In 7th and 8th grade I was always the first one up in the morning so I got to put the dog out. One cold, dark winter morning I woke up to snow. Our yard wasn't fenced, so we had a long tie out for Brian. It was buried somewhere under the snow, and I really didn't feel like fishing it out. I decided to take a chance that it was so cold and miserable he'd go out, potty, and come right back in. I should mention Brian was a beagle. And beagles are runners. I really should have known better. Door open, dog out, dog takes off. Jenni runs out on to patio to holler at the dog.
What I missed on my original inspection of the snow was the layer of ice underneath. While ice is actually more common here in Texas than snow, in Kansas City and Leavenworth snow was generally snow. In any case, I found myself flat on my back looking up at the sky. It was remarkably clear and the stars were twinkling. To this day I remember what I was wearing. My mom had this nightgown pattern than we used multiple times as we got taller and they wore out. This particular iteration was white flannel with little purple rosebuds. It gathered and tied at the neck, had elastic at the wrists, and went all the way to the ground (or did when it was first made). Serious grandma nightwear, but boy was it warm and comfortable.
I have no memory of how I got the dog back. What I remember is that I hurt both my tailbone and my neck. Had to sleep in a collar for a few days, and couldn't do anything like crunches in PE for weeks that required me to lie on the wood floor. The whole point of the story is that this may or may not be what precipitated my back problems. I didn't really start having issues until my early twenties, and this is the only thing I've been able to come up with.
I herniated the L5/S1 disk in 2004. Or rather, that disk got to the point where it needed intervention in 2004. I'm not entirely sure when the initial injury took place. It might have been a year earlier. That one was different than this one. I got gradually worse, then all of a sudden took a terrible turn for the worse where I couldn't sit, stand, lie, sleep, anything for a couple of days. Then the pain completely went away, but so did most of the feeling in my left leg. Therapy and injections went out the window and I was scheduled for surgery. The doc at the time said when you have pain, you can usually tell as soon as you wake up that things are better. But with the loss of feeling, it sometimes takes time to come back. Recovery was tough, especially since M&M were so little. It was a full six months before I could stand on my left foot and push up on my toes. And to this day I can trace a narrow path down my leg where there's no feeling.
Since then I've been very good about keeping up my strength exercises. They told me they removed over half the disk, and that I could need more surgery or fusion in the future. It was in my best interest to keep my back as healthy as I could.
Even back then I knew that the disk above showed degeneration as well, and this spring it finally reared its ugly head. This was new and different back pain, not the kind I was used to coming and going. The chiropractor tried several things, and I just kept getting worse, so off I went for an MRI. I thought it was the old bad disk finally needing attention again. But no, it was the L4/L5 disk that had herniated, trying to keep up with the Joneses I guess.
This time I had more classic symptoms, pain all the way down the leg. Luckily, lying on my left side alleviated it, so I could get some relief. I just couldn't get much done. I'd say from late April until surgery yesterday, I spent more time in bed than out of it. Steroid injections did me no good, and at that point, the surgery I had originally dreaded became welcome. I wanted my life back.
Getting to the point of surgery was a bit of an adventure. They send you to your primary care doc for tests and clearance ahead of time. I did that Monday. Tuesday afternoon I get a phone call from the nurse that one of the vials didn't have enough blood in it to run the required test. Sigh. Drop everything and drive to Garland again. Driving hurts. And I had the car with the sucky gas mileage. And I had to take toll roads. Cost me an hour and $8. On the plus side, I think I was in the facility all of 3 minutes. They knew they had screwed up and did their best.
Then Wednesday about 2PM I get a call from the surgeon's office that they haven't received all the results and clearance from my PCP. Aack! Mild panic attack. Called the PCP who said they'd already sent it but would send again. Surgeon's office called slightly after that to tell me it all came through. Phew. Crisis averted. I was ready for this surgery and did NOT want to delay over something stupid like that.
I'd only been taking Advil for pain and had to quit that in advance of surgery. My backup plan has been a nice glass of wine, but I had to give that up 72 hours prior to surgery too. So the last few days were not fun. Especially with two drives out to Garland. But we got there.
