Dont get me wrong.  I know we have to have rules and I am all for them. However, I am against the “rules” being a cop-out when one is faced with using “common sense” to solve a problem.  I am afraid we may be raising a generation of people who have no initiative and this is caused by knowing that they only have to follow a set of rules to properly do their job.  No never mind whether they have solved a problem or just created a larger one.  They followed office rules!!!!!

I took my mother to a new doctor earlier in the week.  Was difficult to get the appointment as there must be an epidemic of ear problems in the area.  There are at least 9 doctors in this Ear, Nose and Throat clinic.  Upon arrival I was told that mother had to fill out a new patient form: normal enough, but they also wanted a photo ID.  A Photo ID for someone who has an ear ache?  How many people are going to see the ear doctor and using a stolen identity?  Can you get a drug prescription from an ear doctor?  Are there people who get sexual gratification from reading the eye chart or having a popsicle stick run down their throat and saying ahhhh?  We had her SS card, several credit cards but alas none had the necessary photo.  I was told that it was office policy not to see anyone without a photo ID.  So we were forced to leave, ear ache still raging.  Do ear doctors sign that Hippocratic oath thing that basically says that they will do no harm.  Not seeing a patient writhing in pain is my definition of Hippocratic oath violation.  We had no option but to seek the Photo ID.

In prior years, in order to get a license or ID you had to go to the local DPS office and sign in and wait.  I am not talking about a few minutes of waiting time.  I am talking a chicken in the picnic basket type wait.  You had better take your lunch, any medicines that you are scheduled to take during daylight hours and a change of clothing.  You need to make sure your relatives are aware that you are at the DPS so they dont report you as a missing person.

The Texas DPS now has a computerized system where you get in the waiting line before you leave your house to make the drive to their facility.  I sign up.  I was told I had 13 minutes to get there.  No way.  I had to pick up mother and drive 25 miles across town.  They kept dinging my mobile phone with messages that I am next in line. They also warned me against reading text messages while driving.  They finally informed me that I had lost my place in line and had 120 minutes to get back in line or else.  Or else what?  At this point I am having night sweats, my heart is racing and I am having visions of a man gone berserk at a state government office.  We arrive.  Because we had been booted out of line, we had to pick a ticket.  You know, like the one you get at the ice cream parlor that tells you that you are next in line behind the family of 12 who are first time visitors to the ice cream shoppe.  Those folks who decide that they each must try the most bizarre combination of sprinkles ever put on a scoop of ice cream.  Well, we are B38 and the overhead screen says we have a 13 minute wait.  They same exact amount of time they gave me to get across town.  We are eventually directed to post #1.  We make our way there and are greeted by a fellow who forgot his personality when he left for work.  I presented mother’s application, her birth certificate (which was locked inside a steel vault, no key)(which I had to bust into), her social security card, a bank statement and an Insurance policy.  Things to prove her identity and her residence.  Gomer the government worker poured over the documents like they were a trade agreement between Texas and the world-wide trade community.  He excitedly announced that we didn’t bring her utility bill.  I explained to him that she lived in a retirement community where her utilities were included in the rent and that all her bills were paid thru direct debit to her bank account .  He advised that utility bills were on the official list.  I asked him if his sister worked for an ear doctor in Corpus Christi.  He looked at me funny and said his sister didnt work.  At this point I was wondering how I could get to my car to get some type of fire arm to make a stand at the DPS office until they issued my mother an ID.  I found another bill in the pile of papers.  I showed it to him.  He said is was not a utility bill.  It was time to ask for a supervisor.  The supervisor poured over the documents for about 10 minutes and after reading 12 pages of my mother’s insurance policy she announced that proper documentation.  Another 45 minutes and we are on our way, with a temporary ID card.

All of my consternation could have been avoided had Gomer’s sister, at the ear doctor office, had simply taken some initiative and said, Hey, your mother is 92 years old, maybe we ought to cut her some slack.  Maybe if we let her in this time the tower of Pisa will not fall down.  “Do you know if she is addicted to ear wax removal liquid?”  “do you know if she is armed?”  No, that didnt happen.  Why?  Because she was following the list that comprised office policy.  Her job was safe.  She had protected the kingdom.  However, she did not solve the problem.

Chuy