This More Painful Than Whatever You Had Done At Your Appointment
Impossible Demands, Medical Office, Reception, USA | Healthy | August 26, 2021
I am on Medicaid for a short time during college. When leaving the doctor’s office, I ask if there’s anything I owe and they tell me no. A few months later, I receive a bill in the mail from the doctor’s office for $3, along with instructions on how to pay it online. When I go online, the site tells me it won’t accept payments under $10, so I call their office.

Me: “I received a $3 bill from your office but it won’t accept the payment online since it’s under $10. Can I pay over the phone?”

Receptionist: “No, we don’t accept payments under $10 over the phone, either.”

Me: “Can I mail you the money, then, or drop it off during off-hours? My work schedule doesn’t work with your hours of operation.”

Receptionist: “No, it has to be in person.”

Me: “You’re only open from 9:00 am to 5:00 pm. I work from 8:00 am to 5:00 pm and only have a thirty-minute break. My workplace is a thirty-minute drive from your office. Are you really giving me no other option than asking for time off to drive an hours’ worth to pay $3?”

Receptionist: *Long pause* “I’ll waive the fee.”

Allergic To Using Her Brain
Canada, Medical Office, New Brunswick, Patients, Stupid | Healthy | August 24, 2021
I work for an orthopaedic surgeon and the number of patients who don’t know their medications or allergies is staggering! This patient just called in and we’re concerned about an infection after her surgery.

Me: “The doctor wants to get you on a general antibiotic to be safe. Can you tell me if you have any allergies?”

Patient: “I think I have a few, but I’m not sure. I will give you a call back.”

This isn’t a problem, and the patient calls back to give me a list of five or so allergies. The medication that the doctor wanted to give her is a derivative of one of her allergies, so we need to know what happens.

Me: “Can you tell me what happens when you take that antibiotic, please?”

Patient: “I can’t recall anything happening. I don’t think I’m even allergic. Let me ask my husband.”

I wait. The patient’s husband says he doesn’t know, so the patient is going to call a friend and get back to me. This is now the third time we’ve gone over this.

Patient: “I think you can go ahead and send that prescription. I don’t think I’m even allergic to it.”

Me: “So, just to be perfectly clear, you really don’t remember what happened the last time you took this medication?”

Patient: “Well, you know, I think the issue was that my throat started to close up.”

Cue me hitting my head on my desk.

Not Feeling So Good
Australia, Australian Capital Territory, Bizarre, Canberra, Doctor/Physician, Medical Office, Patients | Healthy | August 22, 2021
I went to my doctor for a very minor operation on my hand. He gave me two shots of local anaesthetic and we waited for a few moments for it to work. As soon as the scalpel touched my hand, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Doctor: *Puzzled* “You shouldn’t have felt that. You must be very sensitive. I’ll give you another shot.”

We waited a few minutes again. When the scalpel touched my hand, I jumped again.

Doctor: *Even more puzzled* “You shouldn’t have felt that. I can’t give you any more; it would be a bit risky.”

I just want to get it over and done with.

Me: “It’s not so bad. Go ahead and I’ll try not to react.”

The doctor carefully and successfully finishes the operation.

Doctor: ”Has this ever happened before? It looks like anaesthetics don’t work very well on you.”

Me: “I’ve never had any sort of anaesthetic, full or local, before.”

I drove home, a trip of about an hour. I sat down with a cup of tea, and suddenly, I lost all feeling in my body. Before I could react, I fell asleep. I woke up about three hours later with no apparent after-effects, apart from being worried.

A week later, I saw my doctor for a follow-up and told him what had happened.

Doctor: *Looking very concerned* “I’ve never heard of such a reaction before. It’s a good job it didn’t happen while you were driving home. I think that you had better be very careful about having any sort of anaesthetic in the future. I will put a DANGER note in your medical record.”

I now wear a bright orange “Anaesthetic Risk” medical alert wristband ALL THE TIME!

Sounds Like Someone’s About To Get Sued
Bank, Bizarre, Health & Body, Iowa, Nevada, Non-Dialogue, Office, USA | Healthy | August 19, 2021
I work for a major financial company. I was the manager of the branch in question. I worked long hours there. I was usually there from a few hours before open until significantly after close. I was the first person to arrive in the morning and the last to leave at night. It was exhausting.

We were running on (essentially) a skeleton crew, so I had to be familiar with every position from janitor on out and fill in for anyone who was sick.

We were in a dense commercial block, with small antique shops, restaurants, other financial companies, and even a theatre.

I started getting headaches at work. Some days, they were so bad I threw up in the bathroom before driving home. It seemed that the longer I was at work, the worse I felt.

I started seeing the gas company van parked on the block more and more often. In a local restaurant, while enjoying lunch, I overheard that all of the commercial spaces near ours were complaining about gas smell.

One day, one of our clients complained of a gas smell in our branch. I didn’t smell anything. None of my coworkers smelled anything. But the guidance was clear on what to do; we called the gas company and reported that there was a gas smell.

We were told to leave the building, so we did dutifully, complaining the whole way. The gas company showed up with their tester. As he brought the tester device near my office, it started clicking. It started clicking really fast. The gas company guy turned to us, quite pale, and asked how we hadn’t exploded yet.

They evacuated us a few more blocks away. I remember a fire company person asking me if I was dizzy or nauseous. I was, but it was normal for me, so I was confused and didn’t know how to answer. I wish to this day I had answered, because my spouse had apparently noticed that I was mentally deteriorating the whole time, and even now, five years later, I’m noticeably slower and less mentally capable than I once was.

After they aired out the first floor with large vans that had large fans, I was brought back into the office to unlock the door to the basement, where the gas concentration was strongest. By now, I’d sent all my coworkers home with a promised full day’s pay.

I unlocked the door a bit nervously and was hustled away from it again while they went into the basement.

Earlier that year, in January, we’d gotten a new furnace. It turned out that they hadn’t joined the unions correctly and the furnace was leaking out gas at a prodigious rate. What actually saved us from an explosion was that there was very little oxygen down there, mostly just gas and carbon monoxide.

The basements of all of the commercial buildings on the block were separated by old crumbling brickwork, so the gas from my office was leaking into the neighboring commercial buildings, too. They all had to be aired out. All of the gas problems on the block were the fault of my faulty furnace.

And I was the one who’d suffered the most exposure to it, as we kept our secure documents in the basement, and I was the only one with the key, going down there every day, multiple times a day to retrieve or return documents.

I still work for the company, but in a different district far away. I still don’t know how to get compensation for any harm I may have suffered in those working conditions.

That’ll Put A Cramp In Your Theory
Colorado, Coworkers, Health & Body, Instant Karma, Jerk, Office, USA | Healthy | August 16, 2021
I am at work and start getting cramps. I have endometriosis so I need to get painkillers in my system before my period starts or I become incapacitated from the pain. I forgot to refill the container I bring to work, so I don’t have any pain relief on me.

Me: “Hey, [Coworker], do you have any Tylenol? Or any other pain killers?”

Coworker: “No, I don’t take any medication. If you’re needing something like that, it means you have some deficiency, and your body’s telling you need to get more vitamins or water.”

Me: *Long pause* “Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to help my chronic illness. I have endometriosis.”

Thankfully, she actually apologized for making assumptions and offered to ask others if they had any for me.

For The Record, This Is RIDICULOUS
California, Jerk, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, Nurses, Reception, USA | Healthy | August 10, 2021
I need the medical history of my vaccinations for education reasons. For a variety of other reasons, I do not have access to this yellow card that already has my history, so I call my doctor’s office.

Me: “Hi, my name is [My Name]. I’m a patient of [Doctor]. I’m just calling to ask if I could get a copy of my vaccination history.”

Receptionist #1 : “Your what?”

Me: “Oh, uh, my medical history?”

Receptionist #1 : “Why do you need that?”

Me: “I began going to university and I need that information to prove I’ve been vaccinated. Can you guys possibly email it, or do I have to come down?”

Receptionist #1 : “Uhhh, hold on.”

Eight minutes later:

Receptionist #1 : “Do you have a fax machine?”

Me: “Unfortunately, no.”

Receptionist #1 : “Then you have to come down to the office. It should be a quick visit.”

I make the appointment and go to their office. My mom and I already visited within the last few weeks. It was the start of a new year and insurance updating was already done. My mom got a misprint of her insurance card and went through a big hassle of getting their office to understand that the number on her card was right but the doctor’s name was wrong. I’m under her insurance as a dependent. After this confusion and debacle, the insurance company didn’t want to give my mom more than one properly fixed card, so she gave me the misprint.

I get to the office and they give me the usual forms to fill out and then ask for the card. I’m dealing with the person who I KNOW my mom dealt with last time, because he’s the only male receptionist among the other three women.

Me: “Just a reminder, the info on that card is inaccurate. The doctor’s name is [Doctor] but the number is right.”

Receptionist #2 : “Uh-huh.”

Approximately ten minutes later:

Receptionist #2 : “Miss! Your information is wrong!”

Me: “Yes, I know. I told you that already. It’s [proper information].”

He only looks from me to the card without even glancing at the computer.

Receptionist #2 : “No, I don’t think so. This is wrong. Do you have another card?”

Me: “No, I do not. Is it possible for you to just pull up my file or my mom’s?”

Receptionist #2 : “No. That’ll be $45 for today’s visit.”

Me: “What? I’m here to ask for my own medical history. Why is it so high?”

Receptionist #2 : “Because you don’t have insurance.”

I was literally in this office a few weeks ago.

Me: “You know what? Can you please just pull up my mom’s file? Her name is [Mom]. We have the same insurance information and hers is the correct one; it’s the same number.”

