It’s An Emergency! But It Can Wait. JERK, MEDICAL OFFICE, NURSES, USA | HEALTHY | SEPTEMBER 7, 2020

A Most Receptive Receptionist
AWESOME, HEALTH & BODY, MEDICAL OFFICE, NON-DIALOGUE, PATIENTS, RECEPTION, SWEDEN | HEALTHY | JULY 4, 2020
I suffer from recurring bouts of erysipelas and have had it twelve times for the past nine years. Each time, I amass a lot of fluids in my body and gain twenty to twenty-five kilograms in a couple of days, which is great fun. I then work hard to shed the unwanted weight and drop back to the original weight, only to get erysipelas again. It’s rather draining mentally.

The first time I got sick, I didn’t understand what was happening. My legs were so filled with fluid that they stopped working, and it took me four hours to drag myself from the living room out to the phone in the hallway to call for an ambulance. I ended up spending four months isolated in the hospital, and I lost all skin on my right leg, from the hip and all the way down to under my feet and around my toes. Instead, green gunk gushed out from the open wound.

It took me six months before I could walk again and I became a “frequent flyer” at my local health clinic during this time, when I also battled cancer.

About eighteen months ago, it was my best friend’s birthday and I was looking forward to visiting her. When I woke up that morning, I felt unwell, but since I had called out sick the two previous times we were supposed to meet, I didn’t want to disappoint her again. She picked me up, we went to her home, and she gushed over her gifts as I started shaking more and more violently. I fell off my chair as I couldn’t stop shuddering. My friend got this huge blanket and wrapped me in it, but I couldn’t speak as I was shaking too much. She dragged me out to her car and drove me home, where I called the health clinic.

I knew from the shaking and the state of my leg that I had erysipelas again.

I was informed by an automated message that they had filled their daily quota for walk-ins, but I was welcome to try again the next day. I knew it was erysipelas but it also felt different as it was progressing much faster than normal.

I called the national health helpline and talked to a rather snotty lady. She told me to call an ambulance right away.

I refused, as I had had erysipelas eleven times before. I knew that I just needed antibiotics and I would get better in a few days — no need for an ambulance or clogging up the emergency room with something unimportant.

So, barely conscious and shaking violently, I went out into the kitchen and made schnitzels. After all, it was what I had planned to cook that day. They were delicious, but… it was not the most logical action. I was rather delirious, though, which might excuse my lack of logical thinking.

I then called the health clinic again and spoke to the receptionist. I knew I would only need a five-minute appointment to come in, show my glaringly red leg, and get a prescription for antibiotics. Could they possibly squeeze me in?

“Yes, if you can get here at 12:45, we can fit you in.”

“Great! I’ll take the bus in ten minutes, at 12:20. See you!”

By now, my legs were swollen, filled with fluid, and horribly infected, and it was difficult to lift my feet. I used my distance walking sticks as crutches to stumble to the bus stop.

It’s only a three-minute bus ride to the health clinic.

When I entered the health clinic, the reception was deserted. A woman was seated in the waiting area but not waiting for the receptionist; I don’t know if she was the companion of another patient or waiting for her ride home. I sat down by the receptionist with my identification ready and more or less lost consciousness. I was shaking so badly. After a while, the receptionist returned. I was too ill to notice, but the other woman went up for me.

“You have to see her immediately!” the woman told the receptionist. “She’s really sick.”

She handed over my ID and my wallet to the receptionist, who ran me through the computer, and together they managed to shake some life into me and I managed to hop on my own to the waiting room.

My leg hurt so badly that I couldn’t sit properly, and I had to place it on the table. It was pretty disgusting, but the leg hurt so bad.

The nurse came over and said, “Hi, [My Name]! Oh, my! Wait here!”

She rushed over to the doctor’s office; I could hear her urge him to come out right away.

“Hi, [My Name],” the doctor said. “Wow, you have erysipelas. When did it start?”

“Two hours ago,” I said.

“Two hours? No, that can’t be. Can I check your arm?”

Yeah, of course, he could. I wasn’t going to use it myself, so check away.

