Health Care stories

Medical Science Has No Cure For That Condition
Medical Office, Patients, Sports, UK | Healthy | July 7, 2019
I recently joined a social group which runs an indoor football session each week. With it being a regular thing, the guys all know each other, while I am new to the group.

Towards the end of the hour, everyone is getting tired and sweaty, and this tends to make people stop paying attention. One guy attempts to showboat, so when I go in and tackle him, he doesn’t see me and ends up standing awkwardly on my foot and going down. Less Messi, more Suarez…

He starts wailing about how he has badly hurt his foot, and everyone stops and swarms him, asking him if he is okay. Meanwhile, I’m having flashbacks to seven years ago where I received a high ankle sprain from a similar incident.

I end up escorting him to the walk-in clinic across the road from the sports centre, along with his girlfriend. When we get there, I explain the situation to the receptionist, who puts his details into the system. Throughout all of this, he continues to wail about how he is in so much pain from his foot, to the point where he can’t concentrate enough to give information. It should be noted that the social group caters to people with conditions like ADHD for the other guy, and the autistic spectrum for all three of us. It should also be noted that of the three, I actually have technical medical knowledge, so can act as translator for “doctor speak” for the others.

After ninety minutes of waiting, as well as a physical examination and five x-rays, the doctor confirms two things: that there is nothing physically wrong with his foot — he just overextended and put unnecessary pressure on the outside of his foot when he stepped on me — and that this guy is a ”gigantic” hypochondriac, to mine and the girlfriend’s utter amusement.

The doctor takes it in stride, saying that unfortunately, they don’t have medication to fix the latter, but a bit of ice and elevation will help with the former. Cue the chuckles all round the following week!

Switcheroo Boo Boo
Colorado, Denver, Jerk, Patients, Stupid, USA, Vet | Healthy | July 5, 2019
(A client walks in with her dog. Since I recognize the client, I print out a confirmation sheet, just asking to check the accuracy of all of her information, such as the spelling of her name, address, phone number, and email address.)

Client: *with a BIG smile on her face* “I pulled a switcheroo on you guys!” *gestures to her dog* “This is Linus, not Ella; Linus is having ear troubles. Also, I will only be boarding Buttons with you, not Ella or Linus, so we don’t need to have Ella in for her exam and vaccines.”

Me: *strained smile* “All righty, then. You said that Linus is having trouble with his ears, so let’s get you into a room.”

(Seriously, if you have two children and you set up an appointment for an annual well-check with the pediatrician for one child, would you not only switch the child that you are bringing in, but change the reason for the visit, and not bother telling the doctor’s office what you are doing? If not, why do you think it is okay to do that to a vet?)

This Specialist Is Out For Blood
College & University, Croatia, Hospital, Patients, Pranks, Students | Healthy | July 4, 2019
A couple of weeks ago, I was working in the cardiology department and the topic of conversation between me, another medical student, and a specialist somehow drifted towards practical exams. The specialist suddenly asked us if we knew how to fail a student. Neither of us knew what she had in mind, so we shook our heads.

Then, she explained.

First, find a patient with LVAD — a mechanical implantable pump that assists the heart with pumping blood in heart failure; due to how the pump works, the patient has no palpatable pulse. And then, you give the student a regular blood-pressure monitor and instruct them to take their pulse and blood pressure.

Those poor students.

There’s No Easy Way To Pad Out This Conversation
Hospital, Jerk, Nurses, Texas, USA | Healthy | July 2, 2019
(I’m small and only 16, so I am required to go to the children’s hospital. My parents leave me alone overnight. I’ve been admitted for a possible reemergence of a serious issue, so I’m obviously not allowed to run down to the corner store or anything like that.)

Me: “Excuse me, do you have pads?”

Female Nurse: *freezes*

Me: “You know, for… monthly things?”

Female Nurse: “I… I’m sorry, sweetie, what?”

Me: “I’m bleeding, so I need pads.”