The thing I found most surprising at the hospital was how shocked everybody was that I had actually read all of my instructions and followed them. Although after reading this the day before, maybe I shouldn't have been.
When they took us back and headed to a plain room, I spotted the pediatric ones and jokingly said, "What? I don't get monkeys?" So the nurse changed directions and I got the fishy room. I then got questioned and poked and prodded for a while and hooked up to all sorts of stuff before heading back to surgery at 8:30. The anesthesiologist had a trick I hadn't seen before. He had me hold the oxygen mask to my face and said I'd feel a tingle in the IV. I guess they know you're out when you drop the mask.
Dave said they called him back at 9:15 to discuss surgery, so they were pretty close to on target when they told me the procedure only takes 30 minutes. The doctor said the disk they did surgery on today is probably 65-70% gone, and the old problem child is 80% gone. Considering the fact that I'm only 43 (at last for another two days) I will most likely need those disks fused sometime during my life.
I woke up at 10:05 feeling pretty darn good. Pain in the leg was completely gone. Surgery pain was there, but that I can deal with; it gets better! The nurse and I were chatting away about board games. Every once in a while she'd ask how the pain was and I'd tell her no different and she'd give me more meds. At one point they called Dave and said another 15-20 minutes before I'd be back to the other area to get ready to go home.
After several attempts at the first medicine weren't making a dent in things, she switched to something else. I don't even know what it was. It worked great. Pain went away, but boy was I woozy and dizzy. I felt completely drunk. They brought me some apple juice. I took two sips and almost tossed my cookies. We switched to ice chips. Ate one and almost tossed them again. Whatever that medicine was, it made me extremely nauseous. So much for 15-20 minutes. Now they started hitting my IV with anti-nausea drugs. (Funny aside, in trying to type IV, the "R" popped onto the end involuntarily. Talk about muscle memory.)
So now, two hours later I've slept off the worst of it and we decide to try to get me home. I'd much rather sleep it off in my own bed. Wheel me back to the outpatient area (and I got the monkey room this time!), took my vitals, reviewed my discharge instructions (again, they were shocked I already knew them all), and off we went. It was pretty touchy. I was afraid I was going to be sick all the way home. We were home at 2PM and I went straight to bed while Dave went to the pharmacy.
After a couple of hours, I was feeling good enough to get up and move around, which is extremely important. The worst thing you can do is be still and lie around all day. The rest of the day was getting up and moving, sitting in the living room a while, then going back to lie down. I kept expecting to get hungry, but it was quite a while before the nausea was really under control. At 8PM I finally managed to drink a ginger ale. I followed that up with 8 tiny pretzels. That was it for the day.
I made the decision to get up and walk every couple of hours last night, and I think it's one of the best ideas I've ever had. Just doing a few laps around the downstairs kept me loose. This morning I'm already lengthening the time between pain pills. I am definitely on the road to recovery.
I thank you all for your prayers and kind words through this. Couldn't have done it without them.
Friday, June 20, 2014
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Stuck in the Shower
Our shower door has been getting harder and harder to open. We have stared at it multiple times, trying to figure out what could possibly be adjusted. It looked to be out of square, with the bottom corner hanging too low. Short of taking it completely apart, there wasn't an obvious answer. So we just kept having to push hard. Lately, I've been afraid it was going to break under the pressure, but obviously not enough to insist we do something about it.
This morning the hubby showered just fine. I got in right as he was leaving for work. When I went to get out, I couldn't. The usual amount of pressure wasn't doing it. I added a little more. Nothing. I tried a couple more times. Nothing. Hmm. Started hollering for Little M who was up and getting ready. After several minutes of this she shows up, peeks in the door, and asks if I was calling her. (Duh, yeah.)
I explain the situation and we attempt to open the door together, one from either side. Still nothing. At this point I am starting to sweat from the exertion (not great post-shower) and having trouble trying to work and hold a towel up. So I ask for undergarments. She spends quite a lot of time in my closet getting them, and I discover why when she comes back with the brightest things I own, one orange and one purple, "So you can be colorful" she says. Not sure that colorful was at the top of my priority list right then, but that's my girl, so I went with it.