“Wait here! There’s no need for any exam or testing.” Off he went for a couple of minutes before he returned, chatting on a cell phone. “It’s urgent! You have to rush!” he begged on the phone. Then, he turned back to me. “Okay, [My Name]. You have erysipelas, which you already know, because you know this disease better than any of us doctors here. But… you’re going into sepsis. In two hours, the sepsis has spread from your calves to your elbows. It’s really, really bad. I’ve called an ambulance.”

The ambulance arrived in less than ten minutes. I was quickly treated at the hospital and made a full recovery.

If the receptionist hadn’t squeezed me in, I would have gone to bed, instead. Considering how fast the sepsis was spreading, the outcome would not have been good. I am eternally grateful for the wonderful treatment I got that day.

A Most Unreceptive Receptionist
JERK, MEDICAL OFFICE, RECEPTION, USA | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 17, 2020
(I have a potential diagnosis of a rare and extremely painful neurological disorder. I have to schedule with a neurologist, who lives a four-hour drive from where I live. By this point, I’ve been in severe pain for several months, and my patience for rudeness is admittedly running a bit thin.)

Me: “Hi, I’m calling to see if I need an MRI before I come down.”

Receptionist: “The doctor will inform you if you need that at the appointment.”

Me: “Yes, I understand that, but it’s a four-hour drive to see this doctor and I have to stay overnight and I’d rather not have to do it more than once.”

Receptionist: *much more snippy than is necessary* “Well, that’s not my problem, is it?”

Me: “Pardon me, but I’ve been in fairly serious pain for a while and that’s why I’m calling your office — to make sure that the appointment to get rid of my pain runs smoothly.”

Receptionist: “There’s no reason to take that tone.”

Me: “Are you f****** kidding me?!”

Receptionist: “Young lady, if you insist on using that language with me, I will disconnect the call and inform [Doctor] of your attitude, and we’ll see if you see another neurologist in this hospital.”

(I disconnected the call, had a panic attack, and then cried with my mom for an hour. No one is making a first appointment with a specialist for happy fun times. If you don’t understand that someone is probably calling because they’re in pain or sick, maybe you shouldn’t work in healthcare.)

What Part Of “NO MORE” Do You Not Understand?
HEALTH & BODY, HOSPITAL, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, NURSES, USA | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 19, 2020
(I go into labor with my son. My mother-in-law drives me to the hospital and they admit me right away as I am dilated enough that the birthing process can begin. I should note that the pregnancy has not been the best as I was a super sick one and had additional complications that necessitated ultrasounds — the invasive kind — every week after the first three months of pregnancy. I already decided long before we had our child that this would be my first and last child, as I have four stepkids, all of whom fulfill my life. Skip ahead to the labor. I ask for an epidural as my pain tolerance is low. The epidural has to be administered three times due to an unknown condition with scoliosis. The first time, nothing happens but lots of pain. The second time, only a portion of my body is numb but not the parts I need. Finally, the third time, it is bliss. I no longer feel pain, only enough pressure to get through the task. Everything goes smoothly from there. Then, I ask to be put back on the depo shot as I do not want to ever get pregnant again. I joke that I would get a hysterectomy if I could.)

Nurse #1 : “Oh, honey, don’t worry. Let’s give you some time to let the pain meds wear off and think about birth control later. You are just scared because of your recent pregnancy.”

Me: “No, thank you. Can you please put me on the shot ASAP? It’s not because I disliked the experience; this was a decision made long before I became pregnant. I only want one child, as I am happy with our home dynamics as they are.”

(The next day, I ask another nurse for the depo shot.)

Nurse #2 : “Okay, I’ll look into it.”

(Nothing ever happens. The next day, with another nurse…)

Me: “Hi. The pain medicine has worn off, which I know was a concern for the first nurse, and I would like to receive my depo shot now, while I am still admitted in the hospital.”

Nurse #3 : “Okay, I will look into it and see what we can do, but you are still very emotional from just having a child. Maybe give it a while before you decide to go back on birth control.”

Me: “Thank you, but I am certain I do not want to have any more children, and it’s not because of the labor experience I had.”

(Quite a time has passed, and I realize they are not looking into it for me. My final and last day in the hospital, I ask yet another nurse who is still skeptical, but finally, I get the shot and am happy to leave. Fast forward to my regular gynecologist appointment. The nurse asks me to take a pregnancy test and I say I will, but there is no need as my spouse has gotten a vasectomy. Only then do I realize she is one of the nurses from my time in the hospital; my gynecologist office is a part of the hospital that specializes in complications so for some things, the staff is the same.)

