They Manipulate Grass Now, Too

Awesome, Health & Body, home, Inspirational, Kansas, Neighbors, USA | Healthy | April 18, 2019


I’m an adult living with my parents. My mom’s chiropractor lives across the street from us. One day at an appointment, she is telling him that she is rather sore. She has to do most of the chores around the house, including mowing the lawn, because both my dad and I are recovering from surgery.

A few days later, my dad steps outside to get the newspaper and finds the chiropractor mowing our lawn for us.

Just His (Red) Cross To Bear

Blood Donation, New York, Silly, Spouses & Partners, USA | Healthy | April 17, 2019


(For those who don’t know, there is a specialized blood donation process called apheresis. In this type of donation, the platelets are separated out of the bloodstream and collected, while the rest of the blood is returned to the body. It takes longer than a regular whole blood donation but can be done more often so people can give more. The phone rings and I answer it.)

Me: “Hello?”

Caller: “Hello, this is [Caller] from the American Red Cross calling to speak to [Husband] about scheduling an apheresis appointment.”

Me: *calling out* “[Husband], it’s the Red Cross. They want to suck your blood!”

Caller: “No, just his platelets…”

Just The Naked Truth, Doc

Hospital, Patients, Silly, UK | Healthy | April 15, 2019


(I’ve been referred to a gynaecologist. After taking my history he shows me behind a curtain, where there is a bed with stirrups, and asks me to get ready for an examination. After a minute or two, I am ready.)

Doctor: *from the other side of the curtain* “Are you decent?”

(My legs are in stirrups, and my genitals are completely exposed.)

Me: *jokingly* “Well, I definitely wouldn’t say I’m decent…”

Out Of Control About The Birth Control

Columbus, Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Medical Office, Ohio, USA | Healthy | April 14, 2019


(I am coming in for a routine checkup with my GP. I am female and he is going through all the questions. Then, we get to the contraceptive part.)

Doctor: “Are you on birth control?”

Me: “No, I don’t react well to it.”

Doctor: “So, what do you use for protection?”

Me: “Condoms.”

Doctor: “Condoms are fine and all, but not 100% effective. You should really also be on birth control pills.”

Me: “Well, I tried taking the lowest dose offered, but I gained a ton of weight and was always throwing up while I was on it. I don’t react well to it and prefer not to take it. Condoms work just fine.”

Doctor: “Just using condoms is like playing Russian Roulette! It does not protect you 100%!”

Me: *thinking to myself that the “pullout method” was more akin to “Russian Roulette* “Well, again, I get really sick when I’ve taken it in the past, so I really don’t want it.”

(He went on for about five minutes more on how I was being “risky.” I couldn’t help but feel he was being a “pill pusher” and not listening to what I was saying. At that point, I was 26 and married with a steady job, so if I did accidentally become pregnant it wouldn’t have been the end of the world. Every time I went in after that, he was always pushing birth control. I think I need a new GP.)

H2-D’oh!, Part 6

Extra Stupid, Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, Patients, USA, Virginia | Healthy | April 13, 2019


I’m the dumb patient here.

I had just received a cortisone shot for hip pain and the nurse was giving me post-op instructions, one of which was no soaking baths for three days. I said that I was driving to Chicago the next day and was disappointed that I couldn’t use the hotel hot tub, but then I said, “Well, that’s okay; I’ll just swim extra laps.”

The nurse gave me an odd look and reminded me that the instructions also meant “no swimming.”

Liver Die By The Spoon

Food & Drink, home, Instant Karma, Pranks, Siblings, Singapore | Related | June 30, 2020


It’s dinner time. My younger brother’s eyes are glued to his device and he is barely eating. My parents are adamant that I am not to steal his device — again — so I am reduced to nagging him to eat faster. It isn’t working. After I’ve lost my patience, I say this.

Me: “[Younger Brother]. You will start eating your food faster, or else I’ll be forced to feed you.”

He’s like eight. I thought that threatening to feed him like a baby would have been embarrassing enough. Alas, he calls my bluff.

Younger Brother: *Not even looking up* “Sure!”

I sigh, scoop a mouthful of food, and offer it to him. He eats it without even looking and visibly winces. After struggling with the worst expression of disgust, he finally swallows his food and glares at me.

Younger Brother: “What the h*** was that?”

Me: *Unrepentant grin* “Liver. It is just the worst, isn’t it?”

The two of us absolutely hate liver. On the other hand, our mom loves it, which is why there is some available at the dinner table.