The receptionist makes a weird face at me and then flicks his hand in an indication for me to go sit down.

About fifteen minutes later:

Receptionist #2 : “Okay, fine. Your copay is just $15 dollars.”

I pay it and then go sit down to wait. Twenty minutes pass. I’m finally called in and they insist I be weighed. Disclaimer, I’m fat, and my weight hasn’t been under 180 pounds for years, and this office uses the old fashioned scale that has a weight and a balance slidey thing. As I’m being weighed, the nurse, who I’ve also seen for years, starts off on 160 before slowly moving the slider higher. Every time she does, she goes, “Oh, wow,” over and over again until we get to my actual weight. She then refuses to measure my height, despite that being the usual thing I’ve done for the last fifteen-plus years coming to this office.

I’m finally taken to a room and told to wait for the doctor. Ten or fifteen minutes later, someone finally comes in.

Nurse: “So, you’re here today to get your vaccine shots?”

Me: “What? No. I’m here for my vaccination history.”

Nurse: “Huh? Why didn’t you just call us?”

Me: “I did. You guys told me that because I don’t have a fax machine that I had to come down.”

The nurse looks back and forth from her chart to me before eyeing me suspiciously.

Nurse: “And what do you need this information for?”

Me: “I got into university and they want my vaccine history.”

Nurse: “Oooookay… Wait here.”

She leaves and I wait another ten minutes or so before she returns.

Nurse: “Can you email us the form you have to fill out?”

Me: “Uhh, it’s not a proper form? I just log into the school’s website, and on my profile, it gives me a prompt to fill it out. I took pictures of all the questions on my phone here.”

I show her the pictures.

Nurse: “Hmm… Are you sure there’s no other form?”

Me: “Absolutely.”

This time, she doesn’t say anything before she leaves the room and then comes back a few minutes later.

Nurse: “Okay, can you email us these pictures?”

I get that done and wait another ten minutes.

Nurse: “All right, so do you have the yellow card?”

Me: “No, I don’t have access to it.”

Nurse: “What?!”

I’m surprised at the suddenly loud and very shocked tone of her voice. She’s been monotone and suspicious this whole time.

Me: “I don’t have access to it. Things are complicated at home and I don’t have access to it.”

Nurse: “Well, can’t you just… ask for it?”

Me: “No, I can’t. That’s why I’m here: because I already tried my other options.”

Nurse: “All right, well, that yellow card has your medical history on it that you need. Unless you have that card, we can’t let you see your file.”

Me: “You— Wait, what? I’m asking for my history, and you’re telling me you can’t give me my own history… unless I have my history.”

Nurse: “Yes, because you need that card.”

Me: “I. Don’t. Have. It. That’s why I’m here to ask you guys — my doctor’s office — for my history.”

Nurse: “We can’t do that.”

Me: “Well, if I can’t see it, then can you at least just tell me the information that I need? I sent you the pictures.”

Nurse: “Hmmm, no, I don’t think so. Well, thank you for visiting.”

She gestures for me to leave the room.

Me: “No. Absolutely not. You guys tried to make me pay a ridiculous amount for copay I’ve never paid before, you guys did make me pay for copay anyway, and you are trying to turn me away without helping me. I haven’t even seen the doctor yet. I’m not leaving until I see the doctor.”

The nurse suddenly looks panicked and tells me to wait longer before leaving. It’s about another ten or fifteen minutes before the doctor actually shows up.

He basically sits in the office with me, holding my file, while I show and ask him the questions necessary and he tells me the dates. I’m still not allowed to see or hold my file. It comes to light there’s a vaccine shot that I actually need a renewal of, so that can also be done to get out of the way. He thanks me for coming into the office and tells me a nurse will help me with the vaccine.

Surprisingly, it doesn’t take long for her to show up, and it’s the same nurse I’ve been dealing with this whole time. The shot gets done and over with rather quickly, and then she just leaves the room. She hasn’t uttered a single word to me the whole time. I sit there a bit confused, waiting for further instructions. The nurse then pops her head through the doorway.

Nurse: “Ummm, you can leave now, y’know.”

I was honestly a bit more surprised at the sudden attitude change than I was angry. When I got to the car, the surprised feeling was gone and I was definitely more than dissatisfied with the supposed “quick visit” that lasted from 9:30 am to 11:50 am.

Can’t Let The Cat Out Of The Bag With No Cat
Stupid, UK, Vet | Healthy | August 8, 2021
I am a veterinary surgeon in the middle of a very busy consulting session. I call my next appointment in — booked as “coughing” — and a man comes into my consulting room with no pet.

Me: “Where is your cat?”

Client: “Oh, she hates travelling, so I left her at home. I thought we could just discuss what to do.”

Me: “I can’t examine, diagnose, or treat a problem without actually seeing [Cat].”

Client: “So, I need to bring her, then?”

Me: “Yes.”

Client: “…”

Me: “…”

Client: “Shall I just go, then?”

Me: “Yes, please rebook for another time and bring her with you next time.”

He left. I mean… who deliberately doesn’t bring their pet for a veterinary appointment?

That’s One Ballsy Programmer
Coworkers, Funny, Health & Body, Maryland, Office, USA | Healthy | August 6, 2021
I’m a programmer and work in a room with a half dozen others. We often resort to good-natured teasing and complaining about each other, but I’m confident everyone knows it is in jest.

One of our coworkers has been making plans to be out in a few days for some surgery.

Me: “What is the surgery for, if you’re comfortable sharing?”

Coworker: “Oh, I’m an open book. I’m willing to share, but the real question is, do you really want to know? You can’t complain about it being too much information if you ask.”

Me: “Come on, tell us.”

Coworker: “Okay, you know how if someone does something really impressive, people will always say something like, ‘That guy has to have some huge cojones to do that.’?”

Me: “Yeah…?”

Coworker: “Well, it turns out that huge cojones aren’t as convenient as everyone made them out to be, and I’m apparently too awesome for my own good.”

He eventually goes on to explain that he has a hydrocele, which is some sort of liquid buildup on the outside of the testicle, making it grow larger until it gets in the way.

The day of his surgery, he is the only one not on vacation that can support some servers, so he comes in for two hours to check on the servers and have some sort of meeting before leaving for the surgery. When the time comes to leave, he has this to say.

Coworker: “Okay, folks. I hope none of you take this the wrong way, but I just realized I’d rather go get my balls chopped off than spend another moment here with all of you. See you on Monday.”

Doctors Don’t Know Everything
Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Italy, Lazy/Unhelpful | Healthy | August 4, 2021
A routine blood test shows that my levels of TSH — thyroid-stimulating hormone — are high, 4.2 mg/l. Basically, it means that my thyroid isn’t working properly: the normal value ought to be under 4.5. I start seeing an endocrinologist. At 5…

Endocrinologist: “Yes, yes. Nothing to worry about. Let’s just keep it monitored. See you next year.”

Next year, at 6…

Endocrinologist: “Well, well. There’s clearly something going on here, but I’d rather not start medicating as you’re still young. See you next year.”

Next year, at 8…

Endocrinologist: “I don’t like the look of this. If it keeps rising, we’ll have to put you on something. See you next year.”

I get in the family way, and eight months into my pregnancy, I’m examined by an obstetric, an old guard doctor with the manners of a constipated bear. He takes a look at my blood tests.

Obstetric: “Just what are you waiting for before you do something for that thyroid, lady? Your TSH is through the roof!”

Thyroid medication, of course, is prescription-only. I would have so liked to give him my endocrinologist’s number and watch the discussion

There Is No Joy In Mudville
Bad Behavior, Children, Health & Body, Non-Dialogue, Sporting Event, USA, Wisconsin | Healthy | August 2, 2021
I have been playing baseball since I was about eight years old and this story takes place when I am eleven, in 1991.

There are a couple of league rules for our age group and the most important one is no cleating. For anyone unaware, this means that when you slide into base, you are not allowed to put your foot in the air with the spikes/cleats on the bottom of your shoe into the person guarding the base. You have to keep your feet down when sliding. Anyone that cleats will be kicked out of the game and suspended for other games or kicked from the league, depending on the infraction.

The season has just started, we’re only a few games in, and everyone is having fun. Today is the day my mom is volunteering at the concession stand, so she’s not down by the field watching my game. She can see us playing from where she’s at, but she can’t pay attention to all of the game since she’s helping people. My dad is working; he can’t be at the game at the start and will be around about halfway through.

The game is still pretty early, just starting the third inning. I’m put in to replace the pitcher. I take over the mound and there is a runner on third. The runner is the biggest kid in our league. He’s in sixth grade, but he’s already a good foot taller than most of us and weighs a good sixty pounds more than most of us, too.

I strike out the first batter I go up against. Two more outs to end this inning.

The next batter hits a pop fly out to shallow right-center field. The outfielder comes in and makes the catch, and the runner on third tags up on the base and starts to run to home plate, but he holds up as the outfielder throws the ball to the catcher. Unfortunately, the throw from the outfielder is wide and the ball goes behind the catcher and rolls to the backstop. My job now is to help cover home plate. The catcher runs back to the ball, turns, and tosses to me. Because the throw to home plate was bad, the runner on third runs home in an attempt to score.

I’m now straddling the side of home plate, waiting for the ball to come to me so I can attempt to tag the runner out. I catch the ball and swing my glove down to make the tag, but the runner slides into home and cleats me. He ends up cleating my left arm, kicking my arm out of the way, and forcing me to drop the ball. At the time, it doesn’t hurt, and I turn around to take a few steps to where the ball landed. I go to scoop the ball off the ground with my glove, and when I try to turn my arm, that’s when the pain strikes me. I drop to the ground in agony, clenching my left arm.

