A Sixth Sense That It’s The Sixth Month
Australia, Ignoring & Inattentive, Medical Office, Melbourne, Reception, Stupid, Victoria | Healthy | June 21, 2018
(I have a bad cold and need a medical certificate for work. I go to the walk-in clinic in my area, and the receptionist asks for my public health care card. I pass it to her.)
Receptionist: “Do you have a current one?”
Me: “Isn’t that current?”
Receptionist: “It’s expired; I can’t accept it.”
Me: “What? I haven’t gotten a new one yet.”
Receptionist: *she flips it around to show me, and taps on the expiry date*
Me: “Um, that’s not expired.”
Receptionist: *she taps it again*
Me: “That says 07-18.”
Receptionist: “Yep.”
Me: “It’s June.”
Receptionist: “Yep.”
Me: “June is the sixth month.”
Receptionist: “Wait.” *she checks something on her computer* “SO IT IS! Okay, the wait is currently half an hour; take a seat and we will call you when you’re up!”
Me: “Thanks.”
Receptionist: “And keep an eye out in the mail for your new card!”
America: The Land Of The Freely Medicated
Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Nurses, Patients, Silly, USA | Healthy | June 21, 2018
(I consider myself very lucky that I have always been healthy. I was never sick often as a kid, and have no chronic ailments as an adult. Call me crazy, but I generally assumed that was the case for most people unless they had a serious accident, or developed a condition, etc. That is, until recently, when I check into the hospital for a minor procedure. Nothing is wrong; this is a procedure having to do with fertility. My mom goes with me the morning of my appointment and is sitting by my bed while I fill out the final pre-surgery forms and get set up with the IV, etc. Over the course of the next half-hour, I have only slightly different versions of the same conversation with every nurse and doctor who comes to check on me
Nurse #1 : *checks my chart* “I see here your only medication is birth control?”
Doctor #2 : “Birth control is the only thing you take?”
Me: *turning to my mom after the last doctor leaves* “Are they being really, really thorough, or do we just live in a very unhealthy area?”
Mom: “When I had surgery last year only two people asked me about the medicines I take. It seems strange to me, too, and you’re so young! What do they expect you to be taking?”
(The procedure goes fine, and soon I’m waking up from the anesthesia.)
Mom: “Hi, honey.”
Nurse #5 : “Hi there, [My Name]! You did great!” *checks my chart* “Are you really only taking birth control, and nothing else?”
Me: *slurred and groggy* “Seriously?! How unhealthy did you expect me to be?!”
Surely Those Kinds Of Sports Are More Downstairs?
Coffee Shop, Health & Body, Rude & Risque, UK, Wales | Healthy | June 20, 2018
(A few months ago I had a stupid sport accident resulting in a hurt knee. To fight this, I wear a knee support. It’s a brand professional athletes use; it’s bright blue and covers my leg from mid-calf to mid-thigh. A regular about the same age as my grandfather comes into the café where I work and sees my leg.)
Regular: “What happened to you?”
Me: “Sport trauma.” *it’s the fastest and least descriptive way to say it*
Regular: “Oh, too much upstairs sports, is that right?”
Signing Your Health Away
Bad Behavior, Hospital, Silly, South Carolina, USA | Healthy | June 20, 2018
(My uncle just had surgery and is telling me about it.)
Uncle: “They told me, because the painkillers mess with your head, to wait 24 hours before making any important decisions or signing any legal documents.”
An Underreaction To An Overreaction
Bad Behavior, Home, Israel, Non-Dialogue, Parents/Guardians, Patients | Healthy | June 20, 2018
When I was in elementary school, my parents had an obsessive conviction that I must never be allowed to stay home alone during summer vacation, even though they were perfectly fine with letting me stay home alone on a regular basis during the school year.
They always signed me up for every single multi-week summer “camp” available, the ones where kids go or are bused somewhere in the morning and return in the afternoon, like with school.
This happens when I’m about 11. My parents both work, so they’ve signed me up for a camp where kids spend the whole day in a water-park, mostly under the sun non-stop, wearing only swimsuits.
One night before bedtime, Mom plugs some kind of new bug-repelling device she’s just bought into an electric outlet in my bedroom.