Younger Brother: “Why did you feed me that?!”

Me: “It’s not my fault you weren’t looking at what you were eating.”

That finally got him to put down his device and start eating in earnest. Unfortunately, over the years, I’ve had to redo this trick several times to get him off his device, mostly using chili, which was more common than liver and had far more amusing and effective results. You’d think he’d have learned his lesson by now.

When Odo Came To Dinner

Food & Drink, Geeks Rule, home, Indiana, Siblings, USA |
Related | June 30, 2020

My dad, mom, sister, and I are having dinner together. For dessert, Mom brings out a big bowl of Jello.

Sister: *As she’s serving herself* “What flavor is this? Raspberry, cherry…?”

Dad: *Deadpan* “It’s red, Jim.”

Did I mention we’re all “Star Trek” fans?

Trying To Grease His Own Palms

Canada, Crazy Requests, Food & Drink, Restaurant, Saskatchewan, Saskatoon | Right | June 29, 2020


Customer: “I want my meal free for this!”

Me: “I’m… sorry, sir, what is the problem?”

Customer: “My burger is a little bit greasy.”

I work in the restaurant portion of, ostensibly, a truck stop. Burgers are greasy everywhere, but what do you expect? I examine the burger.

Me: “It doesn’t look any greasier than any of the other burgers we serve. It’s just the meat juices; it’s perfectly harmless.”

Customer: “It’s greasy, d*** you! I want my meal for free!”

Me: “Well, I could… get a napkin and soak up some of—”

Customer: “No, I want my meal free!”

Me: “Um, I’m not able to apply discounts to meals myself; I’ll have to get the manager for you. One moment.”

The guy started a scene and shouted quite a bit at the manager, who was adamant about not giving him a discount for acceptably-made food. The manager eventually kicked him out so he wouldn’t disturb the other customers and blacklisted his Trucker Rewards Card across our entire chain.

That Man Needs To Man-Go

Australia, Food & Drink, home, In-Laws, Jerk, Melbourne | Related | June 29, 2020


My husband’s brother has moved in with us due to not being able to afford a place of his own. From the beginning, he’s made extra demands in regards to the food I cook. I already deal with a fussy eater — my husband, who will only eat specific items — and am not going to prepare multiple foods to appease [Brother-In-Law].

He makes passive-aggressive complaints about that to the rest of the family. I never say anything about this, always trying to keep the peace. I do make one change: I start making him a salad course to have with meals. He’s made no effort to help us pay for the extra food we now have to buy.

It’s the beginning of mango season; they are pretty expensive but I decide to buy myself one as a treat. That evening, I prepare dinner as normal and give [Brother-In-Law] his salad and main course. Afterward, I collect the plates.

Brother-In-Law: “Dinner was nice this evening, but I was disappointed with the salad.”

Me: “What was wrong with it?”

Brother-In-Law: “Oh, nothing really, it’s just that I like to have fruit in my salad. I saw that you had bought a mango and was expecting that to be in my salad. Next time, put mango in.”

Me: *Seething at this demand* “No one gets any of my f****** mango.” *Stomps off*

I stopped making him salads after that because I wouldn’t want him to have to eat disappointing food.

This Customer Should Try Peanuts As Her Blood Pressure Is Through The Roof

Food & Drink, Grocery Store, Health & Body, Ohio, USA | Right | June 29, 2020


I am giving out samples of homemade peanut butter in a grocery store.

Me: “Good morning, ma’am. Please try some fresh home-made peanut butter!”

Customer: *With disgust* “Ugh, peanut butter has so much cholesterol in it!”

Me: *Pleasantly* “I’m sorry, but peanut butter doesn’t have any cholesterol in it.”

Customer: *Clearly offended* “What do you mean?!”

Me: “Well, cholesterol is a molecule found in the cell membranes of animals to help keep it more rigid. Plants, such as peanuts, have a sturdy cell wall protecting it; they have no need for cholesterol.”

The customer seems to get angry that I clearly know what I’m talking about and she doesn’t.

Customer: “Well! Peanuts have lots of fat, then!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, they do have fat.”

The customer left. I sighed.

A Pun About Going Bananas Would Be Too Easy

Current Events, Food & Drink, Parents/Guardians, Silly, Supermarket, UK | Related | June 26, 2020


I work in a supermarket. My mum is vulnerable and thus gets online orders, but she hates the quality and dates that are on some of the perishables, so she gives me a list of carriable perishables; I don’t drive so I can’t just get everything. I’ve realised she’s not put bananas on there and I know she’s out, so I give her a call.