Nurse #3 : “Oh, I thought you were kidding about not having any more kids.”

Me: “No, I wasn’t, and since it is easier for men to get a vasectomy… that’s what we did. The depo shot now is to keep my endometriosis under control and a backup in case the vasectomy ever reverses itself.”

(Needless to say, I stopped using them as my doctor’s office and found a different on

Probably Should Have Asked Beforehand
PATIENTS, PENNSYLVANIA, PHARMACY, STUPID, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 28, 2020
My mom works as a night pharmacist in a retail chain.

Patient: “Hi, I had surgery the other day, and I just wanted to know what I had removed.”

Mom: “You would have to call your surgeon’s office. I can’t look that up.”

Patient: “But he’s so hard to get a hold of, and everyone always says if you have a question to ask your pharmacist!”

Mom: “That’s not really how it works.”

She Blinded Me With Science! Kind Of.
COLLEGE & UNIVERSITY, HEALTH & BODY, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, NON-DIALOGUE, STUDENTS, TEACHERS, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 27, 2020
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

I am an exercise science major. For one of my classes, we have to perform a treadmill test on one student and use the data collected for a lab write-up.

The day of the lab, my class prior to this is also in the exercise science laboratory, so I am sitting in a chair inside when my professor walks in. She asks me to come and help her set up the lab because I did the same lab with the same professor last semester for a different class.

I go in and start to put together the headpiece that will monitor the subject’s breathing. The rest of the small class walks in — only five people — and they stand around talking amongst themselves until the professor asks them who is going to be the subject. They decide to use “nose goes” to determine who the subject will be.

I do not participate because I have gloves on to keep the headpiece sanitary — it goes inside of the subject’s mouth — and I kind of assume I am exempt from this because I am basically setting up the whole lab by myself. The only things that have to be done after this are connecting the headpiece to a tube and writing down the data that a computer collects for us.

The other students don’t care about this and tell me that I have to be the subject because I lost “nose goes.” I agree because I’m not a confrontational person due to my severe anxiety. So, the professor and one other student help me put on the headpiece. As they are putting it on, the professor tells me she is taking off my glasses to get it on, but she’ll put them back on before the test starts. The professor then gets distracted because my heart rate monitor is not working and forgets about my glasses.

This is a very big problem because I am almost legally blind with my glasses, and I try to tell her this, but I can’t speak due to the headpiece. So, they start the treadmill and I quickly realize how bad this is. The treadmill is all black, so I am unable to tell the difference between the belt and the plastic siding. During the first minute of the test, I step too far forward, partway onto the front plastic, and almost trip.

This sends me into panic mode, because I know I am going to fall, hurt myself, and completely embarrass myself by the end of this fifteen-minute test. I try to hold onto the sides of the treadmill for security, but the professor hits my hands away and tells me I can’t do this. So, I start to flap my hands, one of my stims that I use to calm myself when I get incredibly anxious.

At the three-minute mark, another student holds a paper in front of my face to determine my rating of perceived exertion, or how hard I feel the test is at this point. I try to tell them I can’t see the words on the paper, but they take me gesturing towards the paper as pointing at a specific rating and then tell me not to talk so I don’t mess up the data.

I get seven minutes into the test. My vision is going black and my heart is beating so fast I feel like I’m about to have a heart attack. I later find out that I was way above my maximum healthy heart rate and the test should have been stopped, but the students were not paying any attention to my heart rate so it went unnoticed.

I finally decide that I can no longer go on with the test and give them the indication that I need to stop. My professor asks me to go “one more minute” but then notices my heart rate and tells the other students that I need to get off the treadmill immediately. The test is stopped, the headpiece is removed, and I am able to sit in a chair. I’m shaking and hyperventilating, still feel like I’m about to have a heart attack, and am incredibly embarrassed that I was unable to complete the test and that I’m having a full-blown panic attack in front of my class.

The professor looks over the data and sees the ratings of perceived exertion that were collected when I was wildly gesturing towards the paper. She asks me, “Why did you rate these so low; wasn’t the test hard for you? You were having a hard time.”