We tried a couple more things before I sent her to wake up Big M. We try pushing on the bottom where it's stuck. Nothing. We know the door has slid too low, so we even try putting our hands up on the glass across from each other and try to slide it up enough to clear the ledge. No dice. At this point we call Dad, who is nearly to work thirty something miles away. Oh, and he wasn't driving. It wasn't his day for carpool.
He suggested sliding a towel down the crack from the top to the bottom to allow us to put pressure on the very bottom. We dutifully tried it, pulling like crazy at the bottom. Didn't budge. I'm now contemplating climbing up over the top. I have the girls bring the two-step ladder and pass it in to me, and put a chair on the other side. I climb up and realize I am still quite far from the top. And the railing at the top is going to really hurt. And there's no guarantee it's going to be pretty getting down the other side. And I'm not too sure it will support my weight anyway.
Big M has the idea that if we work a towel under the bottom we could lift it up. We try. The problem is it's so tight we can't get the towel under the corner. All we succeed in doing is putting a hole through the towel.
At this point Little M is nearly late for school, and has definitely missed her safety patrol duties. I send her on her way to walk by her lonesome and Big M and I continue plotting.
We move on to disassembly as an option. Big M brings a screwdriver and we start taking out screws. The ones that come out easily do not gain us anything. The ones we really need to move to get the door off are corroded and won't budge. At this point we call the hubby again. He more or less commands me to not try climbing out, and he has a point. If it breaks and I impale myself on breaking glass, that wouldn't be so great. He and his co-worker have badged into work to get credit for being in the office that day before they turn around to come rescue me and work from home the rest of the day.
And in the meantime, Big M brought me clothing, a book, my phone, and a pillow to make my wait comfortable and finishes getting herself ready for school.
After a couple of chapters I hear the front door. My rescuer has arrived. He assesses the situation, and we again try to remove screws to no avail. We succeed in taking the top railing off, but without being able to remove the door, it doesn't do us much good. Next he tries to bend the metal that is blocking the door. At this point we don't care what we destroy, but it's not budging either.
He has a similar idea to Big M's about getting underneath it and disappears to the garage, returning with a really big, long screwdriver. He can just get it under the corner on the side, works it under and uses it at as a lever, and the entire piece of glass rises inside the frame. A couple more lifts at different spots, and I'm free! My bathroom looks like a construction zone, but I don't care.
This morning the hubby showered just fine. I got in right as he was leaving for work. When I went to get out, I couldn't. The usual amount of pressure wasn't doing it. I added a little more. Nothing. I tried a couple more times. Nothing. Hmm. Started hollering for Little M who was up and getting ready. After several minutes of this she shows up, peeks in the door, and asks if I was calling her. (Duh, yeah.)
I explain the situation and we attempt to open the door together, one from either side. Still nothing. At this point I am starting to sweat from the exertion (not great post-shower) and having trouble trying to work and hold a towel up. So I ask for undergarments. She spends quite a lot of time in my closet getting them, and I discover why when she comes back with the brightest things I own, one orange and one purple, "So you can be colorful" she says. Not sure that colorful was at the top of my priority list right then, but that's my girl, so I went with it.
We tried a couple more things before I sent her to wake up Big M. We try pushing on the bottom where it's stuck. Nothing. We know the door has slid too low, so we even try putting our hands up on the glass across from each other and try to slide it up enough to clear the ledge. No dice. At this point we call Dad, who is nearly to work thirty something miles away. Oh, and he wasn't driving. It wasn't his day for carpool.
He suggested sliding a towel down the crack from the top to the bottom to allow us to put pressure on the very bottom. We dutifully tried it, pulling like crazy at the bottom. Didn't budge. I'm now contemplating climbing up over the top. I have the girls bring the two-step ladder and pass it in to me, and put a chair on the other side. I climb up and realize I am still quite far from the top. And the railing at the top is going to really hurt. And there's no guarantee it's going to be pretty getting down the other side. And I'm not too sure it will support my weight anyway.
Big M has the idea that if we work a towel under the bottom we could lift it up. We try. The problem is it's so tight we can't get the towel under the corner. All we succeed in doing is putting a hole through the towel.
