The pharmacy called. He had no idea what she said.

Today's Tip: The Phone Call You Dread

Most people prepare for a hard phone call by rehearsing what they're going to say. That's the wrong end of the call to prepare for.

Let me explain…

The pharmacy left a message on Rudy Halversen's answering machine last Tuesday. His blood pressure medication, the one he'd been taking for six years, was no longer on the plan's list. Effective October first. Please call.

Rudy is 66. He does part-time maintenance for a twelve-unit apartment building in Duluth, Minnesota — plows the walk, fixes the toilets, patches the drywall when a tenant moves out. He's good with his hands, and impatient with paperwork.

He called the pharmacy that afternoon. The person who answered was kind. She was also reading from a script. She said words like "formulary exclusion" and "step therapy" and "prior authorization." Rudy said he understood, hung up, and had no idea what he'd just been told.

He called his daughter that evening. She works in a hospital in Minneapolis and she uses Gemini for almost everything. She said, "Dad, don't call them back yet. Sit down at the computer with me for ten minutes."

They opened gemini.google.com and typed this in.

Gemini gave Rudy a script in about thirty seconds. His opening line: "Hello, this is Rudy Halversen, date of birth May 12th, 1960. I got a call yesterday that my blood pressure prescription is being dropped from my plan on October 1. I want to understand my options before I make any decisions."

Then six questions in order — what exactly is being changed, what replacement drugs are on the covered list, whether his doctor has been notified, what "step therapy" would require him to try first, how to request an exception, and what the deadline is for filing that request.

Then three pushback lines. If they say "the easiest thing is to switch to the covered drug," Rudy says: "I understand. Before I agree to a switch, I need to know what the exception process looks like." If they say "you'll need to talk to your doctor," Rudy says: "I will. First I need to know from you what my plan requires."

And a note-taking template with five fields — name, date, what was said, what I need to do next, and who I need to call after this.

Rudy printed it. He made the call the next morning. Fifteen minutes, one page of notes, one clear next step: his doctor's office had to file an exception request within thirty days.

Now, I know what you're thinking. "This feels like a lot of typing just to make a phone call." I understand. The first time I did this, it felt strange too.

But here is the honest math. A ten-minute prep session saves you a thirty-minute call that leaves you more confused than when you started. And it saves you the second call two days later when you realize you forgot to ask the one thing that mattered. The prep is not extra work… it's the work you were going to do anyway, done before the pressure is on.

The next phone call you are putting off is somewhere in a stack on your kitchen counter — a bill you don't understand, a test result, a message from a contractor, a letter from Social Security. Pick one… try the prompt tonight.

You'll make the call tomorrow with a page of notes in front of you, and it will be over before you expect. That's the whole trick.

★ Quick Wins

Skill Builder: The Draft-and-Critique Loop

Here is a habit that will change what you get out of AI. Never accept the first answer.

The first answer is a draft. It is the AI showing you what it thinks you asked for, based on the little it knows about you. Sometimes it's fine… often it is close, but not right.

And the trick most people miss is that you don't have to start over to fix it. You just have to ask the AI to critique its own first answer.

Here is why this works. AI models are much better at spotting problems in a piece of writing than at avoiding those problems the first time.

Ask them to write a letter, and they'll write a decent letter. Ask them to look at that same letter and list what's weak about it, and they'll find three or four honest problems. Then ask them to rewrite it, fixing what they flagged. The second draft is almost always better than the first.

You can do this on almost anything you'd write with AI — a summary, a birthday message, a complaint letter, a description of your symptoms for the doctor, a list of questions for a contractor. The pattern is always the same… draft, critique, rewrite.

The prompt below is the critique step. You paste it right after the AI gives you its first draft. Save it somewhere you'll find it again.

Try this on anything you plan to send or say — a note to your doctor, a message to your grandchild's teacher, a response to a contractor's bid. Draft, critique, rewrite. Three steps.

It takes an extra minute. It saves you the small regret of sending something that wasn't quite right.