Okay, that's not true. He's a nurse practitioner, not a doctor.
Friday around 2:45, I got an email from the clinic. Of course it doesn't say what the message is. I have to log into YourChart to find out.
This is not convenient for me! Whatever happened to the days of actual people calling to give you information? Oh, wait. That's when doctors nurse practitioners were in the business of actually helping people, not doing well-care drive-thru visits to extract maximum money from insurance and Medicare.
Don't get me wrong. I really like my NP. He's a good guy. It's just the "standard of care" that the clinic and major hospital system requires the providers to conform to. Even Farmer H complained just last week about how his own NP doesn't seem to try and figure out any of his ailments these days, but quickly says he will need to see a specialist, and they will schedule an appointment for him.
Anyhoo... 2:45 is my bed time. The time I actually lie down on Farmer H's new $200 mattress to catch a 20- or 40-minute nap before showering and heading to town. I was curious about this email from my clinic. So I tried to access it on my phone. Not an easy feat without my bifocals.
I took the link, and signed into YourChart. But I have the privacy set so that I have to enter a six-digit code to get into my account. The six-digit code is emailed separately. No problem at all when I'm on HIPPIE. But impossible on my phone.
The screen says DO NOT LEAVE THIS SCREEN where I need to type in the six-digit code. No matter how I try, every time I open up the email again to get the just-sent code, my phone won't let me back to that screen where I need to enter it.
Well. You know what happened. I had to get out of bed, fighting that $200 mattress to release my rumpus that it insists on sucking into the center of the bed. And hike all the way to the kitchen to log in with HIPPIE. Only to discover that my NP is moving to a new building! All the doctors are. The ones who used to be on the three floors above the hospital.
I have no idea where this new building is. Farmer H might know, since he frequents Bill-Paying Town more than I. I guess we'll find out the next time I have an appointment. I don't know when that will be.
The major thing wrong with me being that I am a technology simpleton.
2 comments:
I worry that I'm a technology simpleton too, but I seem to manage. And I keep my phone and laptop on the same table so I can interact with both when necessary. It's a shame all the doctors are moving. I'm VERY glad we don't have drive-thru checkups. Here the only drive throughs are liquor stores and MacDonald's. Maybe KFC too.
I don't carry HIPPIE to the bedroom when I take my nap before town.
I was being facetious about the "drive-thru" checkups. I don't think anyone around here does that, although during the VIRUS debacle, Farmer H's nurses gave him his weekly shot-in-the-butt out in the parking lot!
I meant that they schedule an appointment a couple months in advance, make you wait about a half hour, then call you in for weighing, a quick listen to heart and lungs, a peek in the ears, and send you on your way. Just about 5 minutes of actual time in a room with the doctor or nurse practitioner. Like an assembly line. Not really addressing any issues unless you insist on interrupting their routine. Don't even call to discuss blood test results. Tell you to check YourChart to see them.
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