Let me start by saying that Dave’s neurologist and staff in Illinois were amazing. They went above and beyond. They led us down the path of surgery. They are the reason Dave’s seizures are now controlled by medication. They helped us out when we couldn’t afford medications or expensive procedures. They cared about their patients. We miss them.
Because of them, Dave no longer requires much care. He just needs an annual refill on the prescriptions he has been taking since he was a young boy. That’s it. So, last year when it came time to fill that yearly requirement- we had to find a new neurologist in Michigan. Easy enough….we just needed someone who could write a prescription.
What we found was a disappointment.
We called to set up an appointment and explained that he would need a refill in about a month. They could not fit us in for two months, and suggested we go to a local clinic to get the prescription filled. That cost $180. Then they called and told us they needed to push it back two more months. We explained our issue with the refills- but were told since he was a new patient there was nothing they could do. We went back to the clinic and spent another $180.
On the day of our first appointment they took his blood pressure, weighed him, and wrote a new prescription. We asked to pay in full, and the cost was a little over $160. Fine. Six months later we received a note in the mail saying that their computer system was new at the time and they had made a mistake. We actually owed an additional $180 for being a new patient. Seriously?
It’s been over a year, and we finally made our return visit this morning. It was the first appointment of the day, and we arrived as soon as the office opened. They took Dave back immediately, and I remained outside in the waiting area with Teghan.
Teghan was not pleased with the wait. She screamed when I wouldn’t let her open doors we weren’t allowed to open. She threw all the magazines on the floor. She attempted to pull the pictures off the wall. But mostly she stretched out on the waiting room couch and sobbed.
At one point she seemed content to play with my phone. Then she threw my phone. Now, Teghan has thrown that phone a million times, and I have an excellent case. For two and a half years it has kept it safe. But today, the screen shattered.
By then an hour and fifteen minutes had passed. I had to get to work. Dave texted me from the back, and through the cracks on my screen I could make out the words, “I am still waiting for the doctor to get here.”
We left without seeing the doctor. When Dave came out he found both Teghan and me in tears.
The good news is that we saved $160. The bad news is that I spent a little over $100 repairing my phone’s screen today.
We are currently searching for a new neurologist.