At this point Little M is nearly late for school, and has definitely missed her safety patrol duties. I send her on her way to walk by her lonesome and Big M and I continue plotting.
We move on to disassembly as an option. Big M brings a screwdriver and we start taking out screws. The ones that come out easily do not gain us anything. The ones we really need to move to get the door off are corroded and won't budge. At this point we call the hubby again. He more or less commands me to not try climbing out, and he has a point. If it breaks and I impale myself on breaking glass, that wouldn't be so great. He and his co-worker have badged into work to get credit for being in the office that day before they turn around to come rescue me and work from home the rest of the day.
And in the meantime, Big M brought me clothing, a book, my phone, and a pillow to make my wait comfortable and finishes getting herself ready for school.
After a couple of chapters I hear the front door. My rescuer has arrived. He assesses the situation, and we again try to remove screws to no avail. We succeed in taking the top railing off, but without being able to remove the door, it doesn't do us much good. Next he tries to bend the metal that is blocking the door. At this point we don't care what we destroy, but it's not budging either.
He has a similar idea to Big M's about getting underneath it and disappears to the garage, returning with a really big, long screwdriver. He can just get it under the corner on the side, works it under and uses it at as a lever, and the entire piece of glass rises inside the frame. A couple more lifts at different spots, and I'm free! My bathroom looks like a construction zone, but I don't care.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
When Up Is Down and Down Is Up: Or When Mental Models Conflict
My husband drives a 1997 Explorer. It pre-dates our relationship. The engine has given us very few problems over the years, but things are starting to break. Luckily the hubby is frugal and an expert at finding instructions on how to replace everything from door handles (3) to seat belts (1). The most complicated repair he has done is on the power window. There are some little bitty plastic gear things inside that apparently get worn to little crumbs over the course of 17 years. The YouTube video cautions to follow directions exactly. If you do it wrong, you can slice off body parts. Yikes.
Last year he replaced the driver's side. This year the passenger side stopped working, so he reviewed the video, bought another packet of the plastic doo-hickies, and had at it. There are magnets that are part of this whole assembly. And we found out after he was done that if you put them in the wrong way, when you press the up button on the window it goes down and vice versa. We all laughed it off, decided it wasn't worth another hour and a half to take it all apart and flip them around. We don't use the window all that often and it's kind of funny that it's backwards.
A few weeks ago I got my first new car since 1996. Granted, I had one new-to-me car in between, but since it was almost an exact copy of the 1996 car it felt like the same car for all that time. I love my new car. Love, love, love it. But there is a major flaw in the audio system.
There are three bands for XM radio. We have designated one the pop band. The first four stations are, in order, The Blend, Hits, 80s, and 90s. The nice touch screen puts them in a list with The Blend on top (in slot number 1) and 90s at the bottom (in slot number 4). To change stations I can push on the one I want.
But it also has buttons on the steering wheel to move between presets. One arrow points up and one points down. Here is where we get to the second example of when up is down and down is up. To move from The Blend to Hits, I have to push the up arrow. Remember, on the screen, The Blend is right above Hits, so my instincts say to push the down arrow. But no, since The Blend is 1 and Hits is 2, and 2 is higher than 1, I have to hit the up arrow. This is wrong, wrong, wrong.
I have seen this on TV/cable/satellite remotes when visiting other people. Ours, however, goes the other way. (The right way.) I had to sit and ponder to figure out what causes the problem, and this is where my subtitle comes in. We have two mental models at work here. One is the visual representation which says down arrow to go down in the list. The other model is that to go to a bigger number you go up. Two models which independently make sense. But taken together, they are in complete conflict.
In this case, the designers chose wrong. The visual representation is much stronger than the numerical one. The numbers are just labels. They don't really mean anything. The fact that I have used my DVR controls for years without ever noticing that, "Hey, to go from channel 124 to 125 I hit the down arrow, weird," tells you the visual is what's important.