When I wake up, I’m covered head to toe in large, swollen, red, and extremely itchy hives. They are absolutely everywhere. I look like a horror movie monster and can’t stop scratching.
Mom examines me, and declares that it must be “just” an allergic response to the bug repellent, and that it is “not a big deal.” I must still go to camp as usual. She doesn’t even try to put any kind of lotion on me or do anything.
I protest having to go anywhere in this condition, as I feel terrible and look frightening.
Mom insists, and derides me for being a baby and whining. She repeats that it’s clearly not a big deal.
It’s clear to me that she just wants to go to work as usual, doesn’t want to be bothered today with taking an ill child to a doctor, and still refuses to let me stay home on my own despite me being too sick to go out. But there’s nothing I can do about it.
Being at the water-park is awful. The chemicals in all the pools and being in the hot sun all irritate and inflame the hives further. As nearly my entire body is exposed in the swimsuit, all the other children look at me with contempt and disgust. Pointing and whispering quickly begins, and I become the target of relentless teasing.
There are very few adults around, and none of them notice or care about anyone being unwell unless they’re clearly dying; most of them are either lifeguards at the pools or people handing out our lunches and snacks, so anything outside that just isn’t their problem.
I spend the entire day absolutely unable to stop scratching everywhere and utterly miserable, while worrying that I have some awful disease — I’ve never had allergic reactions before in my life.
When I finally get home, my mom seems terribly surprised that the hives haven’t gotten any better and that I feel awful.
After some lengthy discussion, it’s decided they’ll actually let me see a doctor. Tomorrow. And Dad will be the one to take off work to take me.
The next day by midday the hives have finally began to partially reduce in size… as I haven’t been sent to a freaking water park today. The doctor I’m taken to says that it is in fact clearly an allergic reaction; most likely to that bug repellent device. And that I clearly should be kept in cool and dry conditions until it goes away: no more sun, chemicals, and dampness. And no more chemical bug repellents in my room.
My parents very begrudgingly allow me to stay home for a day or two after that. I can only remain grateful that this is the only time in my childhood I have had any kind of allergic reaction; otherwise, there’s even odds I’d be dead now.
Thanks so much, Mom, for your entire handling of this situation; your caring and consideration of my health will always stay in my heart.
An Underreaction To An Overreaction
Bad Behavior, Home, Israel, Non-Dialogue, Parents/Guardians, Patients | Healthy | June 20, 2018
When I was in elementary school, my parents had an obsessive conviction that I must never be allowed to stay home alone during summer vacation, even though they were perfectly fine with letting me stay home alone on a regular basis during the school year.
They always signed me up for every single multi-week summer “camp” available, the ones where kids go or are bused somewhere in the morning and return in the afternoon, like with school.
This happens when I’m about 11. My parents both work, so they’ve signed me up for a camp where kids spend the whole day in a water-park, mostly under the sun non-stop, wearing only swimsuits.
One night before bedtime, Mom plugs some kind of new bug-repelling device she’s just bought into an electric outlet in my bedroom.
When I wake up, I’m covered head to toe in large, swollen, red, and extremely itchy hives. They are absolutely everywhere. I look like a horror movie monster and can’t stop scratching.
Mom examines me, and declares that it must be “just” an allergic response to the bug repellent, and that it is “not a big deal.” I must still go to camp as usual. She doesn’t even try to put any kind of lotion on me or do anything.
I protest having to go anywhere in this condition, as I feel terrible and look frightening.
Mom insists, and derides me for being a baby and whining. She repeats that it’s clearly not a big deal.
It’s clear to me that she just wants to go to work as usual, doesn’t want to be bothered today with taking an ill child to a doctor, and still refuses to let me stay home on my own despite me being too sick to go out. But there’s nothing I can do about it.
Being at the water-park is awful. The chemicals in all the pools and being in the hot sun all irritate and inflame the hives further. As nearly my entire body is exposed in the swimsuit, all the other children look at me with contempt and disgust. Pointing and whispering quickly begins, and I become the target of relentless teasing.
There are very few adults around, and none of them notice or care about anyone being unwell unless they’re clearly dying; most of them are either lifeguards at the pools or people handing out our lunches and snacks, so anything outside that just isn’t their problem.
