The Annual Mammogram

Today I had to go to the breast center for my annual mammogram. Since I have been doing quite a bit of "mystery shopping" in the past few years, I always look at situations in a different light. I also have recently changed positions in the hospital I work at. My new job focuses more on patient satisfaction and it has changed my perspective on most events.

My appointment was for 9:30 AM. I arrived at 9:20 AM. I approached the receptionist and gave her my name. She found my paperwork and told me to have a seat. While I was waiting, I looked over the waiting room. It was spacious, attractive, and well maintained. There was an impressive wooden magazine rack, but there were no magazines. Magazines and pamphlets were scattered on the tables. Many brochures/event flyers were outdated.

Within 2 minutes, I was called into the registration office. The registrar confirmed my address, updated my contact information and took my co-payment. I then had to switch chairs for another registrar who made me sign a guarantee of payment. I wondered about the HIPPA regulations - two patients in the same room, confirming personal information. I also questioned (in my mind!) the necessity for 2 registrars, when one simply had you sign another form.

I returned to the waiting room. I watched women being called in by the technologists. These women addressed the patient as "Miss" or "Mrs." The receptionist called everyone by their first names. Neither receptionist was wearing an ID badge. All technologists and nurses were wearing badges.

The one receptionist's actions were not customer-oriented. She called one woman to the desk 3 times to give her additional forms to fill out. The woman was annoyed.

Within 3 minutes, I was called in to the imaging area. I was told to remove everything from the waist up and asked if I had any deodorant or perfume on. I thought about how tiny the changing room was and worried about how a disabled or large woman would manage in the confined spaces. I then went in to the mammography room. The technologist was pleasant, efficient and constantly asked how I was tolerating the compression. She never introduced herself. When we were done, I was told that I could change into my clothing and have a seat in the waiting room. This was a great improvement over previous years, when you had to wait in the changing room for the mammo to be read. Sitting in that closet-like setting, 2 minutes seems like 10 hours and you start to think horrible scenarios. There was no place to discard the used gown, so I left it on the bench.

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