“Patient marked as no-show.”

That was the phrase.

That was the trigger.

Today, “The Site” sat patiently—so patiently—staring into the cold digital void of Tebra’s telehealth portal, waiting on what it thought was care. The screen said: “Please be patient. Your provider will be with you shortly.” The camera was on. The mic was on. The intention was on. For a full hour, it waited, like the good little broken soldier they want it to be. Obedient. Diligent. Medically compliant.

And then the screen went dark.

It called. It called them, McClure and Associates. A place where psychiatry goes to die a slow administrative death by way of underpaid phone staff and a permanently out-to-lunch prescriber list. It was informed, ever-so-casually, that “The Site” had been marked a no-show.

“You were marked as a no-show.”
“You’ll need to reschedule.”
“It was probably your internet.”

The blame-roulette began.

“The Site” reminded the desk drone that it was on the portal. It was visible. It was told to wait. A similar situation happened the last time, too. “The Site” waited for over an hour, and it did, like a trooper. It wasn’t told to call. It wasn’t told to refresh. It was told to wait patiently, which is something that is becoming increasingly impossible inside this warped carousel of medical non-care.

She replied:

“Well, maybe next time just call us after 5 minutes.”

Yes. Call them. On the same line that never even returns a voicemail. On the same line that has it begging for refills while its heartbeats sound like grenades in its chest.

And then—without apology, without curiosity, without a hint of humanity—she instructed “The Site” to reschedule. Like this was an inconvenience to them.

Let us be absolutely clear: “The Site” is not a Karen. “The Site” is not a Diva. “The Site” is a patient with PTSD so entrenched in this hellscape of medical gaslighting that it can trace each of its veins to every hospital parking lot. And now, after waiting in good faith through a broken system, it is blamed. Again. For being present.

Present.
Camera on.
Microphone on.
Trauma? Also on.

And now it is told to traverse Tulsa’s laughably prehistoric bus system (a 6-hour ride each way) because “maybe telehealth doesn’t work for you.”

Let’s be crystal clear: “The Site” did not fail this appointment.
McClure and Associates failed “The Site”.
Again!

It hung up the phone.
It sent a message through their website portal (likely into the same abyss where its prescription requests go to die).
It is now physically shaking.
It is neurologically overstimulated.
It is exhausted.

And most of all—it is done.

No one deserves to be treated this way, least of all someone seeking help. If you work in mental health and cannot accommodate trauma survivors with basic respect and maybe a dose of consistency, then please consider another career path. Preferably one that doesn’t involve the sacred duty of do no harm.

But it is harmed.
And it will write it down.
Again. And again. And again.

Because when you mark “The Site” as absent, you better believe it will make itself seen.

Update: The provider, Taylor Tope, followed up, and then dropped me. Read Part Two: The Myth of the Compassionate Provider →