I spend the entire day absolutely unable to stop scratching everywhere and utterly miserable, while worrying that I have some awful disease — I’ve never had allergic reactions before in my life.
When I finally get home, my mom seems terribly surprised that the hives haven’t gotten any better and that I feel awful.
After some lengthy discussion, it’s decided they’ll actually let me see a doctor. Tomorrow. And Dad will be the one to take off work to take me.
The next day by midday the hives have finally began to partially reduce in size… as I haven’t been sent to a freaking water park today. The doctor I’m taken to says that it is in fact clearly an allergic reaction; most likely to that bug repellent device. And that I clearly should be kept in cool and dry conditions until it goes away: no more sun, chemicals, and dampness. And no more chemical bug repellents in my room.
My parents very begrudgingly allow me to stay home for a day or two after that. I can only remain grateful that this is the only time in my childhood I have had any kind of allergic reaction; otherwise, there’s even odds I’d be dead now.
Thanks so much, Mom, for your entire handling of this situation; your caring and consideration of my health will always stay in my heart.
Trying In Vein
Medical Office, Nurses, Patients, Silly, USA, Utah | Healthy | June 19, 2018
(My mom has notoriously small veins, which I have inherited. This happens while I’m getting my blood drawn. My dad is there with me.)
Nurse: *seems to be having trouble finding a vein, tries looking in many different places* “Okay, I think we’re going to end up taking from your hand rather than your arm, because that might be the only place that it will work.”
Dad: “[My Name], do you have really small veins like Mom?”
Thanks For Injuring Yourself; Come Back Soon!
Family & Kids, Home, Michigan, Patients, Siblings, Silly, USA | Healthy | June 19, 2018
(My family has always been accident-prone, especially my brother and me. When he gets married and they start having a family, I decide to warn my sister-in-law.)
Me: “Are you sure you want to do this? Just so you know, my brother has the Mother’s Curse. ‘May you have children like yourself so you know what it’s like.’”
Sister-In-Law: “Oh, it’s worse than that. I have the Mother’s Curse, too. So it’s doubled!
(Fast forward several years and four kids later. At a family gathering, my sister-in-law explains all of the times in the last year that her children have been in Urgent Care from accidental injuries.)
Sister: *referring to my experience after an injury that required repeated medical interventions* “Well, as long as the ER nurses don’t know you by name, I think you’re doing just fine.”
Sister-In-Law: “Well, they don’t know us by name, but they sort of recognize us now.”
(On a later date, my brother is joking with our father
Brother: “Last time we took a kid in, I told the intake nurse, ‘[Family Name], party of six. We have a reservation?’”
(And recently, after a particularly eventful month
Signing Your Health Away
Bad Behavior, Hospital, Silly, South Carolina, USA | Healthy | June 20, 2018
(My uncle just had surgery and is telling me about it.)
Uncle: “They told me, because the painkillers mess with your head, to wait 24 hours before making any important decisions or signing any legal documents.”
An Underreaction To An Overreaction
Bad Behavior, Home, Israel, Non-Dialogue, Parents/Guardians, Patients | Healthy | June 20, 2018
When I was in elementary school, my parents had an obsessive conviction that I must never be allowed to stay home alone during summer vacation, even though they were perfectly fine with letting me stay home alone on a regular basis during the school year.
They always signed me up for every single multi-week summer “camp” available, the ones where kids go or are bused somewhere in the morning and return in the afternoon, like with school.
This happens when I’m about 11. My parents both work, so they’ve signed me up for a camp where kids spend the whole day in a water-park, mostly under the sun non-stop, wearing only swimsuits.
One night before bedtime, Mom plugs some kind of new bug-repelling device she’s just bought into an electric outlet in my bedroom.
When I wake up, I’m covered head to toe in large, swollen, red, and extremely itchy hives. They are absolutely everywhere. I look like a horror movie monster and can’t stop scratching.
Mom examines me, and declares that it must be “just” an allergic response to the bug repellent, and that it is “not a big deal.” I must still go to camp as usual. She doesn’t even try to put any kind of lotion on me or do anything.
