Veterinary Clients Behaving Badly – Toward Other Clients
Buckle up, kids. I’m ranting today, and it’s a curse-soaked doozy.
Dear Rudest @#$@# Veterinary Client on the Planet:
I should have known when Lilly growled at you — twice — that something was afoot. Instead, I owned it and assumed Lilly’s veterinary-hospital-waiting-room worries were to blame. So, I said TWICE to our neuro team member (loud enough for you to hear), “She is afraid.”
All of us ignored you and tried to continue our conversation about Lilly who nearly died 10 days ago. To be honest, the treatment news I had just received was freaking me out … so when you allowed your dog to stare at Lilly, my protective instincts took over, and I stood to place myself between Lilly and you and your dog. It’s a reflex honed over 8 years with a truly, clinically, lifelong fearful dog.
When her brain flipped out, we had to nix Lilly’s anxiety meds cold turkey. There are times, now, when the world seems stark and threatening to her. I do my best to protect her in public. She clearly saw you as a threat — before I did.
I try not to be obnoxious about it, but that physical gesture of placing myself as a barrier between Lilly and anything or anyone that scares her so much is the best way I know to say, “Back off!” without having to say a word.
Imagine, then, my utter dismay and fury when you butted into my conversation with my dog’s healthcare provider to say that you had been waiting, that your dog required treatment in a certain time frame, that the window was closing on that timeline … oh, yes, and you had be waiting.
Your interruption upset me so much. I did NOT get to ask some critical questions about my dog’s health status and possible treatment options. I did NOT get to take full advantage of what little face-to-face time I get with the neuro team … after my own more-than-2-hour wait.
I was so upset, in fact, that I loaded Lilly in the car and drove a block before realizing that I forgotten to pay. So, I circled back, parked, and went back in … in tears.
Let me tell you something. I’d call you Princess, but you’re too old for the word and certainly old enough to know better.
Maybe referring to you as a rude @#$@# wench is most accurate.
I’ve spent more than my share of time in a specialty / ER / ICU veterinary waiting room. I’ve seen people under terrible life / death duress reveal perhaps not their best selves. I’ve seen people be horrible to their spouses. I’ve seen people be terrible to the veterinary staff. But, never in all the years I’ve lived with dogs — more than 24 years now — have I EVER seen someone be RUDE to another veterinary client.
Never.
Even when I see people behave badly, I give them the benefit of the doubt. I feel a sense of grace and sympathy for their troubles, but instead of your worst self, I believe you revealed your true self.
Why?
Because, frankly, lady, EVERYONE knew you were there waiting as you paraded yourself and your dogs back and forth, back and forth, inside and out, inside and out, in the lobby. EVERYONE saw you pitch a tremendous fit with the staff at the desk over glitch in your invoice. EVERYONE saw how they “handled” your outburst — as if it wasn’t the first time.
Here are a few tips.
- Everyone in that lobby is waiting. I, in fact, had been there at least an HOUR longer than you waiting on the same people to see my dog.
- Everyone in that lobby is spending ungodly sums of money, including those who really cannot afford it.
- Everyone in that lobby is terrified about their pet’s health and survival.
- Each of those pets is just as important as yours.
- Everyone wishes things went faster and easier.
But, you know what?
We wait, patiently and quietly as possible. We might inquire at the front desk after a lengthy delay, but we would NEVER intrude on someone else’s veterinary consult diagnosis or treatment conversation in the lobby or anywhere. NEVER.
You @#$@#, self-absorbed, narcissistic @#$@#$. I know you don’t care, but I’ve got to say it … you are NOT the center of the universe.
I’m happy to say that, despite my own worries and rampant sleep deprivation from round-the-clock care of my dog, what little grace and calm I could muster prevented me from speaking one cross word to you. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at you. I was that angry.
Should our paths cross again, should you deign to scare my dog, should you once again interrupt my time with Lilly’s healthcare team … I make no promises that my best self won’t go absent.
Sincerely,
Your fellow veterinary client
***
As an aside, I’ll share that when I returned to pay and explained why I’d forgotten, one of the receptionists told me that she’d seen the whole thing, that she’d sent another technician out to get the woman’s dog for treatment in hopes of salvaging my time with the neuro staff, and that she thought I had every right to be furious / upset.
I, myself, had a little boo-hoo at the front desk out of sheer exhaustion and frustration … and in gratitude for the sympathy and support.
***
Have you ever faced a situation like this? How would you / did you handle it?