One of the other parents runs up to the concession stand and gets my mom. She comes over with a bag of ice and we end up leaving for the ER to get x-rays.

About thirty minutes after my mom and I leave, my dad shows up and he sits in the bleachers and starts watching the game. After about fifteen minutes, he notices that he doesn’t see me on the field and asks one of the moms sitting near him where I am. The lady tells him what happened and that I left to go to the ER.

My dad looks at the lady, with a deadpan face, and asks, “Did he make the out?”

The lady is so upset with my dad’s lack of concern — because she doesn’t understand that he’s joking — that she punches him in the arm, actually leaving a bruise, and tells him he should be ashamed of himself. My dad tries to tell her he was joking, but she wants nothing more to do with him.

The kid that cleated me broke my arm, and he is never kicked out of the game or suspended for cleating. In fact, he never receives any kind of disciplinary action against him… probably because he is the kid of one of the coaches. The kid develops a bad habit of cleating others until someone gets tired of it and cleats the kid back.

X-rays show a fractured ulna, and because some strain is put on the ulna when you twist your forearm, I can’t just have a short cast put on. I have to have a full arm cast — from my hand to my bicep — for six weeks.

I spend the summer being unable to do most things — playing ball, hitting up the pool with friends, and wrestling. The upside is that my mom feels so bad for me that she takes my younger brother and me to an amusement park. I can ride some of the roller coasters, and as we stand in line for a ride, one of the employees sees me and asks why I am waiting in line and not using the accessible entrance. He says I should be using that entrance and gives us a pass to use them. We get to bypass the long lines and I have a blast that day.

Some People Shouldn’t Be Nurses
Bad Behavior, Medical Office, Nurses, Ohio, USA | Healthy | July 30, 2021
I am newly eighteen, so at my doctor’s office, I have to fill out new paperwork — confidentiality and whatever they make you do. I’m a short, very light-skinned girl with bright blonde hair which is naturally dark brown but I dye it. My mother is from Cuba and her father is from Spain, so I am 50% Latina and Hispanic. I definitely don’t look it, which isn’t normally a problem. It’s more like a fun trivia tidbit about me.

On one of the papers I am filling out, it asks if I am Hispanic/Latina. I check yes, because I am. I give the nurse the paperwork and wait in the room for a doctor. I can hear some nurses outside the door in the office area talking rather loudly.

Nurse #1 : “She’s got blonde hair and blue eyes — perfect Aryan. I think she checked the wrong box.”

Nurse #2 : “Change it for her. Obviously, she got it wrong.”

Nurse #1 : “Maybe she’s trying to scam us. One of those people begging to be oppressed.”

For the record, I have deep brown eyes, not blue. But I’m very upset about the conversation I’m hearing. My ethnicity is not for them to decide or discuss, and my patient records are supposed to be confidential, not talked about in front of or to anyone.

The nurse comes back in and hands me the clipboard.

Nurse #1 : “I think you marked that wrong — the Hispanic/Latina question.”

Me: “Uh, I am both Hispanic and Latina. I’m Cuban and Spanish.”

Nurse #1 : “Are you sure?”

Me: “Are you sure you should be gossiping about your patients’ medical files to other nurses and whoever else can hear right in front of the door?”

She left without another word. I’ve considered switching from that office for a while, but I don’t go enough for it to be a huge problem. I’m still bothered by this incident, though.

One Wild Ride
Home, Hospital, Patients, Siblings, Texas, USA | Healthy | July 26, 2021
The summer before my brother starts college, we go to an amusement park. He drags me on a bunch of terrible rides and a fun time is had by all. A few days later, however…

Brother: “My stomach hurts.”

Mom: “Where? How bad is it?”

Brother: “It’s not bad, just kind of sore right here.”

He gestures vaguely to the middle of his stomach, so my mom dismisses his appendix.

Mom: “It’s probably bruised from the bars on the [ride]. It’s what you get for dragging your sister on it and flipping it over.”

Over the course of a week, the pain doesn’t subside, but my brother hasn’t mentioned it getting worse or anything like that. My mom lets it go for the moment but decides to take him to the doctor if it doesn’t get better by next week. Come the weekend, I find him lying down on the floor of his room.

Me: “[Brother], are you okay?”

Brother: “No, my stomach really hurts. I just took another Hydrocodone, and it still hurts.”

The Hydrocodone was for his oral surgery he’d had earlier in the year. That surgery bothered him so little he never ended up taking the pills and just left them in the medicine cabinet.

Me: “Don’t worry. I’ll get Mom and we’ll take you to the doctor, okay?”

I got to my mom’s room.

Me: “Mom, we need to take [Brother] to the doctor. His stomach hurts and he took another Hydrocodone.”

Mom: “He did what?”

She rushed out, collected my brother, and drove us to the emergency room. It turns out it was his appendix. It had actually ruptured partially, though thankfully his body had walled it off. He had to go in for emergency surgery. My parents were pissed he let himself suffer so much before getting help. He recovered fine and was more upset that he had a weight limit for his first two weeks at college.

Diagnosis: Unnecessary Anguish
Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Medical Office, Texas, USA | Healthy | July 24, 2021
In 2016, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. Due to the cancer being estrogen-related, she opted out of chemotherapy and decided that the mastectomy and pills would be enough. I supported her 100% and even argued against doctors and my father when they tried to pressure her.

Two years later, her thyroid started acting up. She went in for multiple biopsies. While we waited for results, I started Googling if the breast cancer could have metastasized into her thyroid. A week went by, and she went to her regular doctor and was told that the results were cancer. We got a nice report that said whatever they found was malignant.

We were devastated, and I blamed myself for not pushing chemo on my mom. We got the results Wednesday and had to wait until Monday to see her cancer doctor. It was a bad week. The day of the appointment, I tagged along with my mom and dad so I could be kept informed. The doctor walked into the office smiling.

Doctor: “How are we doing today?”

Mom: “I don’t know, you tell me. Do you know what stage it is? Has it spread?”

Doctor: “Cancer?”

Mom: “In the thyroid?”

Doctor: “You don’t have cancer.”

Mom: “What? They told me it was cancer.”

That was apparently shocking enough that the doctor left the room to go talk with the other doctors who did the biopsy.

Doctor: “Well, I mean it’s not not cancer. We don’t know exactly what’s wrong. It needs to come out for sure, but it’s probably not cancer, and if it was, it’d be stage zero and not dangerous.”

I sat in silence while the doctor hashed out treatment and surgery options with my parents. I felt relieved but also annoyed and confused.

Me: “I read the report, though. Why’d they put ‘malignant’ if they didn’t know?”

Doctor: “Oh, well, sometimes they just need to put something on the report.”

It wasn’t cancer, by the way. The thyroid was two times bigger and three times heavier than it should have been and covered in nodes, but my mom made a full recovery and is healthy.

Cat Poop: It’s What’s For Dinner
Funny, Houston, Revolting, Texas, USA, Vet, Wordplay | Healthy | July 22, 2021
My cat’s name is Dinner; my boyfriend, who is Vietnamese American, named him. He hasn’t been feeling well (the cat), and the vet told me to bring in a fecal sample.

They are still doing business by car, so when I pull up and the vet tech comes out, I hand over the bag of poop.

Me: “This is for Dinner.”

Vet Tech: *Stammering* “Thank you?”

Then, I come to my senses.

Me: *Laughing* “It’s a sample from my cat, Dinner. The vet needs it.”

She was so professional and so polite, in spite of her “WTF” face.

Sometimes You Have To Go Off-Script
Australia, Current Events, Health & Body, Patients, Pharmacy, Retail | Healthy | July 20, 2021
I work in a pharmacy, so you can imagine that we get more than our fair share of sick, coughing people. Unfortunately, that also means that we get more than our fair share of people who insist they cannot wear a mask. While corporate has refused to allow us to use curbside service, my management HAS been very good at backing us up and insisting we can refuse service to people that don’t comply.

Customer: “Hi, I just need this script filled.”

Me: “Sorry, ma’am, can you please put on your mask?”

Customer: “No, I have a medical exemption.”

Me: “I’m afraid that I am going to have to insist.”

Customer: “I cannot wear a mask.”

Me: “Ma’am, we will refuse service to anyone who isn’t wearing a mask. Many of our customers are high-risk.”

At this, she lifts her script to press it flat against the plastic of the barrier between us.

Customer: “The sooner you give me these, the sooner I can leave and start taking them so that I can wear a mask. But I need this script first.”

I am about to keep arguing, but then I realise what the medication on the script is. It’s a strong prescription painkiller, used for nerve disease and shingles and its complications.

I then look at the woman’s face again, and I realise the redness on her cheeks and jaw are not embarrassment or just a ruddy complexion but inflammation.

Me: “Sorry, ma’am. I’ll… get right on that.”

Could she have been clearer? Given the particular painkiller, probably not.

Crown This Lady “Worst Patient Of The Day”
Bad Behavior, Dentist, Instant Karma, Patients, Reddit | Healthy | CREDIT: EWhiskeyM | July 13, 2021
I’m a dental assistant for a private practice. Most of our patients are wonderful people — friendly, happy to see us, respectful of our professional opinions and recommendations, etc. But today, I had the most entitled jerk in for what should have been a simple appointment.

When we do crowns — or caps, as some people know them as — we prep the tooth beforehand and take an impression. Then, that impression goes to a lab and the techs there make the crown. It takes two or three weeks for them to send the crown back.

When we deliver the crown to the patient, the doctor and I try the crown in first to see how it fits. It is VERY rare that it fits perfectly. We almost always have to make some adjustments — shaving down the crown here and there, checking the space between the teeth, checking the bite, etc. All of this is standard. The main thing we use is called “articulating paper”. When the patient bites down on it, we can see heavy blue markings where the bite needs adjusting. The more we adjust, the lighter those marks get, and it even stops marking altogether sometimes.

