Column: The downside of 21st-century telecommunications

I was getting into my car the other day when my cell phone rang. I checked to see if it was my husband, Paul, or one of my staff. It wasn’t, but it did have a 207 area code and looked like a local number. Knowing my optometrist’s office had been trying to reach me, I decided to take a chance and answer it.

Yes, it’s true. I’m sometimes afraid to answer my cell phone.

This is a rather recent problem for me. I hate the constant stream of solicitations and scams on our landline, and I appreciated the fact that only family, friends and medical providers knew my cell phone number.

That has changed over the past couple of years. My first warning came as I was headed down the hallway at work. I was going to a meeting. I looked to see who was calling and it was someone using a number in Ohio.

I don’t know anyone in Ohio. After my meeting, I looked at my phone and saw that the caller had left voicemail. Curious, I pressed play.

The person claimed to be calling from a hospital business office. I was responsible for the payment of the bills of one Blanche Whitmore (not her real name). Ms. Whitmore apparently had been treated at the hospital and subsequently died. It was not clear to me whether I was the mother, sister or legal guardian of Blanche Whitmore. All I gathered was that Ms. Whitmore’s illness was protracted and her treatment costly—and I needed to pay the hospital posthaste. I was instructed to call the hospital as soon as possible.

I stood stunned for a moment. Obviously the Ohio hospital’s business office had gotten hold of the wrong person, assuming the call was legit. But who did they think they were talking to? I replayed the beginning of the message. “Elizabeth,” it began.

Wow. They had reached the wrong Elizabeth. I didn’t want to think about how this could have happened, as I have never had any dealings with any Ohio hospitals. Moreover, I was disturbed by the amount of personal information about the patient that the staffer had left on voicemail. Scary.

Perhaps I should have called the “hospital” back and told them that not only had they reached the wrong person, but they had likely violated HIPAA (the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act) in the process. But I have done battle with hospital business offices and my health insurance representatives on my own account. I let this bear sleep.

Soon after, I began noticing calls coming in from interesting places.  Arlington, Va. Chesterfield, Mo. Dickinson, N.D. Los Angeles, New York City and Orlando. My favorite: Kingston, Surrey County, Jamaica. Bangor and Madison, Maine, where I could conceivably know people, but no one who would have my cell phone number.

No one left voicemail.

I did consider answering when the call was from a desirable location. Maybe I could say to the person in Jamaica, “Do you have any extra room in your place? Like, in February?”

Just joking.

I suppose I could try to get a new cell phone number. A couple of years ago, our landline was down for about a week. A line to our house had to be replaced. During that time, callers were told our phone was out of service. Once we were back up and running, we noticed we weren’t getting any spam calls. The solicitors and fraudsters had given up on us.

Now…they’re back! The honeymoon is over.

Even scams now affect cell phone users. You probably have heard of the “yes” scheme. The caller asks, “Can you hear me?” and you answer, “Yes.” Your reply is recorded and then used as a confirmation for whatever nefarious money-grabbing plot the fraudster has come up with.

But who thinks not to say “yes” as a precaution when answering the phone and being asked “Can you hear me” or “Is this Liz?”

This is why caller ID is my best friend. I figure that if I miss an important call from somebody in Chicago, the caller will leave a message. If the caller does not leave a message, I will know that I was right not to answer the phone.

I have an Apple watch, which is synced with my iPhone. The other day I was observing a class (I’m a school librarian), when my watch rang. I quickly hit the hang-up icon, and then noticed that the call came from Nashville, Tenn., where I know no one. Thank you for interrupting a middle-school class!

This is why I hesitated to answer when the phone rang recently, as I was about to drive off. I don’t want to listen to tiresome people who want my money. I don’t want to be dragged into any scams. I don’t want to be told I’m responsible for the extensive medical bills racked up by one Blanche Whoitmore.

This time, however, the call was legitimate. It was, indeed, my optometrist’s office, asking me to reschedule an appointment.

But I am prepared for the next time I see a weird phone number on my screen. If I feel like having a little fun, I can answer by saying, “Hello, Sandra from Dubuque. You’re on the air!”