Double Vision with Charlie Adley
I’m pumped up with goodness and positive energy and yes, now is the time to make those phone calls. You know the ones. They start with recorded messages before you even get to the press-button menus and holding tunes. Don’t go there, Adley. Don’t spoil it now. I’ve checked that my happiness tank is full and my fortitude levels are way up my mental dipstick. It’d be stupid to wreck the mission by blowing a gasket now, leaking anger into my brainbox at the thought of what lies ahead.
Whatever it is you’re calling a company or institution about, it’s never the fault of the person on the other end of the line. They didn’t make the rules. They’re not responsible for your predicament.
You’re way more likely to get a result if you’ve a full tank of patience and a purring engine supplying a smile to your voice. Act a bit human. Call them by name. Get into all that empathy hoojamaflip.
Anyway the first call isn’t to a bank or internet service provider, so it won’t be too bad.
She says hello, University College Hospital, and I ask to be put through to Mental Health Services.
It rings. It rings and rings and I do not mind. I am ready, prepared, and I’d rather listen to a ring than an ear-shattering rendition of ‘Total Eclipse Of The Heart’ played on a blade of grass.
This is fine.
It rings and rings, so I sit back, breathe out and relax, thinking of all the people rushing around that hospital, trying to make the best of scandalously ill-funded jobs.
Oh, I’m back to reception.
“Sorry about that, I’ll try another number for you now.”
I’m surprised and gratified that she even knew I was still hanging on.
It rings and rings. Rings and rings and rings and then I’m back to herself again, who apologises again and puts me into another number which, yes, rings.
Holding the phone a little away from my ear, I think of how busy Mental Health Services must be right now, with everyone upset about the Tracker Mortgage scandal.
To read Charlie’s column in full, please see this week’s Galway City Tribune.