I manage to basically hiss out between my gasps for breath, “I couldn’t see. You didn’t give me my glasses back. I’m almost blind.”

The professor shuts up and the other students get me to re-rate the test. After this, I am able to go home, thinking that this will be the end of it.

However, the professor proceeds to mention how I was unable to complete the test every week, assuming it was because I was out of shape, not because I was having a panic attack. This is so embarrassing that I end up having minor panic attacks before I go to this class every day, fearing that she is going to mention it again.

I wish there was some sort of incredible ending to this story where I stood up for myself and yelled at the professor, but due to a certain illness outbreak, I ended up having to complete the class online and did not have to deal with that professor for the rest of the semester.

People Are Waiting Longer And Longer To Have Kids
HOSPITAL, NURSES, PHARMACY, STUPID, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 23, 2020
My dad is a clinical pharmacist before retirement. One hospital he works in for about thirty years has some nurses that are clearly in need of some extra training. The pharmacists can see the entire profile for the patient, including medications currently prescribed, what they are in the hospital for at the moment, etc.

Dad receives a prescription marked “urgent” that does not correlate with the patient’s diagnosis, and he immediately calls the nurse.

Dad: “Hi, this is [Dad] from the pharmacy. I am unable to fill the script you just sent me. Please double-check and resend it.”

Nurse: “Um, no. I sent it to you; you fill it. Do your d*** job!”

Dad: “Not happening. Have the doctor call me immediately if you won’t comply.”

Nurse: “What the f***?! How dare you insinuate I can’t do my job?!”

Dad: “Because you just requested a drug to induce labor for an eighty-five-year-old patient here for a heart attack. I’m not going to kill her.”

My dad hung up and dialed the doctor directly to get it handled.

Luckily, it was something my dad could start on while waiting on the doctor to send the CORRECT prescription and had already done so based on the semi-close names of the drugs, and the lady was okay. Unluckily, the nurse reported my dad for “unprofessional ism” and he had a long investigation started. The nurse didn’t last long.

Caution Is Important, But Um…
CURRENT EVENTS, HEALTH & BODY, MEDICAL OFFICE, PATIENTS, STUPID, TEXAS, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 21, 2020
Me: “This is [Heart Clinic]; how can I help you?”

Patient: “I have an appointment tomorrow, and I really need to come, but I found out my aunt had [rapidly spreading illness].”

Me: “I’m so sorry to hear that! Did you have contact with your aunt?”

Patient: “No, I haven’t seen her in months.”

Me: “You had contact with someone who has seen her recently, then?”

Patient: “I haven’t had contact with anyone lately. I get my groceries delivered, even.”

Me: “Okay. So, you have to go see her, then?”

Patient: “What? No! She’s in the hospital. I can’t go see her.”

Me: “Are you having any of these symptoms?”

I read off a list of symptoms.

Patient: “As far as I know, I’m healthy as can be, except for the heart issues.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I’m confused. If you need the appointment, then why are you cancelling?”

Patient: “Because my aunt has [illness].”

Parenthood Doesn’t Come With Clairvoyance
CRAZY REQUESTS, INSURANCE, NON-DIALOGUE, PENNSYLVANIA, PITTSBURGH, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 19, 2020
My son was born with a very slight heart murmur. The pediatrician said he needed to see a cardiologist so they called one in right away. He was only an hour old.

One month later, I got a letter saying the insurance wouldn’t pay because it needed a pre-authorization twenty-four hours before the visit. I called the insurance company and said that twenty-four hours before the visit, my son was negative twenty-three hours old. They paid the claim.

He’s eighteen now, and he’s fine.

Hopefully, Those Weeks Just Flu By
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, MEDICAL OFFICE, PATIENTS, USA | HEALTHY | JUNE 26, 2020
My sister and I vacation together in Florida, and we come back sick as dogs. We’re both sneezing and coughing uncontrollably plus feverish chills, but mine’s worse. I get so bad that I lose control of my body so I soil myself, clumps of my hair fall out, and I have hallucinations of shadowy figures. I’m naturally fat but I can’t eat, so my stomach caves in. I drool uncontrollably the time, and I get an earache so bad that I can’t hear anything. Plus, my eyes puff up so much that I can’t see either. Ever been deaf and blind? It’s NOT fun.

