Complaint-worthy? I Dunno...

THIS IS THE TIME OF YEAR that I like to delete old files from computer. And just like clearing old paperwork from a filing cabinet, sometimes it takes longer to go through the stuff you're going to keep that the junk you'll toss.

One of the documents I came across was a letter to a physician of a nearby clinic. It was in the folder labelled COMPLAINT LETTERS, a folder causing surefire boomerang karma: send out a nasty letter and it'll snap back to bite you.

As I read through the letter, I began to wonder if letter had the right tone (not too harsh, not too whiny), or if I was justified in complaining, or if it simply no longer mattered. After all, I was no longer a patient of the doctor I had written to. In fact, as it had turned out, I wasn't his patient to begin with.

I dunno, maybe I was angrier with being pushed out when the clinic added more doctors and edged out one of the practices founding physicians, who was, as I learned then, my doctor of record.

It was odd after all this wasn't even my regular doctor's office, but when my main physician told me that she wasn't on board with allergy injections because she "didn't believe" they worked (oh, you can bet I told my allergist this at my next visit; he suggested she "read the literature," an insult I gleefully passed along to her while pretending not to understand what the message meant), I started going to a small clinic close to my home where a Registered Nurse would give my injections every three weeks. One shot in each arm.

When the nurse left to work elsewhere, the least busy/first available doctor stepped-in squeezing allergy injection patients between regular appointments.

For a short time, everything was running tickety-boo. Then Mercury either went into retrograde, or Murphy's Law enthusiasts pushed some bad karma my way, or whatever. My sweet deal ended.

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If you're not familiar with immunotherapy, serum comprised of allergens is given to a patient in increasing dosages to ensure no reaction until the patient reaches a maintenance dose (whatever maximum the allergist has prescribed), then in the maximum dose with a set frequency. Each year, when new serum extracts are dispensed, the patient starts at the lowest amount, working up to the maximum. For patients on maintenance dosages, this means extra, weekly trips to the doctor's office.

That's where I was when things fell apart. I was on a new batch of serum, 2/5 of the way to maintenance. The physician was in a hurry. He dropped one of the vials and it smashed to bits when it the concrete floor.

So, there I was, without that week's injection, but not yet fully up to regular amount, my allergies kicking in.

I'd have to order new serum, but that'd be a 4-6 week wait for the lab to create new serum. Then I'd have to start at the minimum dose again (my allergies flaring wildly in the meantime.) I was irritated, for sure, but what happened next took me by surprise and stunned me into complicity.

The doctor asked me, well, not so much as asked me as I felt he directed me to put the re-order claim through my extended health care provider.

Because, as he tersely explained, his insurance rates "would go up."

A year later I was getting my allergy shorts at my regular doctor's office. I often thought of dropping off an invoice for the amount I had to pay for the extra allergy serum because I'd exceeded my annual maximum amount. I wanted to send him a bill, but I didn't. I hadn't said anything at the time because I knew that it would be the end of getting injections at the clinic close to my home.

I gave in so that I wouldn't be inconvenienced.

Re-reading the complaint letter, which I wrote when I was ousted from the clinic, I wondered if the letter was worth the effort it took to draft (with its detailed timelines and strong vocabulary.) I wondered if this incident was even complaint-worthy.

While, I believe his actions were ethically wrong, he could as easily deny any suggestion of impropriety and maybe that's what stopped me from sending the letter, or lodging a formal complaint. I could have and should have refused at the time he strongly suggested I pay for the replacement serum.

I should have told him that it was his responsibility, that I didn't drop the vial, that I didn't break the vial, that I was the one who was physically and financially inconvenienced.

Still, I couldn't delete the letter. I may send it one day.