Most exchanges with the patient are like this.

Us: “How’s it feel?”

Patient: “It’s a little high.”

Us: “Okay, we’ll adjust that.”

We use the articulating paper and then grind the crown down a little.

Us: “How’s it feel now?”

Patient: “Oh, that feels much better.”

Us: “Okay, cool. Let’s cement it in.”

This takes maybe five minutes AT MOST. This lady we had tonight was having none of it.

Us: “How’s it feel?”

Lady: “Ugh, it’s way off.”

Us: “Okay, we’ll adjust it. How’s it feel now?”

Lady: “The same.”

Us: “Umm, really? No change?”

Lady: “The same.”

Us: “Okay, no biggie. Let’s adjust more.”

Over and over, she kept insisting that it was exactly the same, no change, even though the marks were gone at this point, meaning that her other teeth were no longer even touching the crown.

At this point, we had a couple of options that the doctor presented to her.

Doctor: “I can keep adjusting the crown. The only issue is that if I keep reducing the porcelain on top, the metal underneath might end up showing. Are you okay with that?”

Lady: “No.”

Doctor: “Okay. Well then, I need to make a small adjustment to the tooth above this one so that they don’t touch. It’s very superficial.”

Lady: “No! Don’t touch my other teeth!”

Doctor: “We do this all the time, ma’am. It doesn’t harm the teeth. We’re basically just polishing it.”

Lady: “No! That’s a lie! If you guys did it correctly the first time, you wouldn’t have to adjust it at all!”

Doctor: “Ma’am, we do this for everyone. The lab almost never makes them perfect. We either have to adjust the crown itself or the opposing teeth.”

Lady: “No, you screwed up.”

Doctor: “We have to adjust one or the other, so which would you prefer? Do you want metal showing?”

Lady: “No!”

Me: “So we can polish the opposing tooth?”

Lady: “No!”

Me: “It’ll literally take a few seconds.”

Lady: “No, you’re lying! It’s gonna harm my teeth!”

The doctor suggests getting our office manager to talk to the patient. Our office manager is an awesome lady. She’s old — two years away from retirement — and doesn’t give a f*** anymore. I tell her the situation and she laughs.

Office Manager: “Okay, let’s make her wait another month. I don’t give a s***.”

I laugh as she marches right in there.

Office Manager: “Okay, ma’am. Since you don’t want this crown, we’ll send it back to the lab and have them redo it.”

So, instead of just waiting the sixty seconds for us to adjust, she now had to wait three weeks to come in again. And that was just to RE-PREP the tooth. Then, she had to wait another three weeks for the crown to come back from the lab, again.

She had every right to request that the crown be redone. That’s not my issue. My issue is that she accused us of lying, screamed at us, wouldn’t tell us why it felt “exactly the same,” and didn’t want any solutions we offered.

This All Sounds Totally Normal
Doctor/Physician, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, Pennsylvania, Pittsburgh, USA | Healthy | July 9, 2021
I’ve had some worrying symptoms, so I go to see a new doctor for the first time. I recently lost my insurance and then the health crisis hit, so I haven’t had a primary care provider in some time. As suspected, the doctor orders some bloodwork.

Me: “Will this require me to fast? Because if I don’t, fair warning, my liver enzymes will be high.”

Doctor: “What do you mean?”

Me: “Any time I take a blood test and I’m not required to fast, my liver enzymes are always reported as abnormally high.”

Doctor: “And your previous doctor never bothered to try and figure out why that is?”

Me: “No, they would just order another test, have me fast, and then go, ‘You’re normal.’”

The doctor rolls her eyes in annoyance at this.

Doctor: “Okay, but… why wouldn’t they check that?” *Sighs* “Don’t fast for this one, but I’m going to have to have that checked out… like somebody should have a while ago.”

Soccer Is Always Bloodiest When Parents Get Involved
Bad Behavior, Health & Body, Parents/Guardians, Reddit, Sporting Event | Healthy | CREDIT: xylophoneplayer88 | July 8, 2021
When I am about eleven or twelve years old, I play for a local girls’ football/soccer team as the goalie. We play on a field not far from my house for home games.

We go up against another local team in the county tournament. This team has a girl on it whose mother is a known problem. She’ll scream if her daughter is so much as touched and has been known to be threatening to both parents and players. [Girl] is lovely, and we actually know each other from school. There is a friendly sort of rivalry between us.

About halfway through the first half, [Girl] comes at the goal and we end up both going for the ball at the same time. Her foot connects hard with my ankle and I immediately know it is broken. [Girl] apparently heard the break, and helps me to the ground, yelling for help. When I look down, my foot is at a very strange angle.

Both coaches help me off the pitch, [Girl] beside me holding my hand, both of us crying. Other players are gathering round, but the coaches tell them to step back and give me some space. My parents appear and sit with me while my team’s coach calls for an ambulance.

[Girl]’s mum appears. I hear her before I see her.

Girl’s Mum: “What’s going on? [Girl], get back on the field.”

Girl: “Mum, I broke [My Name]’s ankle. I want to stay with her. I’ll be red-carded, anyway.”

Usually, if there’s a foul you get a yellow card, and two yellow cards cause you to be red-carded and sent off. However, if a foul is particularly bad or causes serious injury, you’re red-carded straight away.

Girl’s Mum: “Red-carded?! Why, because she didn’t get out of the way in time?”

My Mum: “No, because it happened. I don’t think [Girl] meant for it to happen, but it still did.”

Girl’s Mum: “Well, I think your daughter did this on purpose to make [Girl] look bad. I bet she’s faking it.”

I’m still crying and in too much pain for patience.

Me: “If you think I can make my ankle bend like that myself, then you’re stupid.”

Girl’s Mum: “How dare you?!” *Turns to the coach* “I want the police here, too, for defamation of my daughter’s character.”

The referee comes over to check how I am and to let [Girl] know that, as she thought, she’s red-carded. [Girl] doesn’t seem to care, but her mother explodes.

Girl’s Mum: “You can’t red-card my daughter. Red-card that little b****. In fact, ban her from the game! She’s putting it on on purpose. Look!”

She kicks my ankle. It’s not hard, but it still causes me agony because of the break. I scream, and my mum jumps up to take the woman on. The other team’s coach has to get between them to stop a fight.

An ambulance shows up during this, and the paramedics come to help me. They manage to get both [Girl] and me laughing and help to secure my ankle so as not to cause more injury. My dad tells them about what [Girl]’s mum did, and one of the paramedics shakes her head.

Paramedic: “You can’t help stupid, I guess.”

The police also showed up while I was being sorted out. I didn’t see this part but was told about it by other players later. [Girl]’s mum started yelling that my mum and I should be arrested for defamation. However, after the police were told by several witnesses what had happened, [Girl]’s mum was arrested for assault.

I was taken to the hospital in the ambulance, my mum riding with me and my dad driving the family car. It turned out that I had a break in two places in my ankle. I have a strong suspicion that one of the breaks was the result of [Girl]’s mum’s kick, though that couldn’t be proven.

I had to wear a cast for six weeks and missed a week of school. [Girl] and other members of both teams came to visit me at home in the following days.

[Girl]’s mother was cautioned and released but was issued with a lifetime touchline ban by the team’s coach. She apparently tried to show up at a couple of games, but other parents made her leave again. Thankfully, [Girl] is still lovely, and we remain friends to this day.

A Very Patient Patient
Doctor/Physician, Lazy/Unhelpful, Psychiatrist, USA, Virginia | Healthy | July 7, 2021
I’ve just begun seeing this psychiatrist for treatment for ADD after having been diagnosed by a different doctor who, unfortunately, was too far away for me to see him regularly.

First, I go over history, habits, etc. with her.

Me: “I’ve read that [Drug #1 ] is more commonly used to treat this, but [Drug #2 ] has less anxiety-inducing side effects, and I think that that might be the better choice for me—”

Doctor #1 : “Oh, no, you don’t want to take either of those. They can both be addictive, but [Drug #3 ] works just as well and doesn’t have nearly so many terrible side effects.”

Me: “Oh, all right! That sounds a lot better. Let’s try that!”

She then goes over what she says are all the potential side effects I need to worry about and writes me a prescription. Two weeks later, I return for my first follow-up.

Doctor #1 : “So, how do you like them?”

Me: “I don’t know. They make me sick to my stomach. Most days, I throw up for the first time pretty soon after taking them, even if I’m sure to do it with food and without anything else that might upset my stomach, so I don’t think they’re actually being properly absorbed, and then I’m sick throughout the day. When I can keep them down, I still get very nauseous. I’m having headaches and feeling really tired.”

Doctor #1 : “That’s normal while you’re starting the medication. You just need to keep taking it; your body will adjust.”

Me: “Even though I’m throwing it up almost every day?”

Doctor #1 : “Yes, it’s still getting into your system. You’ll see.”

Me: “And the headaches and tiredness?”

Doctor #1 : “The headaches will go away, and tiredness isn’t a side effect of this drug. You need to make sure you’re maintaining a good sleep schedule; that way, you’ll be able to separate your regular feelings from the medication. Just stick with it.”

Two weeks after that, I go back again.

Me: “I haven’t been getting sick quite as much, but the headaches and drowsiness are really bad, even on days when I’m getting eight hours. Also, does this medication react with alcohol at all? Because I was at a party and I had a drink, and I started feeling way too intoxicated for just having had one drink.”

Doctor #1 : “What? You must never drink while you’re taking this medication! You shouldn’t drink at all — it’s so bad for you — but if you drink while you’re on this medication, it will kill you!”