I figure I got a bad flu, but it’s never been like this, so I figure I have the flu AND maybe something else. Finally, weeks later, I go the see a doctor, I’ve no insurance but I’m desperate for relief. Over-the-counter medicine does nothing.

I tell the doctor everything, and he runs tests. Flu: negative. Strep throat: negative. Pneumonia: negative.

Doctor: “It must be bronchitis. A mild case of it.”

Me: “A mild case? If this is mild, I don’t want to ever experience a severe case!”

He gave me a prescription for my cough. My sister went, too, and she got a flu diagnosis. She still blames me for giving it to her, even though I told her I didn’t! I lost twenty-five pounds at least.

No Particular Emphasis On “Assisted” Living
ASSISTED LIVING, CALIFORNIA, DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, LAZY/UNHELPFUL, NON-DIALOGUE, NURSES, STUPID, USA | HEALTHY | JUNE 24, 2020
A few years ago, I — a sixty-four-year-old male — had a bad bicycle accident. The damages included a concussion, broken right collarbone, broken right elbow, four broken ribs on my right side, and three fractures in my left pelvis; if you can explain the physics of that, I’m all ears.

Four days in the hospital got me stabilized, but then I needed rehab and was sent to a nursing home. That’s when the fun began.

I was transported to the home at about 6:00 pm. After intake, I struggled for a few hours to find a comfortable position and finally got to sleep, only to be awakened at 11:30 pm (!) to have them take pictures of my bare backside to see if I had bedsores already. Two days later, I was awakened at 4:45 am (!!) because the traveling technician was going to take my blood and wanted to get done early.

I was getting both physical and occupational therapy from the same outsourced company. The routine was to do the PT first at one end of the building and then get wheeled back to my room for the OT. The third day, the occupational therapist was taking me back to my room and one of the physical therapists came with us. The two men were discussing a barbeque they were going to have that weekend.

No problem, except that when we got to my room they stopped in the hallway and talked over me for five minutes. I called out the OT when we were alone; to his credit, he apologized and said that I wasn’t their typical patient, meaning I had no dementia.

I was on a schedule where I was given two assisted showers a week. This wouldn’t have been too bad, except that the home had no air conditioning and we had a heatwave in the nineties the second week. I was waiting for the aide to take me when I noticed five young women hanging around the door to my room. When I asked, they told me they were going to watch my shower as part of their training. I informed them that no, they weren’t, so they waited outside the shower area with my wheelchair.

By that point, I could walk slowly with a cane, so after getting dressed, I limped to my chair with help from the aide. One of the women was standing behind the chair with her hands on the grips. I let go of the cane, grabbed a handrail on the chair, and almost fell on my face as the chair moved out from under me! She hadn’t set the brakes on the wheels and hadn’t held on to the chair. I was lucky there was no damage but it hurt like crazy.

In addition to the therapy for my hip, I needed to wait until the swelling in my broken elbow went down before surgery. When it was ready for the procedure, I went to the hospital having had no food or drink for over twelve hours. I was lying on the gurney about to go into the prep room when I was approached by a young doctor I’d never met. She wanted me to give her permission to perform a “nerve block” on me after the operation. In her telling, this would keep me from feeling pain afterward.

This had not been discussed before, I had no knowledge of what a nerve block entailed, it sounded dangerous, and this person was a total stranger. She was persistent, I’ll give her that, but she finally took the hint when I told her to get the h*** away from me.

The surgery went fine and I had no real discomfort afterward, even to the point where I never filled the prescription for the opioid painkiller I was given. So much for the nerve block. I was not, however, forewarned about another side effect of the anesthesia. It is common that urination is inhibited after the procedure, and by 6:00 pm, I was in real pain.

The nurses’ aides didn’t have the authority to give me a catheter and had to get permission. An hour later, I got my first experience with the process. Then, they took it out. And a few hours later, the pressure built up again.

This time, they didn’t want to put the tube back in; their training said they had to wait four hours. My wife had to yell that she’d take me to the emergency room and file charges against them before they fixed the problem. This time they left it in, and by the following evening, the plumbing worked.