Female Nurse: “I’ll check.”

(She practically runs out of the room. I watch her talk to three others, all with mortified expressions on their faces. Finally, she comes back.)

Female Nurse: “Here you go, sweetie. But this is a children’s hospital, so you need to tell your mother that we don’t have those kinds of things here, okay? Have her bring you some in the morning.”

Me: “But I’ve had this since I was ten…”

Female Nurse: *sputters* “Well, ten isn’t really a child, now is it?” *runs off*

A Boy Diagnosing A Boy
Australia, Children, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, New South Wales | Healthy | July 1, 2019
(My three-year-old son has just spent a week in hospital following surgery on his elbow. The team of doctors has done their rounds and the consultant has left his young resident — who looks about twenty — to give us our final instructions for discharge.)

Me: “So, is he going to need rehab or physiotherapy? Or is he right to resume all his regular activity?”

Resident: “Yeah, he’s fine to do everything a normal, healthy three-year-old boy does. No worries.”

Me: *very happy, as getting this child to be still and rest in hospital all week has been no easy feat* “Great! So, running, jumping, climbing trees, sandpit, and playground is all okay?”

Resident: “Oh, no! He can’t do any of that!”

Me: “So, what, exactly, is it that you think a normal, healthy three-year-old boy does?”

Kids Will Make Liars Of You Every Time
California, Children, Doctor/Physician, Los Angeles, Medical Office, Patients, USA | Healthy | June 30, 2019
(My daughter, around three or four years old, is acting increasingly lethargic, so I take her to urgent care. As always, there is a long wait and she steadily gets more and more bored and restless until the doctor finally comes in. The doctor looks at her and then at me.)

Doctor: “Okay, what brings you here tonight?”

Me: “My daughter has become really lethargic.”

(My daughter can’t sit still anymore and gets up.)

Doctor: “Hi, honey. Can you jump around a little for me?”

(My daughter goes wild, pogo-ing around the room.)

Me: “She wasn’t like this at home! I am so sorry I’ve wasted your time.”

Doctor: “Eh, that’s okay. To be honest, I’m a pediatric specialist. I’m just working here to make a little extra money. Most of my patients die. It’s really nice for me to see a healthy kid.”

(We shook hands and he walked out. This was almost 20 years ago, and I’ve never forgotten how quickly my embarrassment was replaced with sadness.)

Vitamin “Duh”
Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, Oregon, USA | Healthy | June 28, 2019
(I receive a message from my primary physician.)

Doctor #1 : “Your vitamin D is low, but all your other lab results are fine.”

(Later, I go to a doctor who specializes in some of my chronic illnesses. She looks at the lab results herself.)

Doctor #2 : “Your vitamin D is very low, and you’re borderline anemic.”

Me: “What?! My other doctor didn’t tell me that!”

Doctor #2 : “Well, you’re technically in the normal range for children, but just barely. You’re almost 18 and you’re way below the threshold for adults. Plus, with your chronic illness, you need even more iron than the average person. This isn’t nearly enough. Let’s get you started on an iron supplement.”

(Just because the numbers are within range — by a single point! — it doesn’t mean they’re anywhere close to ideal, doctors.)

Vitamin “Ewww”
Bizarre, Health & Body, Pennsylvania, Pittsburgh, Retail, Revolting, USA | Healthy | June 27, 2019
(I am working in the beauty and health section when a woman comes up asking for vitamin E oil. I take her over there before I begin my safety speech.)

Me: “Just so you know, despite this being in the vitamin section and a liquid, you do not ingest it. This is for topical use only.”

Customer: “I know, dear. I need it for my hand. Look.”

(She proceeds to show me her hand where, not only can I see bone exposed, but her thumb is literally hanging almost detached from the hand.)

Me: “I’m not sure if this will work on that. Have you seen a dermatologist yet?”

Customer: “No, not yet, but I need something to help heal my skin up, and I heard this should help. Thank you.”