Me: “I told you in the intake interview that I drank occasionally. Why didn’t you warn me?”

Doctor #1 : “You shouldn’t drink at all! It’s terrible for you! You’re so lucky nothing else happened to you!”

So, I give up drinking. At her insistence, I keep taking the medication, in part because she’s told me that she won’t prescribe me anything else, despite me requesting that she change it multiple times. I assume that since she’s a doctor, she must know better than I do, even though the side effects still remain and I haven’t noticed many changes in my symptoms.

After ten months, I start seeing a psychotherapist for different reasons, and when she hears about what’s been going on, she insists that I take her referral to a different psychiatrist.

Doctor #2 : “So, you’ve been taking [Drug #3 ] for eight months? Have you noticed your symptoms improving?”

Me: “A little, I guess. I think it’s hard to tell because I’ve been so tired lately. I know that that’s not supposed to be a side effect for [Drug #3 ], but I’ve been making sure I get enough sleep and it’s still a problem.”

Doctor #2 : “You noticed you were becoming tired after you started [Drug #3 ]? You know, just because something isn’t one of the listed side effects, it doesn’t mean it can’t possibly happen. So that’s made it hard for you to tell if your symptoms are improving?”

I’m encouraged that he hasn’t just dismissed me.

Me: “Yes, definitely. And the headaches. They’ve been so bad that I can’t focus at all sometimes.”

Doctor #2 : *Taking notes* “Are those all the side effects you’ve noticed?”

Me: “Well, it doesn’t happen as frequently now, but probably once a week I’ll end up throwing up from the meds.”

Doctor #2 : “Once a week isn’t frequent?”

Me: “It used to be almost every day. My old doctor said it was just my body adjusting to the medication.”

Doctor #2 : “How long did that go on?”

Me: “The first few months? When I first started, I’d be sick throughout the day, but after a while, it would just happen right after I took the pills. Now, though, I’m usually just nauseous for a while, but sometimes that gets so bad that I need to lie down.”

Doctor #2 : “So, we’ve got drowsiness, nausea, and headaches. Anything else?”

Me: “No. The only other weird reaction was when I drank, which I found out I wasn’t supposed to do.”

Doctor #2 : “Not supposed to drink?”

Me: “Yeah, my other doctor told me afterward about how it can be deadly, so losing some of my equilibrium seems like a fair trade-off since that’s the only bad thing that happened.”

Doctor #2 : “There are warnings about drinking on [Drug #3 ] because it can increase the effects of alcohol on your system, but the only life-threatening concerns are for binge drinkers, because [Drug #3 ] could exacerbate liver damage. Your doctor told you drinking on [Drug #3 ] was prohibited?”

Me: “She basically told me that it would be fatal.”

Doctor #2 : “All right. Well, first of all, that’s not true. Second, since you’re having such bad side effects from [Drug #3 ] and you haven’t noticed much improvement, I’d recommend switching medications, all right?”

He ended up prescribing me [Drug #2 ], the same drug that I requested from my first doctor during our first appointment. It’s been a month, and all the drowsiness, nausea, and headaches are gone, along with a lot of my initial symptoms. Let this be a warning: if your doctor refuses to work with you to find an acceptable course of treatment and you have any other options at all, explore them! An MD doesn’t always mean that the doctor knows best.

Someone Owes You Another Massage
Jerk, Medical Office, Ontario, Reception, Toronto | Healthy | July 5, 2021
A few years ago, I had my annual physical done, including all sorts of samples to be handed in. The next day, I went to my massage therapist and had extensive work done on my shoulders, neck, and back. Feeling much more relaxed, I went outside and found a voicemail on my phone.

Voicemail: “This is the receptionist from [Doctor] calling. He says he’s gotten your test results in and wants you to come in as soon as you can.”

Instantly fearing the worst, and undoing the stress-relief from my massage, I manage to book an appointment for that same afternoon.

Doctor: “It’s nothing major; your fluid levels are just a little low. I want you to drink more water and it should correct itself.”

Thanks, receptionist. And yes, drinking more water did help.

Do You Know What “Volunteer” Means?
Canada, Jerk, Manitoba, Medical Office, Money, Volunteer, Winnipeg | Healthy | July 3, 2021
I used to take part in clinical trials for a little extra cash. The trials were easy; they usually involved visiting the clinic for about an hour a day over a week, testing different lotions on our legs to see how well they moisturized. Everyone who participated had to fill out a form at the very beginning. Apart from the usual disclaimers, it said that we were volunteers and we would be paid a certain amount of money for our time. As far as I was concerned, I was being paid grocery money to do next to nothing, and I was glad for the opportunity.

One day, about halfway through the trial, one of the other participants suddenly spoke up.

Participant: *Loudly* “You know what I just realized? We’re only being paid [total] for [time] hours. That’s not even minimum wage!”

She looked around the room with a self-satisfied expression, obviously expecting us to agree with her. No one said anything. In fact, we all pretty much pretended that we hadn’t heard her. Irritated by the lack of response, she said:

Participant: *Even more loudly* “They’re taking advantage of us! We should ask for more money!”

Along came a clinic employee, and I inwardly cringed. I’d done several of these trials, and I’d seen this lady before. She had NO tolerance for fools.

Employee: “I understand that you have a complaint?”

Participant: “Uh… Well, you’re not even paying us minimum wage.”

Employee: “That’s right. Remember that form you signed which said that you’re a volunteer? Volunteers, as a rule, don’t get paid, but we are paying you [total].”

Participant: “…”

Employee: “So. Do you still have a complaint?”

Participant: *Meekly* “No.”

Employee: “Good.”

She walked away, and I didn’t hear another peep from that participant.

Nothing Makes You Feel Better Like A Scolding
Hospital, Jerk, Maryland USA, Nurses | Healthy | July 2, 2021
I was admitted to the hospital for a life-threatening illness. The doctors were amazing and saved my life. Because my recovery was critical, I was put in a private room and monitored closely by the nurses. Of course, my room had a sink in the bathroom, and in addition, it also had a sink close to my bed to serve the nurses and the constant bandage changes, etc. All the drugs and antibiotics they were giving made me nauseous all the time. The nurses were also great; if I had to go to the bathroom or throw up, they would help me to the bathroom and stay with me if needed.

One day, I was feeling pretty good, and then suddenly, I had to throw up. No warning, it just came rushing up my throat into my mouth. I clamped my mouth shut, slipped painfully out of bed, stumbled two feet, and grabbed the edge of that sink and up it all came. The nurse came and helped me, cleaned me up, and put me back in bed.

She called one of the nurse’s aides and asked her to clean up the sink. As I lay back down in bed and the nurse left, the nurse’s aide began scolding me for making a mess in the sink. What did she want me to do? Just lean over and blow chunks on the floor? Because that’s easier — mopping and cleaning the floor. If cleaning a mess in a sink is your limit, then you need to find a whole other career real fast!

You Should Warm Up Before A Stretch Like That
Doctor/Physician, England, Ignoring & Inattentive, Medical Office, UK | Healthy | July 1, 2021
I am, by my own admission, rather overweight. I also have very painful periods, so I end up going on birth control to regulate them. As I am overweight, I have to get a blood pressure check every six months before I can get another prescription, so I’ve signed up with the University Doctors’ Surgery while I am studying at the other end of the country.

It’s a hot summer’s day when I come in for this appointment, and I’m wearing a short-sleeved shirt. As my appointment is deemed low-priority, I get assigned to whichever doctor is available, so I haven’t seen this doctor before.

After taking my blood pressure and removing the cuff, he spots some marks on my arms.

Doctor: “How long have you had those?”

Me: “Not sure. Maybe about a year?”

Doctor: “And you didn’t think of mentioning them before?”

Me: “I didn’t think they were a problem. Are they?”

Doctor: “They look like symptoms of excessive cortisol. It would explain why you have so much excess weight. If they are still there in six months, let us know. They’ll probably have to do brain surgery to fix it.”

Me: *Internally* “WHAT?!”

Me: *Externally* “Okay?”

I don’t deal with this news very well. My hair is the one feature I like about myself, and it seems like a massive thing, so I just go into denial and cover up the marks on my arms.

I’m still doing this when I go home for the holidays, even though it’s getting hotter, and my nan — who was a nurse before she retired — pulls me aside one day.

Nan: “Aren’t you hot in that, [My Name]?”

Me: “Yeah, but it’s okay.”

Nan: “You must be boiling!”

She keeps badgering me until I blurt out the whole story. She looks sceptical.

Nan: “Can I take a look at these marks?”

Reluctantly, I take off my jumper, and she looks at them for two seconds.

Nan: “When you go back for your next appointment, go to any other doctor; don’t go back to that moron. He’s seeing zebras.”

Me: “Huh? What do you mean?”

Nan: “Those are f****** stretch marks.”

So, six months of worry because a doctor didn’t recognise stretch marks. Great!

Isn’t Therapy Supposed To Be Therapeutic?
Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Jerk, Medical Office, Sweden | Healthy | June 30, 2021
I have been overweight for my entire life. It’s something I’ve come to terms with, and I don’t consider it to be the end of the world as long as it doesn’t prevent me from keeping an active lifestyle. I did a lot of damage to my body and psyche dieting in my youth and I don’t want to revisit those times, instead preferring to be as healthy as I can at the weight I happen to be at for the moment.

I also suffer from hypermobile joints. They make me overly flexible and occasionally give me pretty bad joint and muscle pain from overstraining them. They also put some limits on how physically active I can be, and I have to factor in recovery time every time I do something physically demanding. Again, I don’t consider it the end of the world, and after twenty years, I have a pretty good idea of how my body works and what I need to do to take care of myself.