As to the home itself, my stay confirmed my fear of the places, even without a contagion situation. Most of the other long-term residents had some degree of dementia and there was lots of moaning and shouting at all hours. And the food was just as bland as the stereotype; luckily, my wife brought me meals a couple of times a day — including the occasional illicit cold beer.

I got out three days after the elbow surgery and was able to navigate my house, including the stairs, immediately. In another week, I rarely used the cane and have a story for my grandkids.

Harmacist
AUSTRALIA, BAD BEHAVIOR, EMPLOYEES, PHARMACY | WORKING | APRIL 14, 2020
Pharmacist: “[My Name], come here now.“

Me: “*immediately scared knowing I’ve done nothing wrong* “Yes?”

Pharmacist: “Care to explain why you did the stocktake of [Manager]’s area incorrectly and why on [Day I don’t work] the wall display isn’t complete like I asked?”

Me: “Sorry? Well, firstly, I don’t work on [Day] and was not here on [Day], and secondly, the wall display did not get done because, as you would have seen in my note, we had a gentleman come in with a severe concussion, his head was bleeding non-stop, and he was confused and dizzy, so we called an ambulance. [Other Pharmacist] and I were both by ourselves during a busy period so we had to prioritise the customer. By the time we had called the ambulance and assisted the gentleman and paramedics, and cleared the customers who said they were okay to wait and [Other Pharmacist] and I were doing really good and the right thing, it was time to go. [Other Pharmacist] had to leave on time so I was unable to stay back. As you would know, an assistant cannot stay back if there is no pharmacist present.”

Pharmacist: “That is no excuse! Do you have some sort of brain disorder? You should have left the patient and done what you were told! As for the stocktake, everyone else here denies doing it incorrectly. So it must have been you. You must have snuck in without us knowing.”

(I ended up leaving shortly after this incident. This was the last straw from years of bullying. To this day, I’m still scared by the bullying I received from these people)

Unfiltered Story #191460
CALIFORNIA, PHARMACY, USA | UNFILTERED | APRIL 3, 2020
(I am standing AT the register RINGING and BAGGING a customer when another customer walks up to the register)
Customer: “excuse me! Do you work here?!”

Finally, Someone With A Dose Of Sense
CALIFORNIA, PHARMACY, RECEPTION, USA, VET | HEALTHY | APRIL 3, 2020
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

There are certain medications that can be used in both humans and animals, but usually, the dosages are very different. One of these medications is Phenobarbital, a seizure medication. Our office doesn’t keep this medication in stock so we have to call it in to a human pharmacy.

One of our canine patients is on Phenobarbital. He has been stable on his dose for years, but they do not make a pill in the size he needs, so we prescribe him two different sizes to add up to the right amount. Apparently, this is not regularly done with humans, because every time we call in his medication we get a call from the pharmacy to confirm some things. So, we put a note on his file with what to say when they call back.

I am training a new receptionist and have just had her call in his refill authorization. Soon after. we get the expected call from the pharmacist. She has the pharmacy on hold and asks what to do, so I tell her to open his chart and read the script.

New Receptionist: “Hello. Apparently, I have to read this note to you. Yes, he needs both sizes. Yes, at the same time. Yes, we know this is a very large dose for a human, but he is a dog. He is a very large dog. He has been taking the pills like this for years now. Thank you.”

I am sitting there listening to her side of this, fighting the urge to facepalm, and thinking it was pretty obvious that those were meant to be the responses to questions she would be asked and not to be read straight through like that.

The pharmacist says something and she replies:

New Receptionist: “I’m not sure. Um, looks like the note was dated four years ago.” *Pause* “Um, I think so; let me check.” *Turns to me* “Hey, [My Name], have we been saying this every time we call his medication in?”

I nod and she turns back to the phone.

New Receptionist: “Yeah, we have.” *Pause* “Really? That’d probably save everyone some time. Thanks.” *Hangs up* “They are going to put a copy of our note on their computers so they don’t have to keep calling in every time.”

Me: “Wait, they could do that? I thought it was a requirement for them to confirm odd-sounding doses, and that the phone calls were just formalities so they could check a box saying they did it. How did none of them ever notice that we were having the same conversation every four months?”

We no longer get confirmation calls for that patient.