(I’m not sure how she was not more alarmed by the state of her hand but I made sure to wash my hands after, just in case it was some sort of virus.)

Gordon Was Their Glue
Assisted Living, Coworkers, Technology, UK | Working | May 11, 2021
Gordon was a janitor, odd-job man, and general get-things-done man at a care facility for vulnerable adults and the elderly. He was happy, friendly, cheerful, and competent, kept the infrastructure running well, and kept the place spick and span. Basically, he was really good at his job and went above and beyond as the necessity presented itself.

Come the day when the place was computerised. The requirement was now that he book all his activities on a computerised timesheet, for which he had to have a computer of his own or a mobile phone. Gordon did not have a computer and didn’t have the most up-to-date phone; all he needed to do was to take phone calls, which he managed perfectly well with his old model.

This latest requirement gave him a lot of trouble. He managed to get around it by being allowed to use one of the computers in the office, which was not part of his domain, and he felt socially awkward in there. Not only was it a complicated, fiddly, and awkwardly buggy piece of software — it used to crash when you didn’t enter the operations in the correct order — but Gordon did not take easily to learning how to use a computer. Equally unfortunately, there was nobody in the facility who was skilled in training a technological newcomer, and he was getting shouted at plenty, so of course, he found himself shouting back.

It didn’t end well. He was given an ultimatum: shape up or ship out. He was close to retirement anyway, so he took that early retirement and shipped out before the facility had even begun to think about getting his replacement trained up. They were forced to rely completely on the agency staff who had been used on a temporary basis on the occasions when Gordon was on leave. While competent enough at general janitorial duties, such temporary staff were nowhere near familiar enough with the facility to know how to keep it running properly, and things started progressively breaking down and not getting properly repaired, and of course, it turned out that Gordon had contacts in the trade where he would call specific people to get various repairs done. Without Gordon’s happy smiling presence, coupled with the increasingly shabby and ill-maintained infrastructure, morale plummeted, and staff started to drift away. Hence, they started failing inspections, and in due course, the facility closed. I’m not sure what happened to the residents; I believe they were shunted off to other establishments.

The Hits Just Keep On Coming
Assisted Living, Bosses & Owners, Canada, Coworkers, Health & Body, Jerk | Working | March 12, 2021
A few years ago, I suffered a concussion at work. I had clipped the lid of a plastic recycling bin on a door handle and, due to the force I was shoving it with, managed to have the lid flip back on my head with enough force that it broke my glasses.

The first problem occurred four hours after the incident. I was still at work because we always had staffing issues and didn’t want to screw them up. I talked to my manager.

Me: “Hey, my head is still pounding and I am dizzy. I need to go home.”

He proceeded to SLAM his clipboard down and walk away. I went home.

A few days later, I got my concussion diagnosis and proceeded to take a few months off. Eventually, I managed to get into a concussion clinic where they started helping me through dealing with the pain.

I had a pair of friends working there. The second issue I had was that they let me know that management and other staff members didn’t believe me because, “You can’t get a concussion from plastic.” I was pretty upset about that and was considering whether it was worth going back if they didn’t believe I had been injured over the last few months.

The third issue occurred one day when I lost a filling. I skipped my shift so I could get it fixed instead. Where I live, when you get injured at work, you are given a caseworker and they review your case, make sure you are doing what you need to do, etc. He called me and said that I was under review for not being injured; they had gotten calls that I was okay, and me missing my shift that day was a red flag. I burst into tears.

That was the last straw. After I finished my next shift, I handed my resignation in to that job. Just because you can’t see an injury doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, and the workers essentially bullied me out of there.

I found out a year later that my replacement had a heck of a time trying to do my job because, apparently, I did more stuff than they realized, and then they bullied her out, too. I’m unsurprised that the building still has a high turnover.

Your Ability To Accept Help Is Useless
Assisted Living, Impossible Demands, Michigan, USA | Right | March 9, 2021
I answer the phone, as I do hundreds of times a day. The caller sounds to be in her thirties or forties.