Me: “Hey, Mum, just want to check if you want me to get bananas, too.”

Mum: “Oh… Um… No, they’re kind of heavy, so I’ll get them with the big items shop.”

Me: “They’re not that heavy. I can manage them. And your big item shop isn’t until… another fortnight.”

Mum: “Err… no. I’ve already put a lot on your list. But I’ll put them on your Tuesday list.”

Me: “I’m not working Tuesday. If I don’t get them today, you won’t have bananas until Friday. Are you really willing to go five or six days without bananas?”

There is a horrified silence on the phone.

Mum: “GET BANANAS! I REPEAT, GET BANANAS!”

Has No Patience For Allergies

Food & Drink, Health & Body, Restaurant, Tennessee, USA | Right | June 26, 2020


I’m waiting tables in the bar area of a chain restaurant. I have one table of two women. One of them has ordered a burger with no tomato. I forgot to ring in the change so she gets a normal burger.

Customer: “Excuse me; I asked for no tomato.”

Me: “I’m so sorry! I’ll take that back to the kitchen and get it taken off for you.”

Customer: “No! I’m allergic and this burger is contaminated; I need a new one.”

I relay this information to the kitchen and they begin cooking a new burger without tomato. Not five minutes have passed and I go back to the table.

Customer: “Where is my burger? She—” *points to her friend* “—is almost finished and I’m still waiting. What’s taking so long?”

Me: “You said you needed a new, uncontaminated burger. It takes time to cook and we have several other tables to prepare food for.”

She shut up but still looked obviously annoyed. I brought her the new burger and apologized again. A few minutes later, I returned to the table to make sure everything had come out right, and I noticed she had smothered her burger in ketchup. It took everything in me not to ask if she knew what ketchup was made of.

I understand the inconvenience of the order being wrong, but don’t lie about an allergy and then complain when you have to wait for your order to be completely remade.

When A Simple Salad Isn’t, Part 2

Atlanta, Extra Stupid, Food & Drink, Georgia, Jerk, Nurses, Restaurant, USA | Right | June 26, 2020


We tend to get a lot of delivery orders to the local hospital around the corner. It’s usually not a problem, but we have been having some issues with entitled and dishonest nurses.

Today, I get a call for four orders for four different nurses, with four salads: a Mediterranean, two Greeks, and a side garden salad. I make the salads, label the boxes, and bag them.

About an hour and a half later, I get another call. This time it’s a different nurse than the one that placed the order.

Nurse #2: “Yeah, we’re missing a salad.”

Me: “I’m sorry about that. There were four salads for four orders, correct?”

Nurse #2: “Yeah. But [Nurse #3] was supposed to have a Greek salad, but I’m standing here looking at a garden. I’ve got her ticket right here.”

Me: “Okay, let me go back over the orders and make sure—”

Nurse #2: *Interrupting me* “I don’t know what everyone else got, just that [Nurse #3] didn’t get the right one! She’s pissed off that she paid $11 for a salad and [entrée] and you guys messed it up! And your delivery driver! He forgot the salads the first time when he brought the hot food and had to go back. So this is now the second time! We just want a credit or something because this is getting ridiculous.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear about the delivery issue, and I’ll have a word with the boss about it. I can give you the credit. May I have a phone number so that the next time [Nurse #3] calls, she can use it?”

Nurse #2: *Snapping* “I don’t know her number! Here, let me transfer you to her.”

The phone slams and hold music plays. By this point, I’ve had two tables sat in my section, so I manage to step aside to let them know I’ll be right over. After a few minutes, someone takes the phone off of hold.

Nurse #4: “[Hospital], how can I help you?”

I internally sigh.

Me: “Hey, I’m from [Restaurant] and I’m trying to issue a credit to [Nurse #3].”

Nurse #4: “Okay, what do you need?”

Me: “I just need a phone number for [Nurse #3].”

Nurse #4: “Oh! The department number is [unfamiliar number]. Will that work?”

I know that the nurses switch around a lot.

Me: “Is that [Nurse #3]’s usual department?”

Nurse #4: “Oh, no. She’s just filling in. Let me transfer you to her.”

I’m about to start banging my head on the desk when [Nurse #3] finally picks up.

Me: “Hey, I’m calling from [Restaurant] and there was an issue with your salad? I’ve been asked to give you a credit, but I need your number so that someone else doesn’t claim your credit.”

Nurse #3: *Flatly* “It’s [cell number].”

