My heart is racing as I dial and I hear the phone start ringing at
the other end. A machine picks up and I do exactly what the outgoing message
directs me to -- speaking slowly and clearly, I leave my name and phone number
twice-- trying to sound friendly but not too desperate for a return phone call.
The person that I am trying to woo with my friendly telephone manner? The
receptionist at my children’s pediatrician’s office.
I’m not sure why I find this blued-eyed woman with a blond perm so scary. What I do know is that I am so intimidated by her that when she called a couple of weeks ago to remind me about Ava’s next appointment- not only did I not have the courage to tell her that the time was not great for me, I didn’t even have the guts to tell her that Ava is not my daughter’s name (it is an A name though, so I figured that she was close enough)(besides, I do like the name Ava, so what’s the harm?)
For the first few weeks of my son’s life she didn’t seem to like me and that was not fun- particularly for a crazy person such as myself, who enjoys calling the pediatrician on a regular basis with random health concerns I have read about on the Internet. And then something happened. I said something and she laughed (bonus! I was actually trying to be funny- she wasn’t laughing at me this time) and I saw a glimmer of what could be. And since then she has been really nice to me- I’m not sure what I did right, but now I have so much more to lose. Now that I know what its like to be on her good side, I am terrified of going back.
Because of my newly acquired status (we’re not exactly besties, but I can say with confidence that she doesn’t loathe me) I will take ANY appointment she gives me and the one time I had double booked and had to reschedule I rehearsed what I was going to say with a friend (who shares the same doctor so that we could role play) before making the call. I also seriously contemplated rescheduling the other appointment -- with a specialist whom we’d been waiting to see for several months-- so that I could avoid calling to switch.
For the record, I am not simply motivated by a pathological need to be liked -- I know this because I am quite certain that my dentist’s receptionist hates me (I often switch appointments at the last minute) and really don’t care all that much. It’s the fact that the pediatrician’s receptionist has power. She can go ask the doctor a question on my behalf or make me schlep my sorry ass in to see her myself. She can call a prescription into the pharmacy, or not. She can make me feel like an idiot when I call to ask about green poo or tell me an anecdote about her niece’s similarly coloured bowel movement. She is the gateway to my children’s healthcare (and okay, maybe sometimes my self-esteem).
Though when I was there last week I realized that maybe I don’t have to try quite so hard. The woman in front of me spent almost ten minutes trying to set up an appointment for her son, yammering about why each suggested day and time didn’t work for her. And in that time the best thing ever happened - the receptionist looked up at me (while aforementioned annoying mom was looking at her Blackberry) and rolled her eyes. At me! I won’t say that it felt as good as the first time my kids smiled at me, but it was pretty close.
I’m not sure why I find this blued-eyed woman with a blond perm so scary. What I do know is that I am so intimidated by her that when she called a couple of weeks ago to remind me about Ava’s next appointment- not only did I not have the courage to tell her that the time was not great for me, I didn’t even have the guts to tell her that Ava is not my daughter’s name (it is an A name though, so I figured that she was close enough)(besides, I do like the name Ava, so what’s the harm?)
For the first few weeks of my son’s life she didn’t seem to like me and that was not fun- particularly for a crazy person such as myself, who enjoys calling the pediatrician on a regular basis with random health concerns I have read about on the Internet. And then something happened. I said something and she laughed (bonus! I was actually trying to be funny- she wasn’t laughing at me this time) and I saw a glimmer of what could be. And since then she has been really nice to me- I’m not sure what I did right, but now I have so much more to lose. Now that I know what its like to be on her good side, I am terrified of going back.
Because of my newly acquired status (we’re not exactly besties, but I can say with confidence that she doesn’t loathe me) I will take ANY appointment she gives me and the one time I had double booked and had to reschedule I rehearsed what I was going to say with a friend (who shares the same doctor so that we could role play) before making the call. I also seriously contemplated rescheduling the other appointment -- with a specialist whom we’d been waiting to see for several months-- so that I could avoid calling to switch.
For the record, I am not simply motivated by a pathological need to be liked -- I know this because I am quite certain that my dentist’s receptionist hates me (I often switch appointments at the last minute) and really don’t care all that much. It’s the fact that the pediatrician’s receptionist has power. She can go ask the doctor a question on my behalf or make me schlep my sorry ass in to see her myself. She can call a prescription into the pharmacy, or not. She can make me feel like an idiot when I call to ask about green poo or tell me an anecdote about her niece’s similarly coloured bowel movement. She is the gateway to my children’s healthcare (and okay, maybe sometimes my self-esteem).
Though when I was there last week I realized that maybe I don’t have to try quite so hard. The woman in front of me spent almost ten minutes trying to set up an appointment for her son, yammering about why each suggested day and time didn’t work for her. And in that time the best thing ever happened - the receptionist looked up at me (while aforementioned annoying mom was looking at her Blackberry) and rolled her eyes. At me! I won’t say that it felt as good as the first time my kids smiled at me, but it was pretty close.