Me: “Good morning, [Business]; this is [My Name].”

Caller: *Silence*

Me: “Hello?”

Caller: “Oh… uh… Who is this?”

Me: “[My Name] at [Business].”

Caller: “Is this the assisted living place at [Hospital about twenty miles away]?”

Me: “No, this is [Business]. We’re not associated with [Hospital].”

Caller: “Oh… Can you transfer me to them?”

Me: “I’m sorry, no. We’re not associated with them. I have no way to do that. I could—”

Caller: “Well, you’re just no help at all!” *Hangs up*

I was going to offer to Google the correct number for them, but some people just can’t be helped.

What Did Grandpa Do?
Assisted Living, Funny, Golden Years, Illinois, USA | Right | February 27, 2021
I work at the reception desk at a retirement center. We frequently receive calls from confused/sundowning elderly people trying to contact friends or family who live in the facility.

Me: *Answering the phone* “Good morning! This is [Facility] how may I help you?”

There is no answer, only the sound of shuffling and button pressing.

Me: *Louder* “Hello? Hello, this is [Facility]. May I help you?”

There was more button pressing, and then in the background, there was a sudden, scandalized cry of, “GRANDPA, NO!” before the call abruptly disconnected.

This Will Make You Sto-Mad
Assisted Living, Lazy/Unhelpful, Nurses, Patients, Revolting, The Netherlands | Healthy | June 26, 2019
(I work as a trainee in a care home. I’ve been there just three days. This is my second traineeship, which will teach me specific nursing skills, like inserting a bladder catheter, stoma care, wound care, etc. It’s afternoon and I’m working with two coworkers who aren’t happy with me being there. Normally, they’d sit in the staffroom telling trainees what to do, but since this is my third day, I haven’t got a clue as to what to do exactly, which means that they need to show me. An alarm call comes in from the apartment of a married couple. We go there to see what’s wrong. When we get through the front door, the smell of faeces hits us. Going through to the living room the smell gets worse. We find the husband, who has Alzheimer’s, nearly in tears. He points us to the bathroom where we find his wife, sitting on a stool, covered from her shoulders to her knees in faeces. She has managed to partly undress and it’s immediately clear that her stoma bag has exploded.)

Coworker #1 : “Yeah, not dealing with this!”

Coworker #2 : “Me, neither!”

(And they both just leave. I can’t believe what I’ve just witnessed. When the woman sees them leave and sees me, she starts bawling her eyes out. I know she hasn’t had her stoma for long and she’s only seen me once, this morning, when I asked her if I could watch her stoma care and help her. She knows I haven’t handled anything like this before.)

Me: “All right, let’s get you undressed.”

(I peek around the door and ask her husband to grab five towels, two bin-bags, and underwear for his wife. To my amazement, he comes back with exactly what I asked for a short while later.)

Patient: “You never did this before; you can’t handle this. It’s a mess!”

Me: “Yes, it is, but we’ll do this together. You’ll see; it’ll be fine.”

(I dress up in gloves and a plastic apron and begin to undress her, throwing the clothes on the ground near the shower, but far enough from her that she won’t stand on the faeces. I give her the showerhead and start peeling off the stoma plate. This, together with the stoma bag, goes into one of the bin-bags. By now, she starts feeling a bit better. The smell still isn’t nice, but since a lot of faeces is being washed down the drain, it’s getting better. Her husband asks if everything is all right. I tell him yes and ask him to make a cup of tea.)

Patient: *crying* “Why did they leave? Why did they leave you here?”

Me: “I don’t know, but I’ll get you sorted. Your husband is making tea, so when you’re dressed your cuppa is waiting.”

Patient: “Thank you for doing this.”

Me: “Yeah, well, I want this to be my job, so it’s no big deal.”