I protest having to go anywhere in this condition, as I feel terrible and look frightening.
Mom insists, and derides me for being a baby and whining. She repeats that it’s clearly not a big deal.
It’s clear to me that she just wants to go to work as usual, doesn’t want to be bothered today with taking an ill child to a doctor, and still refuses to let me stay home on my own despite me being too sick to go out. But there’s nothing I can do about it.
Being at the water-park is awful. The chemicals in all the pools and being in the hot sun all irritate and inflame the hives further. As nearly my entire body is exposed in the swimsuit, all the other children look at me with contempt and disgust. Pointing and whispering quickly begins, and I become the target of relentless teasing.
There are very few adults around, and none of them notice or care about anyone being unwell unless they’re clearly dying; most of them are either lifeguards at the pools or people handing out our lunches and snacks, so anything outside that just isn’t their problem.
I spend the entire day absolutely unable to stop scratching everywhere and utterly miserable, while worrying that I have some awful disease — I’ve never had allergic reactions before in my life.
When I finally get home, my mom seems terribly surprised that the hives haven’t gotten any better and that I feel awful.
After some lengthy discussion, it’s decided they’ll actually let me see a doctor. Tomorrow. And Dad will be the one to take off work to take me.
The next day by midday the hives have finally began to partially reduce in size… as I haven’t been sent to a freaking water park today. The doctor I’m taken to says that it is in fact clearly an allergic reaction; most likely to that bug repellent device. And that I clearly should be kept in cool and dry conditions until it goes away: no more sun, chemicals, and dampness. And no more chemical bug repellents in my room.
My parents very begrudgingly allow me to stay home for a day or two after that. I can only remain grateful that this is the only time in my childhood I have had any kind of allergic reaction; otherwise, there’s even odds I’d be dead now.
Thanks so much, Mom, for your entire handling of this situation; your caring and consideration of my health will always stay in my heart.
A Hole Lot Of Guessing
Health & Body, Home, Parents/Guardians, Slovenia | Healthy | June 19, 2018
(I am a type-one diabetic and have been for 18 years. I am using an insulin pump, and to give myself correct amount of insulin, I have to calculate the amount of carbohydrates I have eaten. Note that carbohydrates represent a half of the weight of a piece of bread. This happens when I come home from school with hypoglycaemia when I’m 11.)
Dad: “What have you eaten today? Did you give yourself the right amount of insulin?”
Me: “Well, I ate a piece of bread and gave myself insulin for a third of its weight.”
Trying In Vein
Medical Office, Nurses, Patients, Silly, USA, Utah | Healthy | June 19, 2018
(My mom has notoriously small veins, which I have inherited. This happens while I’m getting my blood drawn. My dad is there with me.)
Nurse: *seems to be having trouble finding a vein, tries looking in many different places* “Okay, I think we’re going to end up taking from your hand rather than your arm, because that might be the only place that it will work.”
Dad: “[My Name], do you have really small veins like Mom?”
Thanks For Injuring Yourself; Come Back Soon!
Family & Kids, Home, Michigan, Patients, Siblings, Silly, USA | Healthy | June 19, 2018
(My family has always been accident-prone, especially my brother and me. When he gets married and they start having a family, I decide to warn my sister-in-law.)
Me: “Are you sure you want to do this? Just so you know, my brother has the Mother’s Curse. ‘May you have children like yourself so you know what it’s like.’”
Sister-In-Law: “Oh, it’s worse than that. I have the Mother’s Curse, too. So it’s doubled!
(Fast forward several years and four kids later. At a family gathering, my sister-in-law explains all of the times in the last year that her children have been in Urgent Care from accidental injuries.)
Sister: *referring to my experience after an injury that required repeated medical interventions* “Well, as long as the ER nurses don’t know you by name, I think you’re doing just fine.”
Sister-In-Law: “Well, they don’t know us by name, but they sort of recognize us now.”
(On a later date, my brother is joking with our father
Brother: “Last time we took a kid in, I told the intake nurse, ‘[Family Name], party of six. We have a reservation?’”