I recently moved to a new town and have to deal with the hassle of finding a new physical therapist. I’ve put it off for too long, but after an intense period of getting my home in order and lifting heavy things, I can feel that I’ve overdone it and that I might need to change my PT routine a bit. I ask around, get a few recommendations, and make an appointment with a physical therapist who’s supposed to be an expert on my type of troubles. We have public healthcare in Sweden and this PT falls under that.

I’ve had a lot of bad experiences with members of the medical profession in the past, so whenever I meet someone new, I tell them that unless my weight is the direct cause of whatever medical issue I’m having at the time, I’d prefer not to discuss it.

Therapist: “Of course. Why don’t you tell me a little about what you’re dealing with?”

Me: “I recently moved into a new apartment and I’ve been carrying a lot of heavy boxes up and down the stairs, so my knees and shoulders are worse than usual, and my right hip is making this weird clicking sound that it hasn’t been doing before.”

Therapist: “Do you have an exercise program?”

Me: “Yes, I brought it with me. That’s my main reason for coming here. I want to know if there are any easier versions of these exercises that I can do while I wait for the pain to get better? I know I need to rest for a few weeks, but I don’t want to stop working out entirely.”

Therapist: *Looks at my program* “Oh, no, this won’t do at all. I’m going to give you some new exercises. How often do you do this program?”

Me: “I do the full one three times a week, and a shortened version every morning.”

The therapist shakes her head and starts compiling new exercises.

Therapist: “All right. You need to do this full program every day. We’ll go over to the gym and I’ll show them to you later. Now, I’d like to discuss your diet.”

I look at the program and I immediately see that this is not going to work for me. I asked for a lighter version of my normal program, but she’s given me a much tougher one and added several new exercises, including push-ups, which my last PT explicitly forbade me to do, ever, because my wrists can’t take it.

Me: “Sorry, I don’t think this is going to work. This whole program is going to take over an hour. I don’t have that much time every day. It’s also going to put too much strain on my joints, which are already hurting. That’s what I came here for!”

Therapist: “Well, honey, I know you don’t want to hear this, but your BMI is way too high. Unless you lose weight, you’re never going to get rid of the pain. I want you to do this program every day and add in at least thirty minutes of cardio every day, and now we’re going to talk about your diet. How often do you eat fast food?”

Me: *A little stunned* “Um, sometimes, I guess. But I prefer to cook for myself. Sorry, I think I said at the beginning of this appointment that I don’t want to discuss my weight.”

Therapist: “Yes, I understand that it makes you feel uncomfortable, but you need to face facts, honey. You can’t sit on your couch and eat fast food all day. You need to lose at least thirty kg or your pain is just going to get worse. How often do you eat vegetables? You know broccoli is very good for you, right? You need to eat more broccoli.”

Me: “I eat vegetables every day; I’m practically a vegetarian. Look, I know my weight doesn’t help matters, but I’m here because I’m in pain now, because I’ve overstrained myself, and I want to do something to make it better now, not in some kind of hypothetical future where I’ve magically lost thirty kg by eating broccoli. Can you help me with that or not?”

Therapist: “Honey, I can’t help you if you don’t want to help yourself. I’m telling you this for your own good.”

Me: “I am aware that I am overweight. I have been overweight my whole life. I’m not here because I’m overweight. I’m here because I have overstrained my hypermobile joints, and your solution to my problem is to overstrain them even more?”

Therapist: “I know it’s hard to hear, but you need to take better care of yourself. I want to help you do that, but you need to put the work in yourself!”

At this point, I realised that there was no way I would get through to this woman, so I just stood up and left.

I didn’t really feel like making a new appointment with another physical therapist after that, so in the end I just ended up modifying my exercise program myself, and after a few weeks of active rest, I could go back to my normal routine. I’m still overweight, I still have hyper-mobile joints, and eating broccoli (which I do quite often because it’s delicious) hasn’t cured me.

They’ve Got This Pain Management Thing DOWN
Bizarre, Medical Office, Michigan, Patients, USA | Healthy | June 29, 2021
I work in a pain management medical office. We always ask the pain level our patients are experiencing when they come in.

Me: “And what is your pain level today on a scale of zero to ten, zero being no pain and ten being the worst pain you’ve ever experienced?”

Patient: “Oh, a ten.”

Me: “Really? Worse than childbirth, kidney stones, getting hit by a bus?”

Patient: “Yep.”

And then they went back to sitting comfortably in their chair and playing happily on their phone.

Paying Your Bills Should Be A Priority, But… Yikes
Billing, Hospital, Iowa, Non-Dialogue, Patients, USA | Healthy | June 28, 2021
I work in the accounts billable department of one of the two major hospitals in Iowa City. It’s my job, essentially, to explain to clients why the amount they have been billed isn’t what they expected.

I’m the low peon on the totem pole, being the newest hire. That means I get to deal with the clients face to face across the billing counter.

One lady is yelling at me about her bill, when suddenly she makes a very strange, strangled sound. I figure she’s having some sort of medical event, so I immediately press the emergency medical event call button.

This turns out to be a very good idea. The lady is wearing a fairly short-skirted pantsuit, so I can see her legs. Specifically, I can see the stitches on her right leg coming undone. First, the top stitch pops, then the next one, and then the next, faster and faster until she’s got an open gash from her garters to her ankles.

Despite this, and despite her collapsing almost immediately like a puppet with her strings cut, the client continues to weakly try to discuss her billing with me, even as the orderlies pick her up and transfer her to a stretcher to carry her right back into surgery.

Still in shock from this whole affair, I stare at the massive puddle of blood in the middle of the floor, and I make the mistake of asking my coworker who’s responsible for cleaning it up.

Turned out it was me.

The Only Thing More Painful Than Getting The Bill Is GETTING The Bill
Billing, Florida, Medical Office, Reception, Tallahassee, USA | Healthy | June 27, 2021
Due to some… up and down employment, I decide to subscribe to a third-party insurance company to cover emergency expenses. They give me a preloaded debit card to pay for my care, and I upload a receipt later. So, it’s become commonplace for me to ask my providers for an itemized receipt after care. This USUALLY isn’t a problem. I go in for an annual blood draw.

Me: “Hey, I need an itemized receipt for my insurance. Is that something you can do?”

Nurse: “Absolutely! Just ask the woman for it when you go to pay.”

I go around the corner to pay.

Me: “Hey, I need an itemized receipt for my insurance. Can you print that out for me?”

Receptionist #1 : “Oh, we don’t do that here. You’ll have to go around the corner and down the hall to billing.”

I head around the corner and down the hall to billing.

Me: “Hey, I need an itemized receipt for my insurance. Can you print that out for me?”

Receptionist #2 : “Did you get care today? Because it won’t be in the system yet. Here, call back in a week and speak to [Receptionist #3 ]. She’ll be able to get you the receipt.”

I wait a week and call. [Receptionist #3 ] is available and I get her on the phone.

Me: “Hey, I need an itemized receipt for my insurance. Can you print that out for me?”

Receptionist #3 : “Oh, of course. Would you like it mailed? I can send it out today.”

Me: “That would be great, thanks!”

So, I wait. And wait. And wait. And the letter never comes. Finally, almost three weeks after my actual blood draw, I call again.

Me: “Hey, I need an itemized receipt for my insurance. Can you print that out for me?”

Receptionist #4 : “Of course, just give me your information.”

Me: “Can I come pick it up, please?”

Receptionist #4 : “Uh, sure? Just give me your name and I’ll mark it down.”

I do so, and drive over; luckily it’s just down the street. FINALLY, I have the receipt. It seemed like such a simple request, but it turned into a video game fetch quest.

Anchors Aweigh… And Aweigh, And Aweigh…
Dentist, Florida, Health & Body, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Military, Non-Dialogue, Pharmacy, USA | Healthy | June 26, 2021
I was a new sailor, getting ready to report to my first ship. My wife and I had driven all the way across the country to the base where my ship was home-ported, so we were totally unfamiliar with the area. We got a hotel room while we looked for apartments, but the next day I got really sick. Two of my teeth on my upper jaw hurt so much I couldn’t sleep, so we grabbed my medical and dental records — this was a long time ago, when sailors hand-carried their records between assignments — and managed to find our way to the local Navy hospital. I checked into the dental office, and they got me in very quickly because I was obviously in a lot of pain.

The dentist, a Navy Lieutenant, poked and prodded a bit, had an x-ray taken, and then told me there was nothing wrong with my teeth. She said I probably had a raging sinus infection and had one of the nurses take me to the emergency room on the ground floor.

An hour or so later, I was diagnosed with a sinus infection, given a paper prescription, and sent to the on-site pharmacy. I grabbed a number and waited, still dazed by the constant pain in my face from the infection. My wife had to tell me when they called my number, and she escorted me to the pharmacy window. The pharmacy tech rattled off a bunch of stuff about the medicines I wasn’t coherent enough to follow, but I did make out that I needed to start taking them right away.

Fine. No problem. We sat back down and I read the labels. The largest bottle said I had to take four pills right away. I staggered to the water fountain in the lobby and swallowed one of everything, plus four of the pills from the big bottle. I walked back to where my wife was sitting, and she started putting the bottles of pills in her purse, giving each bottle a quick look to see if any needed to be refrigerated. Then, she paused and said, “Oh, f***!”

She dragged me up to the prescription drop-off window and hollered for help. An older man came to see what was wrong, and my wife showed him the large bottle and my ID card. The pharmacy tech turned white as a sheet and said, “Oh, f***!”, and then called for a gurney and a doctor.

