For English, Press 1

Lately I have spent an inordinate amount of time in hell – of the automated phone system variety. It started several weeks ago when my Comcast internet service “went down,” as they say, causing me to make repeated calls to an 800 number, all of which resulted in a recorded message stating that Comcast was experiencing “issues” (I kid you not) and suggesting that I would get quicker results by using my internet!

I will skip over the fact that we then had to wait an entire week for a technician to come out, and move on to the other opportunities I had to experience the full array and variety of automated phone systems. Among those I sampled were:

Medicare – trying to sign up for Part B.
Church Pension Fund – trying to get Medicare Supplemental Insurance.
V.A. – to say that $7,711 was probably not the correct amount for Kevin’s May visit.
McClatchy Company – to ask why they notified me that a bank we don’t use will no longer accept direct deposit of a payment we don’t get.

Other technological challenges came when the necessary forms from Church Pension Fund failed to arrive via either FAX or the internet (when it was fixed) and not being able to open the attachments from the Herald for Kevin’s health insurance.

I am not alone in these challenges, I know. Every one faces them. What I am thinking about is my own response to them.

My first reaction is, of course, annoyance. That something isn’t working right and that I have to deal with it.

My second is frustration. That the system doesn’t make much sense to me and that I can’t just get a person to talk to.

My third is the one that I wonder about. Someplace there is a little voice that says (not literally), “You’ll never be able to fix this.” I’m embarrassed to admit it, but it’s true.

I think that is the voice of a very little child, who really can’t take care of very much, not my grown-up 65 year-old voice. But why do I hear it, and what can I do differently? Well, experience tells me I can handle things – many things, complicated and difficult things. Maybe I can piggyback on that, and make a plan for the next time.

I’ll say to myself:
1. I really hate dealing with this kind of detail and I resent that I have to do it.
2. But these kinds of things occur in everybody’s life and need to be dealt with.
3. I have done this successfully in the past, and I will now calmly do what needs to be done.

As I re-read the above, the rebellious part of me objects, but the mature part says, “Yes, that’s what grown-ups do.” I guess anyone who wants to be Cruisin’ at 65 ought to just cruise on through and be grown up.