Dear Developmental Pediatrician,

I made the appointment for your office in late June. I have been gearing up for the two-and-a-half hour consultation since. In the past six weeks, I spent two hours filling out the almanac of information you wanted on my kid. I slaved over answers that made the slightest distinction (i.e. sometimes/often.) I attached our family picture to the front of the Encyclopedia Maggie. Finally, I lovingly tucked the whole kit-and-caboodle back into the manila envelope. And that was just the the paperwork.

I alerted the school the Maggie would be late today. Her father changed a scheduled call so that he could be present at the appointment. I woke early, showered, donned a dress and applied makeup. I looked palatable. So much so my daughter called me "pretty mama" and her father looked at me. Do you see where I'm going with this? The day in itself was becoming an event.

So, when I reached your office at 8:30 a.m. and was told that I had CANCELLED the appointment in a voice mail last Friday, I think I had a right to be livid. NO, I called and RECONFIRMED the appointment last Friday. I s..l..o..w..l..y enunciated the word CONFIRM into your answering machine (because no one EVER answers the phone) and told you "we will be there."

Which brings me to the problem. You should not make your clients call back and reconfirm what they already know. I made this appointment six weeks ago. This is not the same as me being drafted to Iraq; you might have to chase me down to fulfill that appointment. I made the first call. I want to come and see you. I've been waiting with expectation for this day. A call to remind someone they have an appointment is fantastic. By insisting your clients CALL BACK and reconfirm their appointment is RETARTED. Especially when live human ears do not answer the phone, and I'm trusting that the Voice Mail Gods deliver the goods.

We left your office, unseen. My daughter was delivered to school, and my husband and I tooled around Barnes and Noble for a bit. I wasn't about to waste these fresh pits scrubbing the kitchen. An hour later, the front office called and rescheduled us for next Tuesday. I told your scheduling woman NOT to call me to re-confirm. It's four days from now- short of being hit by a truck or losing my short-term memory, we will be there. "Sorry for the confusion this morning " she said. "We've had other people forget to call back and reconfirm, and we canceled them, too."

I had called. I had reconfirmed. I bit my tongue. It's not a tumor on the neck- that is a problem. It's just a inefficient system that could use some retooling. Would you like my help?

Sincerely,

me