The next couple of hours were a blur of activity I don’t remember much about, ending with me admitted overnight for observation. It seems the pharmacy tech who’d handed me my pills had also grabbed a bottle intended for another patient — the large bottle. I had taken a quadruple dose of a major blood-pressure medication and my blood pressure was dangerously low by the time the ER managed to get me hooked up to an EKG.

Even in military medicine, almost killing the patients is generally contraindicated. I recovered fine, but there was a major investigation at the hospital, and the pharmacy tech who handed me the wrong pills ended up demoted or transferred someplace unpleasant — perhaps both. The pharmacy at that hospital changed their standard operating procedures to require careful verification of the name on every label and to cross-check every prescription issued with the patient’s medical record.

That’s how the US Navy nearly got me killed before I set foot aboard my first ship.

These People Are Extra Good At Kindness
Awesome, Friends, Health & Body, Hospital, Inspirational, Kind Strangers, Non-Dialogue, USA | Healthy | June 25, 2021
About a year ago, I decided to become a non-directed kidney donor. I live alone — except a five-month-old husky puppy — with all of my family in other states a good 2,000 miles away from where I’d just moved a year prior. As the surgery date started to approach, I needed to get things in order. I tend to be both very independent and overly optimistic about what I can get done on my own. Due to their own life difficulties, none of my family would be coming out to stay with me pre- or post-surgery. The following is a brief summary of the many wonderful ways I was reminded of just how wonderful people are.

My puppy: my puppy was a rescue I had found by the side of the road at the start of the health crisis. I’d just started going to the dog park with him when the surgery got scheduled. The surgery came up in conversation, and three different strangers volunteered to come to pick him up and bring him for walks and to the dog park. Another new friend with a small baby and a puppy of their own offered, without being asked, to take him for the entire hospital stay.

Homecare: while I was recovering from surgery, at least a dozen different people stopped by to clean my home, take my dog out, bring me meals, and help me get up to exercise. Several people also heard that I was not eating because of how bad I felt and made it a point to either bring me the only things I could stomach (variations on dry breads) or sit on the phone with me and go through menus until they said something that sounded edible.

School: I am a graduate student and did not fully appreciate the impact it would have on my semester, nor how much my classmates and professors would care. Every single professor continuously checked up on me and went out of their way to accommodate me as much as possible. One even dropped off special homemade soup at my home. Several classmates were kind and patient enough to review and reteach me whole units because I was too doped up on drugs to properly understand them the first time. They gave me rides to the store, took me out walking, and just sat patiently with me while I was miserable.

Possibly the sweetest was in the hospital. The night after the surgery was the worst. The anesthesia was finally wearing off and they had to double my pain meds, but the oxygen monitor kept going off every time I started to fall asleep. Apparently, I breathe shallowly when asleep. It was so awful and it was really late at night or early in the morning and I just felt so miserable and alone. I definitely was not rational and was extremely emotional. I proceeded to start going down my friend list on my phone calling people just to see if anyone was up and could keep me company. Every person I called answered. Half of them just read Jane Austen to me until I calmed down or would just talk so I could hear a familiar voice. The last person I called stayed on with me until the doctor came back around and was able to change the meds and get me off the oxygen so I could sleep.

With the exception of the people on the phone, none of these people had known me for more than a few months, and I’d only met most of them a handful of times. I’m doing great now, as is the donee. I’m doing so well, in fact, that it is easy to forget that the experience even happened — except when I look down at my scars, and then I get the chance to remember how a group of near-strangers took care of me like I was their sister, daughter, granddaughter, and friend.

People really are remarkable.

Pink Ribbons Make Some People See Red
Apartment Complex, California, Charity, Health & Body, Jerk, USA | Healthy | June 24, 2021
I am a leasing agent at a senior apartment complex. I contributed to a breast cancer research fund and received a pink ribbon pin, which we are allowed to wear. My current applicant has been huffing and tutting as she fills out paperwork, and she makes a point of never looking me in the eye. When we are finished, she tries a parting shot.

Applicant: “You know, I had breast cancer, too, but I don’t advertise it.”

Me: *With a big smile* “I haven’t had it, thankfully, but my cousin died from it, so I do what I can to raise awareness.”

She turned a few shades of red, grabbed her paperwork, and hurried off.

Find A Job You Love
Awesome, Funny, Laboratory, Medical Office, Patients, Pennsylvania, USA | Healthy | June 23, 2021
I am working as a phlebotomist at a labcorp. That means I’m the guy that draws your blood whenever you need it done for some sort of test. The latest person I’m drawing blood from is polite with a decent sense of humor and doesn’t freak out at the idea of having blood drawn, so generally, I consider him a decent customer.

Me: “Apply pressure here, please.”

Patient: “Okay. I guess you’re almost done with me, huh?”

Me: “Just about.”

Patient: “Lucky you. Most people agree five minutes of dealing with me is about the most anyone should have to endure.”

Me: “Oh, that’s not fair. I didn’t mind drawing for you at all.”

Patient: “I guess I can understand that. I mean, most people I meet end up wanting to stab me, but you’re one of the few that actually gets to do it! Must be very therapeutic, huh?”

Me: “Yep, stabbing people for fun and profit — what’s not to love about this job?”

Patient: “That’s the spirit! Have a good day now. Enjoy making people bleed.”

Me: “Oh, I will, I promise.”

Bending Your Knowledge Of Medicine Until It Breaks
Austria, Cousins, Health & Body, Ski Resort | Healthy | June 22, 2021
I went on a winter holiday in Austria. It was my second time snowboarding after finishing my lessons the year before. On the afternoon of our third day there, I was exhausted and I tried to push myself up from a sitting position but fell right away. I felt a small snapping sensation in my right ring finger, but I didn’t think much about it.

Thirty minutes and two ski lifts later, I realized that my finger was swollen. I decided to go back to our hotel. I asked my cousin — a med student — about what I needed to use to reduce the pain. She tried to feel the bone but couldn’t because the finger was very thick already.

Cousin: “Can you bend your finger?”

Me: “Only like a third of the way.”

Cousin: “How painful is it out of ten?”

Me: “I think six.”

Cousin: “I think you just sprained it. Just use the ointment to reduce bruising, wrap it with elastic sport tape to keep it still, and you should be okay in a few days.”

Me: “You don’t think it’s broken?”

Cousin: “You would know it if it was broken. You would feel more pain.”

Me: “I don’t have to go to the emergency clinic here, then?”

Cousin: “Nah. It’s too expensive here. You can wait until we’re back in Amsterdam.”

Me: “Okay.”

A few days after we were back, almost a week after the accident, I had to go to Indonesia. By then, the swelling was gone, but the finger was still crooked and couldn’t bend. I decided to go to a clinic there.

From the x-ray picture, they saw that I had a hairline fracture close to the second joint of my right ring finger. Unfortunately, it had already been too long, so the bone already started healing itself, in the wrong position. Now the finger is forever crooked.

When I told my family about it, [Cousin] received a lot of teasing, and the story is retold every winter holiday. She did not choose orthopedics as her specialty.

A Mother-In-Law So Sweet She’ll Give You Diabetes
Doctor/Physician, In-Laws, Medical Office, The Netherlands | Healthy | June 21, 2021
I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes when I was five months pregnant. My OBGYN referred me to a dietitian for a consultation. I went with my mother-in-law since the office is hard to reach with public transport.

During the consultation, my mother-in-law kept telling the dietitian that I always eat a lot of rice, noodles, and Asian food in general that has high sugar levels. She’s not completely wrong, but I am also okay with switching to a low-carb, low-sugar diet. Then, my mother-in-law suggested that I eat at her place more often since she always eats healthy. My dietitian seemed happy, and I just said yes to keep the consultation going.

Fast forward to the next consultation with my dietitian, one month later, the week after Christmas. This time, I went with my husband.

Dietitian: “Hi! How was your Christmas?”

Me: “It was good. We celebrated at his parents’ place. My mother-in-law always prepares the Christmas dinner.”

Dietitian: “Were you able to keep your blood sugar level low and stable?”

Me: “Yes. The highest was 6.2, and it was after a slice of pie.”

Dietitian: “Oh, good! What did you eat other than that?”

Me: “I knew I wanted the pie, so I skipped the mashed potatoes and only ate the roast beef and beans. I skipped the sauce and compote. I also only ate a small slice of pie.”

Dietitian: “Didn’t your mother-in-law say that she always cooks healthy?”

Husband: “Ignore her. She always says that, but then always cooks mashed potatoes with gravy, salad with tons of dressing, and prepackaged juice.”

Dietitian: “Oh.”

I love my husband and how realistic he is about everything.

A Mother-In-Law So Sweet She’ll Give You Diabetes
Doctor/Physician, In-Laws, Medical Office, The Netherlands | Healthy | June 21, 2021
I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes when I was five months pregnant. My OBGYN referred me to a dietitian for a consultation. I went with my mother-in-law since the office is hard to reach with public transport.

During the consultation, my mother-in-law kept telling the dietitian that I always eat a lot of rice, noodles, and Asian food in general that has high sugar levels. She’s not completely wrong, but I am also okay with switching to a low-carb, low-sugar diet. Then, my mother-in-law suggested that I eat at her place more often since she always eats healthy. My dietitian seemed happy, and I just said yes to keep the consultation going.

Fast forward to the next consultation with my dietitian, one month later, the week after Christmas. This time, I went with my husband.

Dietitian: “Hi! How was your Christmas?”

Me: “It was good. We celebrated at his parents’ place. My mother-in-law always prepares the Christmas dinner.”

Dietitian: “Were you able to keep your blood sugar level low and stable?”

Me: “Yes. The highest was 6.2, and it was after a slice of pie.”