(And recently, after a particularly eventful month
The Jaws Of Defeat
Canada, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Nurses, Ontario | Healthy | June 18, 2018
(I just had jaw surgery, so I am in the hospital for a few days with a swollen face, and my jaw is wired shut. I really can’t speak. I wake up in the middle of the night. My sister is sleeping in the guest chair, but I can feel the pain easing in on my face, so I decide to hail the nurse using a button on the side of the bed. Instead of the nurse coming to see what I need, she proceeds to use the speaker attachment. You can probably see where this is going.)
This Patient Is Not A Breath Of Fresh Air
Bizarre, California, Medical Office, Patients, USA | Healthy | June 18, 2018
(I work at a large, multi-specialty medical office. Access to the back office is restricted, so patients are guided to their rooms by me or by another nurse after they check in. After their appointment, there are signs showing the patients the way out, but unsurprisingly, many ignore them and get lost. My coworker finds a woman wandering the halls.)
Coworker: “Were you looking for the exit? Let me show you the way.”
Woman: “No, I… I’m here to see the pulmonologist.”
(It turns out the woman had never actually checked in, and had just followed another patient into the back office when they were called back! My coworkers and I wondered if she thought she was just going to stumble upon the pulmonologist waiting for her in one of the rooms!)
Hopefully That’s The Exception And Not The Rule
Hospital, Patients, Pennsylvania, Revolting, Rude & Risque, Stupid, USA | Healthy | June 18, 2018
(I work the night shift in an ER as a doctor.)
Me: “You say you have something stuck up your rectum?”
Patient: “Yep. It’s a flexible rubber ruler.”
Me: “How did it get there?”
Patient: “I intentionally put it there.”
(I’m little surprised, because usually in cases like this they try to make it seem like it happened by accident when it very obviously didn’t.)
Me: “Why did you put it there?”
Patient: “I wanted to see how far it goes. Apparently, it’s deeper than a foot.”
Me: “Okay… Well, we’ll see about having that removed.”
Patient: “Can I have it back when it’s out? My son needs it for school.”
Third-Degree Burns, First-Degree Idiot
Florida, Health & Body, Hotel, Stupid, USA | Healthy | June 17, 2018
(I’m working the evening shift at a hotel with the owner one evening when a young couple, who checked in earlier, approaches the desk.)
Young Man: “Would it be possible to get a slice of cheesecake and some matches for a candle? We’re celebrating her birthday today.”
Me: “Sure thing, and happy birthday to you.”
(I prepare the cheesecake and grab some matches, and they then go to their room. About five minutes later, they come back with his arm wrapped in a shirt.)
Young Woman: “We need directions to the nearest hospital. He has burned his arm. There is also a little bit of smoke in the room, currently.”
(The owner gives them directions to the local hospital and sends me up to check on everything. When I get to the floor, I see some smoke in the hallway. Then, I open the door to find the room is barely visible due to there being so much smoke in the room. I go get the owner as the fire alarm starts to go off. Everyone evacuates the building and the fire department shows up as we are trying to clear all the smoke out.)
Me: “All this from one candle? What did they do, drop the cake?”
Owner: “Actually, it turns out the ‘candles’ they were using were actually sparklers. Not a good idea in a small room.”
(We found out later he had to be taken to a burn hospital and treated for third-degree burns.)
Might Have To Come Back Anyway For Stress
Delivery, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, USA | Healthy | June 16, 2018
(I work at the main information desk of a hospital. A fast-food delivery man comes inside with a bag of food.)
Delivery Man: “Is this the front desk?”
Me: “Yes, it is!”
Delivery Man: “Great. I’ve got an order for [Customer]. Their instructions said to meet them at the front desk, and they just got a text saying I’m here. I’m going to wait for them to come down, okay?”
Me: “That’s fine.”
(Several minutes go by. No one comes down. The delivery man begins to get irritated.)
Delivery Man: “You’re sure this is the front desk?”
Me: “Yes, sir. There are other desks in [departments], but this is the main, front information desk.”
Delivery Man: “Well, why isn’t [Customer] here?!”
Me: “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know. Do you know if they’re a patient or a visitor?”
(The delivery man is now on his phone and not paying attention to me.)
Delivery Man: “I just don’t understand! My instructions say to meet [Name] at the front desk of [Brand] Inn!”
