So something new happened today. This was the first day since leaving the hospital that I became legitimately frustrated and wanted to yell at someone. Let me explain (no, will take too long, let me sum up).
As I mentioned a few posts ago, the recent delivery of baby formula was of a different brand than that with which I was sent home from the hospital. I had noticed that the new type was designed for patients with hyperglycemia and that it contained fewer calories per can than my original sustenance. With that in mind, I had rinsed and saved one of each can in anticipation of taking them to the clinic tomorrow when I go for my first follow-up appointment; that way I could get the opinion of someone with the knowledge to validate or invalidate my suspicions.
Well, today one of the nutritionists from Vanderbilt called. I explained the discrepancy to her. When explaining the situation, we noticed that the invoice that came with the shipment listed the original brand of formula that I had been taking; even the outer packing boxes were mismatched from the cases of formula that they contained. Armed with this information, the nutritionist said that she would call the distributor to address the problem.
About an hour later I received another call. Issue number one – and if there are businesspersons reading this, please take note – was that the caller ID was listed as “unavailable.” If you are a business that in any way seeks to maintain credibility, publish your phone number. Do not block it. Period. Blocking a phone number is a deceptive practice of loan sharks and bill collectors. However, given the current situation and that I was expecting a call, I chose to answer. It was indeed the distributor calling. After explaining the situation in the most clear manner possible, and after answering a wide range of questions regarding type and quantity of product received, the representative asked, “You didn’t open any of these cases, did you?” Well, of course I did. It’s what I was sent. Four days ago. I’ve already lost over twenty pounds; should I be shooting for thirty? I explained that I had opened one of the cases so that I had something to eat. I was informed in no uncertain terms that it was my mistake for opening that case, that I was liable for the product consumed, and that it could not be replaced. Needless to say, if there were a function of cellular telephony that allowed one to physically manipulate the person on the other end of the line, I would not be the only one missing teeth. Rather than ask if the representative would prefer that I starve, and realizing that – unintelligible as I may be to the untrained ear at the moment – said representative definitely would have understood the words that were about to come out of my mouth, I chose discretion. I passed the phone to my better half and began pacing the living room while whacking at things with my cane.
All things considered, it all worked out. The company is overnighting replacement formula – the correct kind – so that I will be receiving sufficient nourishment, and someone will be along in a day or two to collect the eight unopened cases of dreck that I was sent. I suppose my major issue was one of the tone of the corporate representative; rather than accepting, on behalf of the company, some modicum of responsibility for screwing up and sending the wrong food, the rep chastised me for opening one case and consuming part of it. Yeah, ok. That sounds about right. I know that this is problematic and difficult for everyone involved because there are so many parties at the table – me and my family, the hospital and its staff, the distributor, the home health care group, and – last but definitely not least – the insurance company. So there’s lots of grief to go around, and it often seems that the interests of these groups border upon mutual exclusivity.
So that’s my “angry” story for the day. It blew over fairly quickly, I suppose; but there was just something about that one moment that got my hackles up.
In other, unrelated news, it was an ordinary day. There was some laundry, some dishes, some chauffeuring of The Princess (who had an orthodontist appointment today), and I cooked dinner for the first time since coming home. The Boy commented that he found that to be cruel, but I actually enjoyed it. I enjoy cooking, first of all, and it did me some good to help provide for others in a demonstrable way this evening.
So, how was your day? I hope all is well with you. As always, I’ll keep you posted in the event something interesting happens.
Take care of each other.