Dietitian: “Oh, good! What did you eat other than that?”

Me: “I knew I wanted the pie, so I skipped the mashed potatoes and only ate the roast beef and beans. I skipped the sauce and compote. I also only ate a small slice of pie.”

Dietitian: “Didn’t your mother-in-law say that she always cooks healthy?”

Husband: “Ignore her. She always says that, but then always cooks mashed potatoes with gravy, salad with tons of dressing, and prepackaged juice.”

Dietitian: “Oh.”

I love my husband and how realistic he is about everything.

Not Healthy, Not Working, And So Not Okay
Bosses & Owners, Doctor/Physician, Medical Office, Patients, USA | Healthy | June 19, 2021
My family has a history of anxiety, depression, and OCD. I have had anxiety my entire life and it seems to have manifested as early as three years old, but I’ve never really needed medication for it as I coped with meditation and therapy. I had some slight OCD tendencies but compared to my sister and grandmother I never really thought I had it because it wasn’t “that bad”.

I also developed PTSD during the global health crisis because my boss at the time isolated me and wouldn’t let me speak to any of my coworkers and generally refused to let me do my job while screaming at me for two to four hours a day about how we need to do our jobs. Basically, she threatened me with my job during a global health crisis, while going out of her way to make it so I couldn’t do my job, to cover up her own inadequacies.

After experiencing symptoms six months later, I finally go to a psychiatrist, who diagnoses me. I later go to see a doctor, as being stressed out for so long can affect your physical health and I want to get fully better.

General Practitioner: “So, any new medication since we last spoke?”

Me: “Actually, yes, I am on 20 mg of fluoxetine.”

General Practitioner: “What are you taking it for?”

Me: “Anxiety… and depression… and OCD… and PTSD.”

General Practitioner: “…”

Me: “It is a h*** of a drug.”

A Mother-In-Law So Sweet She’ll Give You Diabetes
Doctor/Physician, In-Laws, Medical Office, The Netherlands | Healthy | June 21, 2021
I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes when I was five months pregnant. My OBGYN referred me to a dietitian for a consultation. I went with my mother-in-law since the office is hard to reach with public transport.

During the consultation, my mother-in-law kept telling the dietitian that I always eat a lot of rice, noodles, and Asian food in general that has high sugar levels. She’s not completely wrong, but I am also okay with switching to a low-carb, low-sugar diet. Then, my mother-in-law suggested that I eat at her place more often since she always eats healthy. My dietitian seemed happy, and I just said yes to keep the consultation going.

Fast forward to the next consultation with my dietitian, one month later, the week after Christmas. This time, I went with my husband.

Dietitian: “Hi! How was your Christmas?”

Me: “It was good. We celebrated at his parents’ place. My mother-in-law always prepares the Christmas dinner.”

Dietitian: “Were you able to keep your blood sugar level low and stable?”

Me: “Yes. The highest was 6.2, and it was after a slice of pie.”

Dietitian: “Oh, good! What did you eat other than that?”

Me: “I knew I wanted the pie, so I skipped the mashed potatoes and only ate the roast beef and beans. I skipped the sauce and compote. I also only ate a small slice of pie.”

Dietitian: “Didn’t your mother-in-law say that she always cooks healthy?”

Husband: “Ignore her. She always says that, but then always cooks mashed potatoes with gravy, salad with tons of dressing, and prepackaged juice.”

Dietitian: “Oh.”

I love my husband and how realistic he is about everything.

Not Healthy, Not Working, And So Not Okay
Bosses & Owners, Doctor/Physician, Medical Office, Patients, USA | Healthy | June 19, 2021
My family has a history of anxiety, depression, and OCD. I have had anxiety my entire life and it seems to have manifested as early as three years old, but I’ve never really needed medication for it as I coped with meditation and therapy. I had some slight OCD tendencies but compared to my sister and grandmother I never really thought I had it because it wasn’t “that bad”.

I also developed PTSD during the global health crisis because my boss at the time isolated me and wouldn’t let me speak to any of my coworkers and generally refused to let me do my job while screaming at me for two to four hours a day about how we need to do our jobs. Basically, she threatened me with my job during a global health crisis, while going out of her way to make it so I couldn’t do my job, to cover up her own inadequacies.

After experiencing symptoms six months later, I finally go to a psychiatrist, who diagnoses me. I later go to see a doctor, as being stressed out for so long can affect your physical health and I want to get fully better.

General Practitioner: “So, any new medication since we last spoke?”

Me: “Actually, yes, I am on 20 mg of fluoxetine.”

General Practitioner: “What are you taking it for?”

Me: “Anxiety… and depression… and OCD… and PTSD.”

General Practitioner: “…”

Me: “It is a h*** of a drug.”

“Ignore It Until It Goes Away” Doesn’t Work With Everything
Health & Body, Home, Hospital, Indonesia, Patients | Healthy | June 17, 2021
I have mild chronic gastritis. I also have a slight deformation on my hip so I often feel pain in my lower back and hip. The pain I feel from those two conditions can be bad, but thankfully not often. I also have a high pain threshold because of them.

One day in late November, I started feeling discomfort in my stomach but I couldn’t really pinpoint where exactly. I disregarded it as just one of my two issues, so I started taking my usual medicine and kept an eye on my diet. The pain came and went for a full month. I didn’t really think about it since I was busy with a project and I had already bought a concert ticket. Project ended, concert attended, and the pain still lingered.

Finally, on New Year’s Eve, the pain was unbearable, so I told my sister who’s a doctor. She came by and did a quick check.

Sister: “Pack your bag, and I’ll call our parents to take you to the ER.”

It turned out that I had a swollen appendix. It was only hours away from rupturing. I ended up having to watch the New Year’s Eve fireworks through a hospital window, with an IV drip and some stitches on my tummy.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is a reminder to never ignore any pain you feel in your body.

You Got Grass Growing On Your Roof? Part 2
Bizarre, Funny, Hospital, Minnesota, Patients, USA | Healthy | June 15, 2021
My aunt is home alone while my uncle is at work. She decides to mow the lawn, gets distracted, and gets into an accident. She suffers multiple broken bones and a minor concussion but is able to crawl into the house, reach the telephone, and dial 911 to request an ambulance. She gets wheeled into the emergency room and the doctor enters.

Doctor: “Hello, [Aunt], can you tell me what happened?”

Aunt: “I was mowing the lawn and fell off the roof.”

Doctor: “Umm… I’m sorry, what was that?”

Aunt: “I was mowing the lawn, and I fell off the roof onto the driveway.”

Doctor: “How… Okay. What roof were you on?”

Aunt: “The house.”

Doctor: “Hmm. And what were you doing on the roof?”

Aunt: “Mowing the lawn.”

Doctor: “Okay, [Aunt]. I think we’ll start prepping for surgery now.”

My uncle makes it to the hospital while my aunt is in surgery, and the doctor comes out to update him.

Doctor: “[Aunt] is doing well. She has suffered a broken back, multiple broken ribs, a cracked pelvis, and a few broken bones in her legs. She also has a concussion. Fortunately, none of her internal organs seem to be damaged, and her spinal cord has not been damaged. She may have a permanent limp or similar mobility challenges, but I believe she will otherwise make a full recovery with enough time.”

Uncle: “Thank you.”

Doctor: “I do have to ask one thing, though. I’m not sure exactly what happened that caused these injuries. [Aunt] tried to explain, but I think she was confused because of the concussion. Do you have any idea what might have happened?”

Uncle: “What did she say?”

Doctor: “She said she… Well, she said she fell off the roof while mowing the lawn.”

Uncle: *To himself* “Oh, so that’s why the lawn mower was in the driveway.”

Doctor: “Umm, [Uncle]?”

Uncle: “Well, she’s not wrong. We built our house into the side of a hill. We dug out the front of the hill and built a frame to keep the hill from collapsing. Then we built a house within the frame. The top and the other sides of the hill weren’t touched except for clearing some trees, so there’s still grass growing over the hill. We use a riding lawn mower to mow the lawn, which includes the hill that we dug out. [Aunt] must have been mowing the hill — which is basically our roof — and got distracted or something broke on the lawn mower, and she drove off the edge of the hill. I’ll bring in a picture of our house tomorrow to give you a better idea.”

The next day, my uncle did bring in a picture of the house, and the doctor was finally able to understand what my aunt meant when she said she was mowing the lawn and fell off the roof.

And now for the happy ending: my aunt did make a full recovery, with only a slight limp today. However, she has been banned from mowing the lawn ever since!

Poison Oak Is Natural But It Still Itches Like Crazy!
Health & Body, Northern Ireland, Online, Strangers, UK | Healthy | June 13, 2021
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.



A few years ago, my wife experimented with a certain brand of mycoprotein-based products. The first time we ate some, I became ill with vomiting and stomach cramps. I foolishly assumed that these were caused by something else, but the second time we ate some, it happened again and we very quickly realised I was sensitive to mycoprotein-based products, a phenomenon which is pretty well documented.

About nine months ago, I saw a Facebook advert for this particular brand and commented, saying that while I thought this product was a great idea, regrettably, I was sensitive to mycoprotein-based products so would have to avoid eating them.

Then, I got THIS reply from a random Facebook user I don’t even know.

Stranger: “Well, you’re clearly an idiot, then. You can’t get ill from [product]. It’s natural. NATURAL PRODUCTS DON’T MAKE YOU ILL!”

I didn’t have the heart to point out to her that latex, peanuts, kiwi fruit, and eggs are all-natural and can ALL trigger serious allergic reactions.

Like I say, this phenomenon is pretty well documented, and in some cases, people have eaten mycoprotein and ended up in ICU! I’m not really sure what this woman on Facebook was thinking