An Orthodontic Alignment
Sun 17 Jan 2010 10:48:43 | 5 comments
I couldn’t see her behind the high receptionist’s counter, but I knew she was there—staring at her all-knowing computer screen and blurting out her familiar pat answers to callers: “The only available time…” “Let me have you speak to….”
After 18 months of orthodontic treatments for my 16-year-old daughter, this woman behind the desk still didn’t know my name. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t remember me.
It all started so well. The kind, experienced orthodontist assured us that the “minor adjustments” in my daughter’s bite would take a mere 12 to 14 months. His bookkeeper went over the easy payment plan: monthly installments, and, when the braces came off, a “final payment” for her retainer that would be waived if we recommended any new patients during the course of treatment.
Sold. The braces went on, and my daughter’s countdown began. She didn’t like the metal-mouth look, but was sure it would be worth it.
But here we were, almost two years later. Payment plan long completed, braces still on and, it seemed, no one besides my daughter was in a hurry to get them off. What they were in a hurry for was that final payment — for the retainer she didn’t have. And it was the receptionist’s duty to inform me about it every time we walked in the door.
At first, I tried to be cooperative. Rather than point out the obvious —that they were asking me to pay for a retainer that we didn’t have yet — I asked them if I could wait until the New Year when my flex account would have the funds available. But the New Year came and went, and the familiar, “See you in six weeks” never included, “She’ll be getting them off…” But each visit did include the familiar, “Are you ready to make your final payment?”
As I became increasingly impatient, I got a bit bolder. I started by speaking directly with the orthodontist.
“What is taking so long?” He wasn’t quite sure. But he showed me this tooth and that tooth, and explained the alignment process. He spent an unprecedented 15 minutes working on my daughter’s mouth that day.
But when we walked out ofthe office , there still was no predicted end. We were “waiting for everything to align.” And coming back in six weeks. And I was determined, more than ever, not to pay for that retainer until it was in her mouth.
In any other sector of business, this would be a given. When you pay for something, you expect to receive the product or service. I had paid for all the treatments, as agreed. They had let the treatment drag on. How could they ask me to pay for the retainer before she had it? It was a mere $150, but I decided I was going to prove a point.
And so there inevitably came the day when I walked in, just waiting to hear the voice from behind the counter. I don’t know what got into me this time — maybe the way she cracked her gum while she was talking. But something had aligned, and it wasn’t my daughter’s teeth.
“Ms. Bandy, may I speak with you, please?” she asked.
I was all out of nice. My usual timidity vanished, and when she requested the final payment, I didn’t hold back:
“How can you ask for a final payment when they aren’t finished?”
“Would you pay for something you hadn’t received?”
“Was it my fault the treatment has taken six months longer than the expert thought it would?”
“No, I did not want to step back into the bookkeeper’s office.”
“No, I didn’t anticipate recommending a new patient in order to qualify for the free retainer. I couldn’t in good conscience refer anyone to this practice.”
“And, do not ask again until she has her retainer.”
I sat down and looked around for my daughter, who I finally spotted, slouched in a chair in the far corner, iPod ear buds fully engaged and fashion magazine concealing her identity. I also noticed the room was very, very quiet.
For a minute, I was a little embarrassed. But then I thought about why we feel pressured to accept unfair medical billing policies. We don’t pre-pay contractors in our home. At restaurants, the waiter presents the bill after the food is consumed. But something about the power someone else has to make us feel or look better gives us a sense of obligation to accept his or herpolicies. It certainly doesn’t align with my sense of good business.
We made the six-week follow up appointment, and as we walked out, my daughter mumbled, “Wow, Mom.” And then, a little too optimistically, “I think my teeth are finally starting to align.”
© ShareWiK Media Group, LLC 2009
After 18 months of orthodontic treatments for my 16-year-old daughter, this woman behind the desk still didn’t know my name. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t remember me.
It all started so well. The kind, experienced orthodontist assured us that the “minor adjustments” in my daughter’s bite would take a mere 12 to 14 months. His bookkeeper went over the easy payment plan: monthly installments, and, when the braces came off, a “final payment” for her retainer that would be waived if we recommended any new patients during the course of treatment.
Sold. The braces went on, and my daughter’s countdown began. She didn’t like the metal-mouth look, but was sure it would be worth it.
But here we were, almost two years later. Payment plan long completed, braces still on and, it seemed, no one besides my daughter was in a hurry to get them off. What they were in a hurry for was that final payment — for the retainer she didn’t have. And it was the receptionist’s duty to inform me about it every time we walked in the door.
At first, I tried to be cooperative. Rather than point out the obvious —that they were asking me to pay for a retainer that we didn’t have yet — I asked them if I could wait until the New Year when my flex account would have the funds available. But the New Year came and went, and the familiar, “See you in six weeks” never included, “She’ll be getting them off…” But each visit did include the familiar, “Are you ready to make your final payment?”
As I became increasingly impatient, I got a bit bolder. I started by speaking directly with the orthodontist.
“What is taking so long?” He wasn’t quite sure. But he showed me this tooth and that tooth, and explained the alignment process. He spent an unprecedented 15 minutes working on my daughter’s mouth that day.
But when we walked out of
In any other sector of business, this would be a given. When you pay for something, you expect to receive the product or service. I had paid for all the treatments, as agreed. They had let the treatment drag on. How could they ask me to pay for the retainer before she had it? It was a mere $150, but I decided I was going to prove a point.
And so there inevitably came the day when I walked in, just waiting to hear the voice from behind the counter. I don’t know what got into me this time — maybe the way she cracked her gum while she was talking. But something had aligned, and it wasn’t my daughter’s teeth.
“Ms. Bandy, may I speak with you, please?” she asked.
I was all out of nice. My usual timidity vanished, and when she requested the final payment, I didn’t hold back:
“How can you ask for a final payment when they aren’t finished?”
“Would you pay for something you hadn’t received?”
“Was it my fault the treatment has taken six months longer than the expert thought it would?”
“No, I did not want to step back into the bookkeeper’s office.”
“No, I didn’t anticipate recommending a new patient in order to qualify for the free retainer. I couldn’t in good conscience refer anyone to this practice.”
“And, do not ask again until she has her retainer.”
I sat down and looked around for my daughter, who I finally spotted, slouched in a chair in the far corner, iPod ear buds fully engaged and fashion magazine concealing her identity. I also noticed the room was very, very quiet.
For a minute, I was a little embarrassed. But then I thought about why we feel pressured to accept unfair medical billing policies. We don’t pre-pay contractors in our home. At restaurants, the waiter presents the bill after the food is consumed. But something about the power someone else has to make us feel or look better gives us a sense of obligation to accept his or herpolicies. It certainly doesn’t align with my sense of good business.
We made the six-week follow up appointment, and as we walked out, my daughter mumbled, “Wow, Mom.” And then, a little too optimistically, “I think my teeth are finally starting to align.”
Humor writer, Hallie Bandy, is the mother
of four children
and lives on a farmette in rural Kentucky--both of which provide more
than
enough fodder for her writing. She is a regular ShareWIK.com columnist.
© ShareWiK Media Group, LLC 2009
©2011 ShareWIK Media Group, LLC. All rights reserved. ShareWIK does not provide medical advice, diagnosis or
treatment. For more information, please read our Additional Information, Terms
of Use and Privacy
Policy.
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