Telcos, banks and health insurers are among the many businesses I’d include in the bracket that fail to recognise more than 17 per cent of their customers are probably over 65.

Many will find their latest “apps” and upgrades difficult to navigate, especially when callers are subjected to conversing with an AI bot before being directed to some lady in a foreign call centre who has difficulty speaking or understanding English.

HAIR-PULLING

My latest head scratching, hair-pulling moment involved a pharmaceutical business which made me glad – all over again – that I walked away from that industry after completing a pharmacy apprenticeship out of secondary school.

I’m obviously not a fan of Big Pharma, vaccine mandates or vaccine injury indemnities as I have frequently stated.

But don’t get me wrong – there are obviously many very good pharmacists and perhaps my latest negative encounter was the result of some weird obscure government regulation.

But I doubt it, and staff at the emergency department of our local private hospital couldn’t fathom it either.

How so? Well, it started with pains in the belly which were worse than the pains in another part of the anatomy experienced from watching Federal Parliament’s Question Time.

The next day it was off to the hospital emergency department where I spent about four hours waiting on the result of a blood test and CT scan, which helped a busy and efficient doctor to diagnose an internal infection.

He gave me the choice of being admitted and having an antibiotic drip, or taking a course of antibiotics at home.

It took me about a nano second to reply, “home, thanks Doc!”

So, he printed out a list of foods to avoid (many of my favourites including anything spicy, with roughage or fried) and a fairly bland list of approvals. I’m okay with that.

He also gave me two prescriptions for an antibiotic with the instruction, “take two a day for five days from the first script and if your condition hasn’t improved, get the second script filled and take them for another five days. If you’re still no better, come back…”.

All good. The next morning my doting wife who is recovering from cataract surgery took my prescription to a local major pharmacy chain during a rain deluge and returned home wet and with a soaked package containing one dry box of antibiotic tablets.

“Where is the other prescription,” I asked. (The two scripts had been joined together).

“I don’t know, that’s all they gave me.”

So I phoned the pharmacy and spoke to a young woman who initially told me the woman who had dispensed was on a break but there was no other prescription.

INSISTED

I insisted there was and repeated the doctor’s instructions. So she put me on hold for about 10 minutes before coming back.

“Yes, there is a second prescription but if you want that dispensed it will cost $20, not the $7.70 concessional fee you paid for the first one.”

“Well, can I come and pick up the script and I’ll decide if I need to get it filled.”

“No, you will still have to pay $20.”

“Even without the extra tablets?”

“Yes!”

“Well, that sounds very strange.” (I could have said a lot more, but I bit my tongue).

“Well, that’s just the way it is”. (Implied – it’s your problem, not mine). Bye.

After sitting and stewing and recounting the conversation to my wife, I decided to phone the hospital and tell them what had just happened.

The senior nurse in the emergency department probably had a lot more pressing problems to deal with but she listened to my story and agreed it did indeed sound very strange.

“It’s your script. I’ll phone them and check it out.”

Ten minutes later she called me back.

“They gave me the same story. I just don’t understand it”.

“Well if you can’t, how the hell could I?”

We both laughed before she said, “Look I’ll get a doctor to write you another script and leave it with admin”.

So today, in some less pain and no rain, I ventured back to the emergency department where I expected I would have to do some explaining to the staff on duty.

But as soon as I walked up to the glass window with a narrow slot and told the woman on duty my name, she smiled and said “This is for you”.

An envelope with my new script inside.

I asked if she was the lady I had spoken to the previous day.

“No, but I heard the conversation … it’s unbelievable!”

Another woman sitting at a desk beside her was smiling and nodding in agreement.

I thanked them both. One small win, and I’ll take it!

But then back home I received another text telling me to make a booking with my GP for an annual prostate antigen (PSA) test which caused some angst and a verbal arm wrestle with a pathology lab technician this time last year.

MESSING

The rules had just been changed and I wrote about it in an article titled “Medibank Messing with Movember”.

This was part of our exchange: “The Medicare rules have changed from November 1, and you might now have to pay for your blood test, which was previously free …”.

The government claims it’s reducing the cost of medical care but in the past few weeks I’ve had to consult an eye surgeon, a cardiologist and a skin specialist which has cost me an arm and a leg and now I might be charged for a blood test!

The technician gave me skeptical look, noting that no limbs are missing as she replies, “Yes, it’s complicated … read the paper and fill in the questions.”