Poor relationships with robots: Navigating automated appointment notification processes

The SMS appointment reminder from my GP clinic is smooth sailing –

**just an instruction to turn up at [this time] on [this day] to see [this doctor]. Reply yes/no. Ring/click on this link if you want to reschedule.**

Although the technology falters at times, there’s nothing complicated about it and comfortingly the process has rarely changed. Important points, for someone with PTSD.

In contrast, over the years the hospital has worked through multiple variants of their automated appointment notification process (a different one every few months, as though it is a mutating robotic virus). There was:

the reminder SMS three business days prior to the appointment I didn’t know I had
the SMS on a Friday notifying of an appointment the following Tuesday, with a contact phone number for further information (which reached an answering machine promising a return call within one business day)(the day before the appointment)
the phone call asking me if I wanted the appointment, followed 10 minutes later by an SMS instructing me to reply to confirm the appointment, followed one week later by a letter telling me to phone the hospital to confirm the appointment
the confirmation SMS six weeks before an appointment which I’d never confirmed
the email complete with telehealth link, followed weeks later by a reminder SMS containing a link to the hospital website (a link which I assumed, erroneously, superseded the previous link)
and, the time that I, misreading the SMS, accidently replied with a ‘Y’ instead of ‘yes’, rapidly followed by a ‘yes’ (in an attempt to undo my mistake), which confused the hospital’s automated system, forcing a staff member to manually override their robot to ‘rescue’ my appointment.

My PTSD means that I don’t like surprises, so the ever-changing processes are stressful, often requiring way too much time, effort and angst to navigate.

However, the hospital’s latest appointment process has outdone itself in complexity, frustration, confusion and anxiety.

First, I receive an unexpected SMS from the hospital offering me an appointment with an unspecified practitioner on an unspecified date.

The SMS promises that all appointment details will be furthered to me by (another) SMS, but only if I reply ‘yes’ to this one. Which leaves me in a bind. Without a date and time, I can’t truthfully say I’m able to accept this appointment. Yet accept it I must, in order to gain the information I need to determine if I really can accept it.

Irritated, I punch in a ‘yes’ reply and promptly forget about it.

One week later, another SMS from the hospital. Expecting a short line of text providing the appointment date and time, I find instead that the message simply states that an appointment is available which potentially I could take. Like the previous message, both date and time are missing, so it’s unclear whether this SMS is linked to the previous one, or whether, in some hospital miscommunication, I’m being offered two appointments. Perhaps I can choose between them?

Scanning last week’s SMS, comparing the instructions, I see that this new message is indeed a clone of the other because obtaining the appointment details requires another ‘yes’ reply from my end. So, narrow eyed, I repeat the same ‘yes’ process as the week before.

It is like logging into MyGov with its annoying two step authentication process.

Therefore, with MyGov’s process in mind, naively I assume that the hospital appointment details will be sent to me the instant this second reply is received by their automated system.

But no.

I wait, and wait. And wait. And wait.

Has the machine somehow lost my reply? Misunderstood it?
Or simply failed to acknowledge it?

**Will some technological failure mean I’ll lose this appointment (which I’ve waited months for)???**

Unable to bear the anxiety, eventually I call the contact number provided in both SMS, where, after 10 minutes of repetitive recorded messages, I’m informed by a kindly human that the automated SMS reply does not work instantly, because the robot inside the computer must first process the information, and that takes time.

I smoulder at her casual tone.

Helpfully however, she offers to provide the appointment details and do the confirmation over the phone. A twenty second job (15 seconds to find me in the system) for which I am ever grateful.

But.

Preparing to end the call, as I thank her profusely, saying, almost offhand, “so it’s all confirmed, isn’t it? This is all I have to do now, right?”, she chuckles.

“No. The appointment is now confirmed. But you’ll get another SMS, and you MUST reply to that message, to confirm the appointment. Then you’ll get an acknowledgement of confirmation SMS, and three days before your appointment you’ll get a reminder SMS. Don’t reply to that one.”

Indeed, frustratingly, three hours later the promised SMS message pops up on my phone, demanding my ‘yes’/‘no’ acceptance of the already confirmed appointment, followed ten minutes later by an SMS announcing the hospital’s confirmation of my confirmation of the appointment. And offering to post me a paper copy of the appointment details.

But only if I reply ‘yes’ to accept.

Seriously.

Two SMS messages. That’s all that’s needed - one offering the appointment (with ALL details provided) with an option to accept/decline/reschedule, and another to confirm my confirmation.