Me: “I’m sorry, did you say the [Brand] Inn?”
Delivery Man: “Yeah.”
Me: “That’s a hotel.”
Delivery Man: “Yeah.”
Me: “This is a hospital.”
(He looks around, apparently noticing the “TO EMERGENCY ROOM” sign, the pharmacy, and the several rows of wheelchairs around my desk for the very first time.)
Delivery Man: “CRAP!”
(He runs out of the lobby, leaving the drinks from the meal behind. He returns about five minutes later, grabs them, and runs out without saying anything. About two hours later, he returns with another order.)
Delivery Man: *sheepishly* “I’m in the right place this time. I checked.”
Me: “That’s good!”
Delivery Man: “Is [Man] here?”
(I look around. There are no men in the lobby.)
Me: “Sorry, I guess not.”
Delivery Man: “What?! My instructions say [Man] is waiting in the Women and Infants Services lobby! He’s supposed to already be here!”
Me: “Well… The Women and Infants Services lobby is down that hallway to the right, actually. This is the front lobby—”
Delivery Man: “So I’m in the wrong spot again?”
Me: “Well, the wrong department—”
Delivery Man: “G**d*** it! I thought this job would be easy!”
(He stormed out of the lobby and stomped off to the correct department. At least this time he remembered his drinks!)
Don’t Even Start With Me
Laboratory, Stupid, Switzerland, Tech Support | Healthy | June 15, 2018
(I work in IT for a medical laboratory, and part of my job is to troubleshoot connections between medical devices and our software. The medical devices themselves are not ours to manage, however. I get this call one morning
Lab Tech: “Hi, my machine is not working. Could you help me, please?”
Me: “Sure! What device, and what seems to be wrong?”
Lab Tech: “It’s [Device], and I don’t know; it’s just doing nothing.”
Me: “Okay, let me check.”
(I see nothing wrong with my monitoring. However, our connectors have a tendency to need regular reboots, as they’re quite old and tend to give us trouble, so I’m expecting it to be something wrong with our equipment.)
Me: “Can you please reboot the connector? The one behind your machine.”
Lab Tech: “Sure, give me a sec.”
(My monitoring starts showing its usual shutdown and boot-up messages.)
Me: “Okay, looks good. Can you try the device again?”
Lab Tech: “Nope, still nothing.”
(I try every trick in the book to get the device to work, including having her reboot the medical device itself, which is kind of a last solution, since they’re not ours to troubleshoot. Nothing ever seems wrong on my end, but the lab tech still says it’s not working. This goes on for FIVE HOURS! I’m way past desperation point, when I ask her to walk me through every step of her process to see where exactly it hangs.)
Lab Tech: “Well, I put my samples in the tray…” *pause*
Me: “Yes, and then?”
Lab Tech: “Well, that’s supposed to be it…” *pause* “Oh, wait… I didn’t press the start button.” *pause, then my monitoring starts flooding with orders* “Now it’s working.”
Me: *screaming internally but somehow managing to keep my cool* “Well, there you go. Have a nice day.” *hangs up*
Weak In The Knees
Australia, Doctor/Physician, Medical Office, Patients, Perth, Western Australia | Healthy | June 14, 2018
(I have gone to my general practitioner to get a referral to a specialist for endometriosis. My regular GP is a middle-aged, Singaporean man, but I don’t mind having male doctors for female issues.)
Me: “I’m seeing [Specialist] for endometriosis, and I need a referral.”
GP: “You realise that you’ll have to have surgery to know for sure?”
Me: “Yes, I have a family history.”
GP: “Okay, I just have to make sure that you have a reason to go. Do you have painful periods?”
Me: “Yes, definitely.”
GP: “So, it hurts in your abdomen region? Is it cramping, or other pain?”
Me: “Actually, my knees hurt.”
GP: “Come again?”
Me: “I get pain from my knees up during my period. But it’s worst in my knees.”
GP: “Really?” *chuckles* “All right, just give me a minute to write that referral.”
(I honestly hadn’t realised how weird it was, before that. I did end up having endometriosis — it turned out the knee pain was nerve damage from that.)
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