(When she’s clean and feeling better, I transfer her to the toilet so she can get dressed. Normally, I’d do this on the stool, but since it’s not entirely clean in that area I have to transfer her. Meanwhile, I rinse out her clothes and put them in the other bin-bag, to go into the washing. When she’s dressed in her underwear, I help her with her stoma materials. I walk her to the bedroom to get dressed further and clean the shower as best as I can without the proper materials. She’s still wobbly from her experience, so I go and check on the husband. He’s boiled the water, but then forgot what he was supposed to be doing. I make tea for both of them and, when I’ve written in their patient book what has happened, I go and check on them again.)

Patient: “Thank you, dear, for everything you’ve done. Now, go get the signature you need for that stoma care. You’ve done great, considering they’ve left you while they knew you hadn’t handled anything like this before.”

Me: “Thank you. I’ll try to talk to them about this. It’s horrible that they left you like that. They shouldn’t have.”

Patient: “I know, but I’m glad you were there.”

(I take her clothes to the laundry room and the coworker there washes them immediately. I find one of the cleaners, tell them what happened, and ask them if they have time to clean the bathroom. They agree. I then walk to the staffroom where I know both coworkers and the manager will be for their tea break.)

Me: *slamming my workbook on the table before both coworkers* “Sign here and there.”

Coworker #1 : *looks at where I’m pointing* “I can’t sign this; I haven’t seen you doing stoma care.”

Me: “Of course, you haven’t. You both walked out on the patient while she was covered in faeces from her shoulders to her knees. If I remember correctly your words were, ‘I’m not gonna deal with this,’ and you left her there, in tears, covered in faeces.”

Coworker #2 : “I—”

Me: “You did the exact same thing. You walked out on her, too.”

Manager: “What? You left a patient who needed help? [My Name], can I see the book?”

(I give her the book and she signs without hesitating.)

Manager: “You go home early today; you’ve done enough. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” *points to the two coworkers* “You two, in my office. Now!”

(The next day, I’m a little scared to go back, as I know leaving a patient who needs care is a really bad thing to do. When I get to the staffroom, both coworkers who should’ve been working aren’t there.)

Manager: *when everyone else is present* “I just want to tell you guys that [Coworker #1 ] and [Coworker #2 ] have been placed on unpaid leave for six weeks due to negligence. They’ve left [Patient] with our trainee when she badly needed help. This is inexcusable. You all can understand that, right? Now, [My Name], can you come to my office later to fill out a few witness statements about what happened yesterday?”

(I agreed and we all went to work. I was inundated with questions from other coworkers about what had happened and they were all appalled by my responses. After I’d filled out the witness statements, a couple of weeks went by where we heard nothing more of either coworker. After four weeks, we found out one had been let go as she’d had a warning about negligence before, and the other found another care home to work with.)

Winning At “Misery Loves Company”
England, Hospital, Patients, Time, UK | Healthy | June 25, 2019
I went to see my doctor as I’d had a weird pain in my arm for a week and then it had swelled up at the weekend. He sent me to the hospital for a scan, which confirmed I needed to stay in hospital, but they needed to find me a bed so I went back to the investigations ward to wait. And wait. And wait some more.

At 10:00 pm, there was a teenage lad whose parents were grumbling about how they’d been there for four hours and they were fed up waiting for the boy to be discharged.

A few others joined in, waiting five, six hours… After a while of this, I decided to pipe up.

“I’ve been here since ten o’clock this morning. I got diagnosed nine hours ago and I’m still waiting for a bed because I don’t get to go home tonight.”

There were a few beats of silence before the original grumblers declared me the winner and happily waited for their son to be discharged. It actually helped break some of the tension in the room and got people talking to pass the time until I finally got a bed, so yay for winning “waiting time” to trumps, I guess.

His Enthusiasm Wasn’t Exactly Infectious
Doctor/Physician, England, Hospital, Jerk, UK | Healthy | June 24, 2019
My best friend had surgery in 2017 to remove an ovarian cyst that had gone undiagnosed until it was large enough to cause a protrusion in her abdomen. The surgery to remove it was initially successful and after a couple of days, she returned home, only to be back in hospital three days later with a truly life-threatening infection.

