though, today's incident was bad business, plain and simple. He did not wake up sick this morning and have to call in. He made a plan to change his practice. Whether he put that plan in motion this morning or last month, surely someone could have noticed existing appointments and rescheduled them in a more timely fashion. After all, some of those appointments were made by people who cannot drive themselves.
I called the clinic to express my frustration. I got the switchboard at the main office. They noted my frustration, but made no apology. I had to insist (and I hate insisting) on an appointment after 4 - with anyone at all. They "supposed" they could get me in at 4:10 tomorrow. I have rarely felt so ... ignored.
After begging no less than a dozen wonderful people who all had very legitimate previous engagements, I finally managed to find a ride. Then I re-arranged a parent-meeting I had set for tomorrow. And got permission from my boss to leave a few minutes early to make the early time. So... tomorrow.
Tomorrow, I'll see a doctor who's going to be less-than-happy to see me after-hours to (hopefully) get at least some of my questions answered. I'll smile at an office staff who clearly can't manage their own calendars. I'll pay for service that I have to accept because I can't (realistically) transfer anywhere else at this point. I'll schedule my next appointment with my fingers crossed.
Obviously I left work in a less than lovely mood.
Thanks to the coworker who was driving today, I was able to stop at the grocery store on the way home. While she was parking the car, the courtesy clerk came, took my crutches, and hooked me up with one of those beepy-wheely-carts (my first time with one). The clerk was friendly - laughing and helping me get situated. He even offered to have someone go around with me to reach the high shelves.
When my driver joined me, she did the reaching for me. She insisted on searching for the wine I liked. She didn't mind when we had to schooch back to the entrance side of the store because I forgot an ingredient I needed for the one dish I'm actually cooking this week. She didn't judge when I also grabbed a frozen pizza and a mini-cheesecake. It was no big deal to her to help me out.
And I felt much better when I left, still laughing about the wine & cheesecake. The courtesy clerk and my wonderful co-worker treated me like a person. A human, with feelings and needs and desires that matter. They treated me like I mattered.
Which, is the point of this very rambling post. Whatever you are doing, please, treat people like they matter. They really do. And your courtesy could turn around their whole day.
Anxiety weighs down the heart, but a kind word cheers it up. Proverbs 12:25 (Of course 12:16 leaves me feeling a bit foolish. Sigh. Always learning).
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Thanks for sharing your random thoughts, too!