And let's say somebody at the car company just couldn't deal with the numerical model being completely backwards. Is there another solution? I looked to my old car for that answer. It didn't have the nice display, but it also had an up and down arrow for moving between presets. But the six presets weren't listed top to bottom. Since it was manual buttons, they went left to right. So for that situation, up going from 1 to 2, left to right, makes sense.
Back to my touch screen. Top to bottom really is the best way to display it visually. So what do you do with the buttons? The obvious solution is to reverse the functions and have up go from 2 to 1 so it matches the screen. The alternative is to switch the buttons to have a left and right arrow. Then they act more like next and previous, so right can move from 1 to 2, and left from 2 to 1.
We put 2500 miles on the car over our Christmas road trip, and I'm still struggling with the buttons. The only wan I can do it at all is to think of the up button as next and the down button as previous. But I really shouldn't have to think so hard to change the darn channel.
Last year he replaced the driver's side. This year the passenger side stopped working, so he reviewed the video, bought another packet of the plastic doo-hickies, and had at it. There are magnets that are part of this whole assembly. And we found out after he was done that if you put them in the wrong way, when you press the up button on the window it goes down and vice versa. We all laughed it off, decided it wasn't worth another hour and a half to take it all apart and flip them around. We don't use the window all that often and it's kind of funny that it's backwards.
A few weeks ago I got my first new car since 1996. Granted, I had one new-to-me car in between, but since it was almost an exact copy of the 1996 car it felt like the same car for all that time. I love my new car. Love, love, love it. But there is a major flaw in the audio system.
There are three bands for XM radio. We have designated one the pop band. The first four stations are, in order, The Blend, Hits, 80s, and 90s. The nice touch screen puts them in a list with The Blend on top (in slot number 1) and 90s at the bottom (in slot number 4). To change stations I can push on the one I want.
But it also has buttons on the steering wheel to move between presets. One arrow points up and one points down. Here is where we get to the second example of when up is down and down is up. To move from The Blend to Hits, I have to push the up arrow. Remember, on the screen, The Blend is right above Hits, so my instincts say to push the down arrow. But no, since The Blend is 1 and Hits is 2, and 2 is higher than 1, I have to hit the up arrow. This is wrong, wrong, wrong.
I have seen this on TV/cable/satellite remotes when visiting other people. Ours, however, goes the other way. (The right way.) I had to sit and ponder to figure out what causes the problem, and this is where my subtitle comes in. We have two mental models at work here. One is the visual representation which says down arrow to go down in the list. The other model is that to go to a bigger number you go up. Two models which independently make sense. But taken together, they are in complete conflict.
In this case, the designers chose wrong. The visual representation is much stronger than the numerical one. The numbers are just labels. They don't really mean anything. The fact that I have used my DVR controls for years without ever noticing that, "Hey, to go from channel 124 to 125 I hit the down arrow, weird," tells you the visual is what's important.
And let's say somebody at the car company just couldn't deal with the numerical model being completely backwards. Is there another solution? I looked to my old car for that answer. It didn't have the nice display, but it also had an up and down arrow for moving between presets. But the six presets weren't listed top to bottom. Since it was manual buttons, they went left to right. So for that situation, up going from 1 to 2, left to right, makes sense.
Back to my touch screen. Top to bottom really is the best way to display it visually. So what do you do with the buttons? The obvious solution is to reverse the functions and have up go from 2 to 1 so it matches the screen. The alternative is to switch the buttons to have a left and right arrow. Then they act more like next and previous, so right can move from 1 to 2, and left from 2 to 1.
We put 2500 miles on the car over our Christmas road trip, and I'm still struggling with the buttons. The only wan I can do it at all is to think of the up button as next and the down button as previous. But I really shouldn't have to think so hard to change the darn channel.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Self Service Kiosks in NYC
I just spent a week in NYC, partly for SpeechTEK and partly for vacation. The conference always gets me thinking in big terms about design and self-service, and the rest of the trip gave me plenty of opportunities to test or prove my theories.
One thing that came up a couple of times again this year is that people have a pretty good idea of when they can successfully use self-service and when they need help. I say pretty good because those of us providing the service occasionally surprise the customer with something that can be automated that they didn't expect. And honestly, the converse is sometimes true as well.
