Letters to the Editor

A chronic case of when cash is king

  • Poor service at doctor’s office

Dear Sir,

Bermuda is truly becoming, in the words of a famous former premier, “Bermuda Inc”.

I am a patient of a well-known medical establishment and I shall call my doctor “Dr Feelgood” and myself “Chronic Patient”. This is simply to protect the guilty at this time.

I have been a patient of this establishment for more than 25 years and, as such, I have been MRIed, EEGed, X-rayed, and CATed to death. I estimate that I have added to the bottom line of this establishment a sum totalling not less than $100,000.

I have high blood pressure. A few days ago, I needed to have a refill of my tablets and visited the pharmacy to do so. Unfortunately, the pharmacist informed me that my prescription had expired. I therefore called in to Dr Feelgood’s office as I had done before and requested that they fax or call the pharmacy. This is a synopsis of what happened:

Receptionist: “Dr Feelgood’s office, how may I help you?”

Chronic Patient: “Hello, my name is Chronic Patient and I need you to call in a new prescription.”

Receptionist: “You will have to come in and pay us $10 first.”

Chronic Patient: “I am indisposed at the moment. Could you go ahead and I will come in as soon as I have completed a small chore?” (I had to return to a voluntary job where I was assisting.)

Receptionist: “Sorry, we have a policy.”

Chronic Patient: “May I speak to a supervisor?”

(Eight minutes later)

Supervisor: “Hello, how can I help?”

I explained the situation to her and she solved the problem for me immediately. She was ever so pleasant as she demanded my credit card number.

I gave her my credit card number and, once again, God was in his kingdom and all was right with the world. Money is truly king.

As I hung up the phone and mulled over what had occurred, I wondered what might have happened were I incapacitated or did not have a credit card. What of those persons who are in dire financial straits? Money is truly king.

As I pondered what I had just experienced, I heard the voice of my former secretary whispering in my ear: “Mr Chronic Patient, why worry when you can pray.”

And so, you sick and shut-ins, let us all pray.