Do Yourself A Service And Leave Service Dogs Alone
BAD BEHAVIOR, PETS & ANIMALS, PHARMACY, STRANGERS, USA, VERMONT | FRIENDLY | MARCH 26, 2020
(I have a service dog for multiple disabilities. I don’t always work with him with any identifying gear because people are more likely to leave us alone if they can’t tell he’s a service dog. In this instance, he is wearing a vest marking him as a service dog. My father and I are running errands after my classes end for the day and I’m entering the store a few minutes after him so that [Service Dog] could relieve himself. As we approach the door, there is a man in his car in the accessible parking spot who sees my service dog and leans out the window of his car.)

Man: “HEY, PUPPY! Come here, puppy!” *makes kissy noises*

Me: *to my service dog* “Leave it.”

(He doesn’t need the reminder, but sometimes people get the hint and leave us alone when I say that. We start to enter the store.)

Man: “WHAT THE F***?! WHAT THE H*** IS WRONG WITH YOU, TAKING A F****** DOG IN A F****** STORE?!”

(Thanks, random man who decided I needed to be screamed at for taking my vested service dog into a store. Also, to make things worse, I was wearing my jacket from my alma mater so, for all he knew, I was a high school student. It’s always adults, too; we never have issues with kids.)

Unfiltered Story #190348
PHARMACY, USA | UNFILTERED | MARCH 22, 2020
So I’m a pharmacy tech working at a pharmacy in a grocery store and usually work the closing shifts during the week along with the other techs as we are all also in school. This happened to one of my coworkers not 5 minutes after he got there.
Patient: I’m here to pick up for [name]
Coworker: Okay let me go get that.
He searches the shelf and it’s not hanging up so he goes and looks it up in the computer.
Coworker: I’m sorry ma’am, it seems we are out of stock on that medication and won’t be able to fill it until tomorrow.
Patient: What!? Why didn’t you guys tell me before??? That medicine is very important I have to get it for my daughter! Why didn’t someone call me?
Coworker: I’m sorry ma’am someone should’ve called you I don’t know why they didn’t.
Patient: Well that’s very unprofessional of you!
She storms off and is heading toward the customer service desk when one of the day techs tells my coworker that she actually did call the number we have for the patient but it was disconnected. She then runs out after the patient with a pen and paper to explain the situation and get a new number. Later in the evening the patient called and asked the tech who answered to tell my coworker she was sorry she yelled at him. So not all raging customers are psychopaths! It was a good reminder

Needs A Further Education In Being A Decent Person
AUSTRALIA, BIGOTRY, BOSSES & OWNERS, COLLEGE & UNIVERSITY, JERK, PHARMACY | LEARNING | MARCH 21, 2020
(I am helping the retail manager to get some things ready for the coming catalogue while we are standing at the checkout between customers, so I decide to start some small talk.)

Me: “How are your kids doing?”

Manager: “They are doing good. My son is getting ready for his year twelve exams.”

Me: “That’s exciting! Does he know what he wants to do after high school?”

Manager: “Not yet, but I told him that if he chooses to go to university, he can stay home. But if he chooses to go to TAFE, he needs to move out.”

(TAFE is “Technical And Further Education.”)

Me: “Why’s what?”

Manager: “Well, I don’t want him to grow up and be a nothing by going to TAFE.”

(The manager looks at me, from head to toe, while saying that.)

Me: “…”

(That got me really angry. Uni does not equal success. I know many people who went to TAFE who are doing a lot better than other people I know who went to uni. I don’t have anything against anyone who choses uni, but it gets me angry when people judge someone in a cold and disrespectful way for choosing TAFE over uni.)

There’s No Need To Behave Like An Animal About It
CRAZY REQUESTS, PHARMACY, USA, VET | HEALTHY | MARCH 19, 2020
(I work as a receptionist for a veterinary hospital. Earlier today, I gave a prescription to a client for a drug that is classified as Schedule II, which means it is considered as having high potential for abuse, so our facility is not licensed to carry it on-site. It can only be picked up from a human pharmacy. Thus, we write prescriptions instead of filling them ourselves at our on-site pharmacy. My first interaction with the client ends like this

Client: “So… what do I do with this?” *holds up prescription*

Me: “You take it to a pharmacy, just as you would with a prescription from your doctor. I would recommend calling around to see which places have it first before going anywhere because not all pharmacies can or do carry it.”