The proliferation and adoption of kiosks is often cited to support willingness to use self-service when given the choice. I encountered kiosks in a variety of places during my trip. Here are my reflections on each.
Airline Checkin
OK, so the first one wasn't in NYC but here at DFW. I very happily used the kiosk to check my bag in. Although what I will never understand is why after checking in and getting a mobile boarding pass on my phone, the kiosk prints me a new one without asking me if I need it.
The Subway
All subway entrances have kiosks, and they tell you where to find a person if you need it. Buying a MetroCard should be easy enough, so I set out to use the kiosk. My first question (which I couldn't find answered) was if more than one person could use the same MetroCard. Did all four of us need our own? Or could I load one up and pass it back for the next family member to swipe?
I decided to not chance it and buy four. There is no way to buy more than one at a time from the kiosk. I had to buy each one individually, and had to start completely over each time. I even played around a bit trying different options to see if I could get more than one at once by going down different paths. No such luck. Strike 1.
Strike 2 may or may not be a design problem. I was paying with credit card, and on the third MetroCard, it denied the card. No idea if it senses fraud and blocks it or if I simply had a hiccup with my card. But frustrating nonetheless. Good thing I had a second card on me. Overall the subway self-service got a thumbs down.
Natural History Museum
The museum has a typical line for buying tickets at a counter with multiple agents. They also have several kiosks. The line was about 10 people deep while the kiosks were completely empty. I gladly chose the kiosk although I wondered if something was wrong with them at first since nobody was using them. We got our tickets quickly and easily and bypassed the line. Worked great, although I'm not sure why the rest of the folks didn't key in on their availability.
Airline Checkin, Part 2
For the return trip, I didn't have an assigned seat (not sure why) so couldn't check in on my mobile. The rest of the family had middle seats in consecutive rows. Not exactly ideal, but I wasn't going to spring for the fees to put us together (they charge for everything these days!). Lines at LaGuardia are definitely not short, but we went straight to them, bypassing available kiosks because we knew we had to get the seats taken care of.
Agents would regularly come to the line and tout the speed of the kiosks, and people would duly change over. After the second or third of these, and since we had two of us there, the hubby jumped out of line just to see if the kiosk could do what we needed, but no such luck. In this case we were willing to wait in line for an agent.
Summary
If I'm typical (which I may not be, being so heavily invested in the self-service world), then yes, people often know what can be done with and without an agent, and choose their service modality appropriately. But there is still loads of improvement in the actual delivery of the self-service tool.
One thing that came up a couple of times again this year is that people have a pretty good idea of when they can successfully use self-service and when they need help. I say pretty good because those of us providing the service occasionally surprise the customer with something that can be automated that they didn't expect. And honestly, the converse is sometimes true as well.
The proliferation and adoption of kiosks is often cited to support willingness to use self-service when given the choice. I encountered kiosks in a variety of places during my trip. Here are my reflections on each.
Airline Checkin
OK, so the first one wasn't in NYC but here at DFW. I very happily used the kiosk to check my bag in. Although what I will never understand is why after checking in and getting a mobile boarding pass on my phone, the kiosk prints me a new one without asking me if I need it.
The Subway
All subway entrances have kiosks, and they tell you where to find a person if you need it. Buying a MetroCard should be easy enough, so I set out to use the kiosk. My first question (which I couldn't find answered) was if more than one person could use the same MetroCard. Did all four of us need our own? Or could I load one up and pass it back for the next family member to swipe?
I decided to not chance it and buy four. There is no way to buy more than one at a time from the kiosk. I had to buy each one individually, and had to start completely over each time. I even played around a bit trying different options to see if I could get more than one at once by going down different paths. No such luck. Strike 1.
Strike 2 may or may not be a design problem. I was paying with credit card, and on the third MetroCard, it denied the card. No idea if it senses fraud and blocks it or if I simply had a hiccup with my card. But frustrating nonetheless. Good thing I had a second card on me. Overall the subway self-service got a thumbs down.