Over a week later, the infection has been largely treated and my friend is moved out of intensive care and onto a ward, still on a cocktail of medicines that leave her somewhat delirious. I’m visiting her along with her mother and two sisters when a doctor enters and begins telling my friend how her infection was the most severe he’d ever seen where the patient recovered. He asks if he can have her permission to write a paper about it. My friend at this point isn’t even with it enough to tell us her surname, and all four of us rather sternly tell the doctor to ask again when she is properly recovered. Embarrassed, he leaves.

I get that doctors deal with this stuff a lot and it’s normal to them, but seriously? She almost died and spent ten days in the ICU, and you think the day she gets back out onto a ward she’s going to be bouncing around the room eager to grant permission for your paper?

My friend made a full recovery and did eventually grant the doctor permission. She told me he said that in blood cultures a score of 10 is an infection, and hers came back with a score of 1,174.

Have You Tried Just… Not Being Epileptic?
Bosses & Owners, Health & Body, Jerk, Mississippi, Salon, USA | Healthy | June 23, 2019
(For my first job, I work at a tanning salon. I have had epilepsy my whole life. During the interview, I explain everything to the general manager and the procedures in case I have one at work. Well, the inevitable happens and I have a seizure when it is just me and one coworker, with a store full of customers. One of the customers calls 911 and I wake up surrounded by the fire department. Naturally, I have to take off for a few days to recover. This is the conversation between me and the general manager as soon as I return for my next shift.)

GM: “[My Name], I need to see you in my office.”

(We sit down and she hands me a piece of paper.)

GM: “You need to sign this incident report.”

(I look over it carefully and sign it at the bottom. She looks at me sort of sideways and then continues.)

GM: “Why didn’t you just not come into work that day?”

Me: “Well, it’s not like I woke up and knew it was going to happen. I only have about ten minutes to one hour of warning. And I did call you almost exactly an hour before and told you how I was feeling. You told me to stay.”

GM: “Yeah, I didn’t think it was actually going to happen.”

Me: “Um, okay? Then what do you want me to do about that?”

GM: “You need to get a hold of yourself. I can’t have you seizing out in front of everybody and scaring away my customers. Did you skip your medicine or something?”

(I start to choke up and begin to cry because I can’t believe she just said something so rude, as if I can just control my disability whenever I feel like it.)

Me: “No, I didn’t skip my medicine. These things happen like clockwork every single month regardless, and you were fully aware of that at my very first interview. If I could control it like you seem to think I can, I would never have another seizure again. I can’t believe you just said something like that to me.”

GM: “Oh, don’t be so sensitive. Dry your tears and go clock in.”

(I just looked at her before I walked out of her office. This created a permanent wedge between me and the general manager. Neither one of us ever spoke of it again, and I didn’t have another seizure at work for the rest of the time I worked there. I eventually quit on the spot one day because I couldn’t handle the way she talked down to me like I was some insubordinate. Who would really say something like that to someone?!)

Some People Only See Black And White
Bigotry, Illinois, Medical Office, Nurses, USA | Healthy | June 22, 2019
(I’m at a popular glasses chain for my yearly check. I’ve been going to this chain and the attached eye doctor for many years. Note: I am Latina. My last name usually gives this away. I’m very light-skinned, though.)

Nurse: “Okay, so you’re [My First and Last Name].”

Me: “Yes.”

Nurse: “[Address]? [Phone Number]? Still correct?”

Me: “Yes.”

Nurse: “Single or married?”

Me: “Single.”

(I notice the nurse peer at the screen, turn around and study me, and then squint at the screen again.)

Me: “Is everything okay?”

Nurse: “Whoever entered you in the computer listed you as ‘Hispanic/Latina.’ Don’t worry; I’ll fix it.”

Me: “I am Latina.”