Client: “Can you call the pharmacies for me?” *stares expectantly*

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t. There are dozens of pharmacies in the area, and I have no idea which places have this drug. And unfortunately, I have other clients waiting so I’m not able to set aside that kind of time.”

(She’s not happy with my answer, but she takes the prescription and leaves. Maybe an hour later, I get a call from her.)

Client: “So, can I use my insurance card to pick up the medication?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe that’s legal.”

Client: “But I’m getting the medication from a human pharmacy. Why can’t I use my insurance?”

Me: “Because the medication is for your dog, and the prescription is filled out to reflect that. The pharmacy will be aware it is for a dog, and your insurance only covers you. If you have pet insurance, that may or may not help cover it, but that depends on your plan.”

Client: “Well, I should be able to use it. It’s a pharmacy, not a vet. Why can’t I use it?”

Me: “I’m very sorry, but I’m not sure what else I can do for you. If you have further questions, I can ask the vet to speak with you.”

Client: “No. Never mind!” *hangs up*

Unfiltered Story #190098
CONNECTICUT, PHARMACY, USA | UNFILTERED | MARCH 17, 2020
(A customer walks up to the counter)
Me: Hi are you picking up?
Customer: No, uh, I was just wondering, uh, can I have some aspirin?
Me: Oh I’m sorry, we can’t give out medication.
Customer: (stares blankly)…I’ll give you a dollar.
Me: … I’m sorry sir, we just aren’t allowed to hand out any medication, but there is a travel section that might have a small bottle of it if you want to try that.
Customer: Oh yeah that’s a good idea, yeah. (walks away mumbling how that’s a good idea)

Keep Going Like This And The Gloves Are Off!
CRAZY REQUESTS, JERK, MICHIGAN, PHARMACY, USA | RIGHT | MARCH 16, 2020
(I work in a retail pharmacy in a popular US drug store chain. I’m the pharmacist, so I’m used to answering drug information questions specific to certain meds or recommendations for what products to buy. It’s a busy day, with phones ringing nonstop and a huge backup of prescriptions to process. I hear the phone ring and pick it up.)

Me: “Hi, thanks for calling [Store] pharmacy. How can I help you?”

Caller: “Do you have gloves? For kids? That will fit kids?”

Me: *in pharmacy/medical mode* “Hmm, how big is the child? Most latex or plastic gloves are for adults. Did you need latex gloves?”

Caller: “No, I need kid gloves!” *yells at a child in the background* “For a kid!”

Me: “I’m sorry, we have lots of gloves and I need to know what kind you need in order for me to tell you where to get them.”

Caller: “They’re for kids!”

Me: “I don’t think we have medical gloves for children. What do you need them for?”

Caller: *yelling* “KID GLOVES! Jesus! I always have these problems every place I call! NEVER MIND!”

(It dawned on me after the call that she was probably asking about fabric gloves for cold weather. If she had said that, I would have transferred her to someone who handles our floor stock. Don’t call the pharmacy looking for clothing unless you want to really confuse the pharmacist! It was my mistake, but please help me out with more adjectives than just “kid-sized!”)

She’s Unable To Chew On That
CRAZY REQUESTS, HEALTH & BODY, ITALY, NON-DIALOGUE, PHARMACY | RIGHT | MARCH 16, 2020
I have an acquaintance who has some peculiar views on the world and how it should work. She also has a problem on her mandible that renders chewing difficult for her, but there is a paste that is sold in pharmacies that helps her.

The company that makes this paste has recently changed the formula, and now it tastes like vanilla, and she has already complained that she doesn’t like the taste.

Today, she tells my stepfather and me about her latest feat: she emailed the company asking if they could sell her the old paste, and they explained to her that they don’t sell to the public. She then asked if they could give her the formula so a chemist friend of hers could replicate it, and she received a clear no, obviously.

Both my stepfather and I tried to explain to her that a company has no obligation to keep producing something that she likes, and that drug formulas are copyrighted, so it’s not strange that they refuse to give it to a random lady. After half an hour of trying to explain it we left, but we are sure she wasn’t totally convinced.

It’s not a problem of allergy or anything serious. She is on the warpath because she doesn’t like the taste of a medicine.