My pet hatred of texts and answerphone messages

One Saturday afternoon a number of years ago, when my children were still young and innocent, a message was left on our answerphone.

One of my children listened to the message and attempted to relay it to me. “Dad” they said, “a man from the hospital has called wanting you do some special test on Mr Smith of 47 Acacia Avenue, Little Sodbury. He has got a dysfunctional reptile. What’s that?”

Sure enough, I replayed the message and listened to one of my colleagues give comprehensive details of Mr Smith’s erectile dysfunction problems, and could I do a private bonking dongogram on him (well I would hardly do it in public), a test still not made entirely redundant by Viagra.

I told the kids that Mr Smith’s problem made it difficult for him to get up in the morning (almost correct, only one word missing).

Over the years I have had a number of similar messages (although with differing clinical scenarios - I am not that specialised), more generally from junior doctors who believed it was perfectly reasonable to leave confidential clinical and personal details on an open domestic answerphone.

I have always hated answer-phones which I rate alongside texting. I do not deny that both may occasionally be a convenient method of imparting information, (loudly, “I’m on the train”), but as forms of communication they are little better than semaphore. However, despite this clear clinical misuse, my strongest objection is that by their very impersonality they allow the sender to transfer responsibility for the message onto the recipient; that they have done their job and are no longer accountable for the outcome.

Why didn’t you tell me the meeting was cancelled? “I left a message on your answerphone” (so it is clearly your fault for not picking up).

“We need an urgent specialised procedure on Mrs Smith; we know you are not on call but can we leave it to you to sort out?” (And now that we have dumped the responsibility onto you, we can put our feet up and watch the rugby).

“Ur dumped, its ovr. Dnt try 2 call me.” (I know that I am behaving like a complete tosser, but it is easier on me to do it this way than actually to have to face you).

“Sorry to phone so late. My GP has just signed me off for another two weeks so I will not be in on Monday. I will keep you updated.” (I have deliberately phoned when I knew that there would be no one in the office to take my call so that I would not have to try to explain my extended absence on the vague grounds of ’stress’. I also know that you cannot telephone me back otherwise I would be able to claim harassment should I need to take you to an employment tribunal).

And, of course, “U R fired”. (Don’t bother coming in; we’ve changed the security codes. Your personal things will be sent on to you).

Sigh!