I am not going to tell you how to find a doctor – But I am going to tell you what happened to us.
We had a wonderful helper to assist us to find accommodation and to find a doctor. We don’t know the Dutch language and did not know where the various doctors rooms were in relationship to where lived, and where we might live and so on. The role of the helper was to contact the doctor we chose from a list and to find out if they were willing to add to their patient list – 2 non Dutch speaking oldies.
And they were happy to take us on, they said. I then had to go to the doctors rooms and collect forms for us to fill in, return them and then arrange to meet with the doctor. Not for a consultation mind, but just to meet and shake hands and agree that we would have a professional relationship.
So off I went to the doctors rooms at the open time (no appointment required), to find 50 or more older people filling the entire space. I couldn’t even get in the door. No one asked me anything, or said a word to me.
The truth is they might have been speaking to me, but I stood there mute – what could I say? I had no idea what was going on, or if they were speaking to me as there was such a lot of talking.
I went out to the roadside, checked the signage – yes I was in the correct building. I waited a bit and then all of sudden the people all flowed towards an open door inside and the reception desk materialised. The blinds were down, the windows closed – no receptionist.
So I left planning to come back again at the open time (no appointment required), and I did do that – the place was empty. The reception desk was staffed and the blinds up, the window open. She was on the phone. I apologised that I could not speak Dutch – she said she could not speak English and she couldn’t understand what I wanted or help me. I am glad I wasn’t ill and in need of any kind of assistance – because I would have failed right there. I wouldn’t have got past the first hurdle – The Doctors Receptionist. No positive customer service concepts here.
I phoned my helper – and she spoke with the Receptionist and they agreed I could take the form, and that she, the Receptionist was far to busy to help me to fill in the form. I took it home and Best Beloved and I used the dictionary, applied some common sense and I returned with the form. A different Receptionist, and she spoke English. I asked her to please check the form to see if we had filled it in correctly. She did, and she said we had.
Whew
We made an appointment to meet the doctor.
Then the phone call came – the form was not filled out correctly. What!
We sorted that out and at the appointed time Best Beloved and I went to meet with the doctor.
He seemed nice enough, and he spoke excellent English, unlike his staff. We all shook hands and then I requested a prescription. What! (that’s what his body language said to me).
Still I got my prescription and he said one of the drugs I need is not available in the Netherlands – He would still include it and the chemist would provide a different drug. OK – different to New Zealand where the Doctor states the drug, not the chemist. We had to designate which chemist we would attend for our prescriptions and this was added to the computer system at the doctors. My prescription was emailed or faxed directly to the Chemist and I could collect it after 4pm on the following day.
The chemist surprisingly said you need a different prescription and it went back to the doctor who had to provide another prescription for the correct and available drug.
And so began our life and relationship (business partnership) with the Dutch Health system
Tags: Chemist, Doctor, Formality, Prescription
