Sometimes it seems I spend half my life waiting…….. waiting for the repair man who never comes at the time promised. Definitely before ten ma’am was the time given, so I get up earlier than usual to make sure the dogs are walked and I am back well before nine am.

At 11.30 I get a call from the repair man – he is running a bit late and will be there before 1.00pm. Maybe I will cut it too fine if I go for groceries so I wait, put some laundry on, and make some cookies. 2.15 I call his depot, he got held up but will definitely be there shortly after three.

3.45, he arrives, no apology, opens the dishwasher, tells me I need a new lower arm and leaves with promises to be back on Friday, definitely between ten and 11.00am. Friday sees me out with the dogs and home before 9.00, I find note on door, “sorry I missed you, call this number to reschedule. Bravely, I try not to cry.

Trying to not show my hostility to the girl on the telephone, I tell her my tale of woe, many apologies and what is a good time for him to call back. I tell her I will be in for the rest of the day, OH, she says, he is too busy to come today, you already missed your appointment. Then she tells me next day for Oliver calls is Wednesday, but he has many appointments and may not make it to my home. Between gritted teeth, I explain that I was here at the time quoted but he had been and gone, I have stinky water in the dishwasher and it is getting stinkier every day. She obviously hears my voice quavering and promises me that he will definitely try to squeeze me in on Wednesday.

Doctors office, 10,45 for 11.am appointment, I get chatting to a couple of other patients and find out that their appointments were before mine and the doctor is running late. By 11.15 nobody has gone in yet and more people are waiting. Am I the only one wandering what is happening? Apparently I am as nobody else seems to be worrying about it. I ask at the desk. He has been held up at the hospital and the receptionist has no idea when he will be in but he will be closing the office at 1.00 for lunch, would I like to reschedule, but not today as his afternoon is full.

If she knew the situation why had she not announced that some of the patients would not be seen today and to reschedule? Why just leave everyone sitting in ignorance?

Doctors office 2.13 for 2.15 appointment, a phone call as I was leaving the house made me get there on the last minute. The receptionist tells me in a very huffy voice that I need to arrive fifteen minutes early so the doctor is not kept waiting.

Is there not something wrong with the system that treats the customer (or patient) as a second class citizen? I can’t be the only one who feels miffed at being taken for granted. My time is also valuable and it is every bit as important that I be treated in a respectful way.

When we first moved to Oliver in 1990, we both signed on with a particular dentist. Dave and I have always been on a six month schedule so made our appointments regularly. I was not too impressed with his chair-side manner and I commented to Dave that he had the personality of a dead fish, but he was a good dentist so I put feelings aside.

At the time we owned the Bel Air motel so appointments could be made virtually any time as we did not have a particular time schedule. The receptionist was aware of this and, quite often, would call up and ask if we could come early as there had been a cancellation. However, after a couple of years, she called one morning to move my appointment forward an hour, this time it was not convenient as I had another appointment, in Penticton, at a certain time. The receptionist said OK and left my time as it was.

Arriving several minutes early I took a seat and waited. After about a half hour, I asked her if he would be long and was told just a few minutes. Another half hour went by and it was now too late for me to have my appointment and also get to Penticton on time. I told the receptionist that I would have to leave and she was really angry. She told me that I would have to pay if I cancelled. I reminded her, in no uncertain terms that I had been there at the correct time but she had rescheduled someone else in my spot.

I stalked into the back rooms and found the dentist with his hands in someone’s mouth. He stood there dumfounded as I told him that my time was just as valuable as his but his receptionist had messed me around just one time too often, that I thought he was a good dentist but he needed a new receptionist. I then stalked off, giving the astonished girl at the desk another blast, about not sending a bill, on the way out. When I calmed down I was very pleased with myself. I had not been rude but I had made sure the dentist knew why I was quitting his business.

Probably everyone in the waiting room, and the patient in the chair, thought I was a raving lunatic but I felt it had to be said. Too often the receptionist runs the office with an iron hand and the professional behind the door has no idea of the discontent she is building in clients.

I do not always feel proud of my tirades. When we owned the motel and campground we often had to deal with noisy tenants, particularly people in tents who forget that canvas is not soundproof. Dave always made me deal with difficult clients so, one night, after several times of asking a large group of campers to tone it down, I went on the warpath. We had been in bed for a while and the noise level was, once again, getting really loud. Putting on my robe and slippers I went out and stormed across the car park like one of the early Romans leading a charge. Arriving at the group of noisy campers I announced that they were disturbing all the other campers and, if I had to come out again, they would have to all pack up and leave.

Spinning round on my heel, I prepared to head back to the house, however this was the time when the elastic in my worn out underwear decided that it could no longer defy gravity and down came my drawers. I managed to catch them between my knees and do a very fast shuffle back home. It was a very dark night and whether they saw the descending garment swinging below my knee length nightie and robe, I don’t know. However, if they did they had the good grace, or the fear of eviction, not to laugh.

How are the mighty fallen!!!