Natural History Museum
The museum has a typical line for buying tickets at a counter with multiple agents. They also have several kiosks. The line was about 10 people deep while the kiosks were completely empty. I gladly chose the kiosk although I wondered if something was wrong with them at first since nobody was using them. We got our tickets quickly and easily and bypassed the line. Worked great, although I'm not sure why the rest of the folks didn't key in on their availability.
Airline Checkin, Part 2
For the return trip, I didn't have an assigned seat (not sure why) so couldn't check in on my mobile. The rest of the family had middle seats in consecutive rows. Not exactly ideal, but I wasn't going to spring for the fees to put us together (they charge for everything these days!). Lines at LaGuardia are definitely not short, but we went straight to them, bypassing available kiosks because we knew we had to get the seats taken care of.
Agents would regularly come to the line and tout the speed of the kiosks, and people would duly change over. After the second or third of these, and since we had two of us there, the hubby jumped out of line just to see if the kiosk could do what we needed, but no such luck. In this case we were willing to wait in line for an agent.
Summary
If I'm typical (which I may not be, being so heavily invested in the self-service world), then yes, people often know what can be done with and without an agent, and choose their service modality appropriately. But there is still loads of improvement in the actual delivery of the self-service tool.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Bill Payment and Bad Design
I had to have a medical test done at the end of April. Last week I got two things in the mail. A bill for my portion, and a check for the same amount out of my flexible spending account. I have no clue where my EOB is. I finally figured out it must be subject to my deductible which I haven't reached. Fair enough.
Oh, and I got a bill and a check for each of two things: the test and the doctor's fees for reading it. Luckily both could be paid online. Much easier, right?
The first one I had to create an account for, with password, security questions, and the like. Here are all the things that were wrong with it.
Although now that I think about it, that's just wrong too. If they ask for the account number, they should know what kind it is. And besides, there's no guarantee that you have the paper bill in front of you, especially if you're coming back for subsequent payments.
Why does bad design persist? Very simple and inexpensive testing would uncover these things.
Oh, and I got a bill and a check for each of two things: the test and the doctor's fees for reading it. Luckily both could be paid online. Much easier, right?
The first one I had to create an account for, with password, security questions, and the like. Here are all the things that were wrong with it.
- One field was "account nickname." As I have no reason to think I'll be back, I left it blank. Error message number one. It wasn't optional. Sigh.
- My next error message was that my password didn't meet the requirements. Doggoneit, I looked for requirements when I was putting it in and there weren't any. They don't bother to tell you until you've screwed up.
- Nowhere did it tell me my balance (or at least, nowhere I could find). If I didn't have the piece of paper in front of me, I wouldn't have known how much to pay. That's just plain dumb.
- I had to fill out patient information, including address. Never mind the fact that they mailed me the bill with the account number on it.
- I had to enter the same address for the billing info. Every two-bit e-commerce site has a check box to use the same information for billing that you've already entered. Is health care that intent on making us miserable?
- I had to enter my address in three places. Geez.
- The payment page had the American Express logo along with MasterCard and Visa, but guess what. It wasn't in the drop down. Had to walk downstairs for the other card. Seriously, why put the logo there if you don't take it?
Although now that I think about it, that's just wrong too. If they ask for the account number, they should know what kind it is. And besides, there's no guarantee that you have the paper bill in front of you, especially if you're coming back for subsequent payments.
Why does bad design persist? Very simple and inexpensive testing would uncover these things.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Design Analysis #1 - Caution Signs
I started to title this design rant number one, but I promise to never rant about bad design without offering an alternative or at least exploring what's wrong with it. And I'm numbering them because I know it'll be a frequent topic.
This is something that has bugged me for the entire six years I've been at Travelocity. As you're walking in from the garage, you have to cross a road. It's really more of a divided driveway as its only purpose is for drop off. Because of this, at most times of day, traffic is very sparse. You could easily walk into the office a dozen times in a row without seeing a car.
Lest the sense of complacency this leads to causes an unwary pedestrian to be run over by a colleague's car pool, the company has put up caution signs to remind you that you're crossing a road, or rather two one-way roads since it's divided. Here they are.
(One was in the shade and one in the sun when I photographed them. They are really basically the same.)