Nurse: “Seriously? But you’re so light!”

Me: “We do come in all shades, you know.”

Nurse: “Wow!”

(The rest of the exam proceeded normally. I know my area doesn’t have a huge Latino/a population but come on now.)

Not Hearing The Love Here, Mom
Hospital, Parents/Guardians, Patients, Silly, USA, Wisconsin | Healthy | June 21, 2019
(My mother is hearing-impaired. She’s not totally deaf, but if she’s not wearing her hearing aids, you need to speak very loudly and slowly for her to understand you. She’s been this way since she was five years old due to a case of German measles damaging her auditory nerves. Fast forward twenty years. She is pregnant with me and my brother — I’m female. She knows she is having twins because her doctor heard two heartbeats, but because this is before sonograms are a thing, she does not know what the genders of the babies are. She just assumes that they will both be the same, and she and my dad choose two girl names and two boy names. She goes into labor, but things are just not progressing. Her doctor decides she needs a C-section. This is also in the days before epidurals are commonly used, so they knock her out for the operation, having her remove her hearing aids so they won’t get lost. The babies are delivered and my mom goes to recovery. As she starts to wake up, the nurse comes up to her. Note that my mom is still not wearing her hearing aids.

Nurse: “[Something unintelligible].”

Still-Groggy Mom: “Huh?”

Nurse: “Waa waaa wa waa waa wa waaa…”

Yet Still Groggy Mom: “What?”

Nurse: “YOU HAVE A BOY AND A GIRL!”

Mom: “Oh, they can’t be mine.”

(Rejected before she even saw me! Thank heaven it was the drugs talking!)

This Nurse Is No Veteran At Blood Draws
Hospital, Nurses, Stupid, USA, Wisconsin | Healthy | June 20, 2019
(I have been experiencing undiagnosed depression and severe anxiety caused by a serious accident while I was in the military. As such, after being let go from my job for something I didn’t do, I end up getting admitted into the psych ward at the Veterans hospital. Before admittance, you have to get your blood drawn to test for drugs.)

Screening Nurse: “Okay, hon, this is the nurse that is going to take your blood.”

(The nurse tries to insert the needle in the crook of my arm and misses.)

Nurse: “Oh, darn! Let me try again.”

(He tries again and misses.)

Nurse: “Let me try on the top of your wrist.”

Me: “Umm… Isn’t that going to be harder? I am a very easy stick; maybe you should try on my right arm.”

Nurse: “No, I can get the vein on the top of your wrist.”

Me: “Um, okay.”

(The nurse proceeded to miss twice more on the top of my wrist. The third try, he wiggled the needle around to try and catch the vein — don’t ask me why he thought that would work — and as a last-ditch effort and with no warning, he went vertical with the needle and rammed it straight down into my wrist. I darn near hauled off and punched him, but I settled for cursing. Miraculously, he did manage to get blood… which lead to another problem. He never put the cap on the end of the tube, so instead of the blood stopping at the end of the tube, it just spewed all over me, the chair, the nurse, and the floor. Once we stopped all that nonsense and got my test results back, which were clean, I finally was admitted into the psych ward where I had to explain to the nurses that, no, I did not try and cut my arm off, their nurse just sucks at blood draws, and that’s why my arm was covered in bandages. Welcome to the VA, folks.)

Oh, That’s Not Water Breaking; That’s The Interns Crying
College & University, Doctor/Physician, Non-Dialogue, Pranks, Teachers, USA | Healthy | June 19, 2019
I studied medical laboratory science in college. As we were studying hormones, we came to hCG, which is the hormone tested for on a pregnancy test. The professor was explaining how, at the very end of a pregnancy, hCG levels can drop off, yielding a negative pregnancy test on an obviously pregnant patient.

Then, he added this gem: “You can really freak out nervous medical interns by calling them up and telling them the pregnancy test on a very pregnant woman is negative. I’m not saying I’ve done it, but I’m not saying I haven’t.”