I’d like to think that I’m a pretty healthy person.  I try to watch what I eat, get plenty of sleep, work on getting some steps in – you know the routine.  I’m turning 54 this year, so it’s a stark realization that I’m looking forward to fewer days ahead of me than have passed behind me (unless I follow in the footsteps of my great-grandmother – who lived to be 111), so I have to pay more attention to my aches and pains in order to make sure that future timeline is as long as possible.

Anyway, I recently had an issue that required me to get a doctor involved – not only to diagnose the problem, but also for peace of mind.  Since my visits to folks in the medical profession are few and far between, I am generally un-initiated as to the complex maze of procedures and steps required to be treated in the U.S. healthcare system.

First off, you need an appointment to be seen.  Since this was a specific issue, I naively tried to call the specialist’s office directly.  Let’s start by saying that one first has to navigate the menu options of the automated phone system just to try and get to someone who can make an appointment.  After getting though to a scheduling receptionist (after a 10-15 minute phone hold), I explained my issue and asked for a time slot. 

Did I have a referral?  No, I figured it was best to call the office of where I deduced this issue was eventually going to land.   Ha-ha-ha!  Whooo!  That’s a good one.  They admired my enthusiasm. 

Am I an existing patient?  No.  Well, buckle up, cowboy, because there aren’t any spaces available for “new” patients for at least two months, but we can book you an appointment for then. 

Do I have insurance?  Yes.  Good, because if I didn’t, this conversation was going to go badly from here on out.  Even so, give us all of your info, and we’ll check to see if you’d be covered (I was – thankfully, I have pretty good health insurance).

OK, we’ll set up an appointment.  Hopefully, your issue doesn’t get any worse, but if it does – go to the emergency room – another nightmare of waiting and red tape.  My experience with emergency rooms is that if you’re not actively bleeding on the floor, you’ll be sitting in a waiting room for hours or on a stretcher in a back hallway, aging like a Parmesan cheese wheel in an abandoned Italian barn before anyone even pulls back the curtain to see if you’re still alive. 

Back to our specialist office.  By the way, we’re going to send you a link to our electronic system, which you’ll have to acknowledge and work through prior to coming in.  As an aside, call your regular doctor and see if you can be seen and – in turn – get a referral.

So I call my regular doctor.  Same scenario as above, but they did get me in for an appointment that afternoon (a small miracle, in my mind).

My physician is part of this vast healthcare conglomerate, so a visit to see them is a bit daunting.  Again, I entered a lobby of a large “medical campus” , was quizzed again about my issue, required to provide proof of insurance, shown to another waiting room, and even then could only see the nurse practitioner (since the doctor was busy).  I was given my examination, told that some bloodwork and other tests were needed, and also “referred” for some other procedures.   I exited the doctor’s office and was then moved down the medical assembly line to the lab, where my tests were conducted.  On the way out I was given a link to another electronic system, where my test results and other info would be waiting once completed.

I am now currently waiting on my referral appointments to be made and completed before I will eventually (and most likely) be sent back to the original specialist I cold-called to start this process – just to make another appointment to be seen (and hopefully sooner than my woeful attempt at being proactive).

All this work and churn for a one-off issue (hopefully).

I can’t imagine the time and effort required to manage a chronic condition in this day and age, although I sat next to quite a few battle-weary veterans of the process in various waiting rooms.  They all just had that vacant look of surrender as they navigated their own medical issues.  The cottage industry of scheduling, paperwork, insurance payments, and data transfers required to complete even one visit is staggering.  I know in order to just see my regular doctor I interacted with at least four people. 

To attempt to see a specialist?  Double that – and I haven’t even been there yet.

All I can say is to drink plenty of water, take a multi-vitamin, and hope you won the lottery in the genetic/hereditary pool.

There’s got to be a better way.