So what bugs me? They just have never felt right. And I finally spent the time to think about why. I think it boils down to the fact that we read left to right. The left sign is particularly problematic. The first thing you see is the arrow. The fact that it's pointing left draws your eye from right to left. But then you want to read the sign, so your eyes jump back to the right. You read the message, and again look to the left as it says. So eyes going everywhere.
The right isn't quite as bad. But the tendency is still to follow the arrow to the right, then jump back and actually read the message.
I think the first solution is to put the arrow after the message. Read first, then follow arrow to follow directions, and you never have to look back at the sign. The arrow being first makes you jump all over the place. With the right sign this works beautifully. You track left to right to read the message, and just keep following the arrow in the same direction.
Left is, like I said, more problematic. Moving the arrow means you track left to right to read, then jump back to the left to follow the arrow. Not much of a way around a jump at some point.
I also wondered if maybe a big arrow with the words inside might be better. This would eliminate the left to right issue of processing text and arrow sequentially. If I have time later I'll draw it up and put it here.
Is the sign as is effective? Yes, it's fine. It just bugs me because it doesn't feel right and could be better. But I guarantee you nobody usability tested this sucker and did eye tracking. The geek in me would love to do it.
This is something that has bugged me for the entire six years I've been at Travelocity. As you're walking in from the garage, you have to cross a road. It's really more of a divided driveway as its only purpose is for drop off. Because of this, at most times of day, traffic is very sparse. You could easily walk into the office a dozen times in a row without seeing a car.
Lest the sense of complacency this leads to causes an unwary pedestrian to be run over by a colleague's car pool, the company has put up caution signs to remind you that you're crossing a road, or rather two one-way roads since it's divided. Here they are.
(One was in the shade and one in the sun when I photographed them. They are really basically the same.)
So what bugs me? They just have never felt right. And I finally spent the time to think about why. I think it boils down to the fact that we read left to right. The left sign is particularly problematic. The first thing you see is the arrow. The fact that it's pointing left draws your eye from right to left. But then you want to read the sign, so your eyes jump back to the right. You read the message, and again look to the left as it says. So eyes going everywhere.
The right isn't quite as bad. But the tendency is still to follow the arrow to the right, then jump back and actually read the message.
I think the first solution is to put the arrow after the message. Read first, then follow arrow to follow directions, and you never have to look back at the sign. The arrow being first makes you jump all over the place. With the right sign this works beautifully. You track left to right to read the message, and just keep following the arrow in the same direction.
Left is, like I said, more problematic. Moving the arrow means you track left to right to read, then jump back to the left to follow the arrow. Not much of a way around a jump at some point.
I also wondered if maybe a big arrow with the words inside might be better. This would eliminate the left to right issue of processing text and arrow sequentially. If I have time later I'll draw it up and put it here.
Is the sign as is effective? Yes, it's fine. It just bugs me because it doesn't feel right and could be better. But I guarantee you nobody usability tested this sucker and did eye tracking. The geek in me would love to do it.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Counting My Blessings
I spent the night last night in the guest bed. My hip was hurting terribly, and it's currently the mattress I like the most. Started ticking off all the lousy health genes my parents passed on to me as I was trying to wake up: bad back (which ties into the hip issue), worse knees, asthma, tooth issues, sensitive tummy, chronic depression.
All of a sudden it hit me. Quit being a wuss! None of those things are life threatening or even all that life altering. So I have to bike or swim rather than run. So I do none of those things very fast. So I'm the proud owner of six crowns. I'm not dying and treatment has not left me destitute.
And look at all the other wonderful things in my life. My family and friends, a job I love.
So my prayer this morning is this. Lord, attitude adjustment accomplished. Now please take away the hip pain so I can sleep.
All of a sudden it hit me. Quit being a wuss! None of those things are life threatening or even all that life altering. So I have to bike or swim rather than run. So I do none of those things very fast. So I'm the proud owner of six crowns. I'm not dying and treatment has not left me destitute.
And look at all the other wonderful things in my life. My family and friends, a job I love.
So my prayer this morning is this. Lord, attitude adjustment accomplished. Now please take away the hip pain so I can sleep.
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