Me: “Okay, great! I’ve issued a credit for you, so when you’d like to use it, give us this number and it should pop right up. Is there anything else needed today?”

Nurse #3: *Snarkily* “So when’s the money going to go back on my card?”

I stop.

Me: “That would be a refund. I was told that you were looking for a credit for the salad.”

Nurse #3: “Yeah, so?”

Me: “I can issue one or the other, but not both. Which one would you rather have?”

Nurse #3: *Deep sigh* “I guess the refund, then!”

I delete the credit and void her payment. I then explain the basic spiel about how the refund may show up on her bank account and that the charge should just drop off.

Nurse #3: “Well, is that it?”

Me: “Actually, out of curiosity, did the order with [entrée and a side salad] get everything correctly?”

Nurse #3: “Yeah, she got a free upgrade to a Greek salad! She said it was delicious!”

We hang up and I go let my boss know about what had happened. He listens for a while.

Boss: “From now on, bag each salad separately, with each hospital person’s name on it. Also, go put a note on the department’s account that a refund was received on this date, for [refund amount], and to whom. Sounds to me like they may try to get a credit for the salad or the whole order.

Sure enough, a couple of days later, they tried to convince the cashier that they were due a credit for all four orders, as “none of them” received the correct salads!

Related:
When A Simple Salad Isn’t

They Are Not Behaving Rice-ly

British Columbia, Canada, Food & Drink, Restaurant | Right | June 22, 2020


I work in the deli section of a mainly Asian grocery store where we serve hot Chinese food. Our combinations include one, two, or three items plus your choice of rice or a noodle; we have two rice and three noodle dishes.

Customer: “I’d like a two-item combo with the fried rice, ginger beef, and beef and broccoli.”

Me: “A two-item with fried rice, ginger beef, and beef and broccoli. For here or to go?”

Customer: “To go.”

The customer walks away to grab a drink. I serve the rice and begin scooping up ginger beef. The customer returns.

Customer: “That’s not what I ordered.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am, I thought you said a two-item combo with fried rice, ginger beef, and beef and broccoli?”

The customer points at the Singapore fried vermicelli noodle.

Customer: “Yeah, I want that one. It says right here on the tag Singapore Fried. That’s what I want.”

Me: “So the fried vermicelli noodle, ginger beef, and beef and broccoli, not the fried rice? Sorry about that!”

I start dishing up the new combination for her.

Customer’s Friend: “Ugh! The service here is terrible

Holy Guacamole!

Connecticut, Employees, Extra Stupid, Food & Drink, Sandwich Shop, USA | Working | June 20, 2020


My boyfriend and I are customers. We are the only ones in line and there is one employee behind the counter. The popular “fresh eats” sandwich shop has two new wraps, so we each order one so we can try them both. My sandwich is steak and guacamole. This story starts after the steak and cheese comes out of the toaster.

Employee: “Any toppings?”

Me: “Doesn’t it come with guac?”

Employee: “It’s optional, so yeah, if you want it.”

Me: “Yes, please.”

I am already thinking this is strange.

Me: “And also [other toppings].”

The employee GLOBS on the guac next to everything and rolls my wrap up, rolling it towards the huge pile of guac he put on, squishing it everywhere

I should say something now, but I don’t think it is that bad, and since we are on break from work, we don’t have a lot of time, so we pay and leave.

We drive off and I open my wrap and there is guac ALL OVER everything, including the paper around it. I call my boss to tell her I will be back ASAP but my food is inedible. She says no worries, so we turn around. I am already in tears over this because I have some other things going on, so my boyfriend takes the sandwich to ask them to remake it. This time, someone else is there and there is a line.

Boyfriend: “Can you remake this? It’s a mess; she can’t eat this.”

Employee: “Well, yeah, you wanted guac. I cannot spread it with everything else on the wrap. It is optional; you said you wanted it.”

Me: *Finally speaking up* “Well, can you have him make it, then?”

I point to the other employee.

Employee: “Sure.”

I know I’ve pissed him off, since he goes into the back. He comes back and takes over cash for the other employee to send him to me. I know I made the right call as soon as he starts making my food.

Employee #2 : “The steak and guac? Do you want the guac?”

Me: “Yes, please.”

[Employee #2 ] spread the guac on the wrap BEFORE any other toppings went on.

The second employee’s sandwich was much better. I’ve never had someone assume I DON’T want one of the items in the title of the sandwich and then blame me for the outcome.

“Women Troubles” Is NOT Women Causing Trouble

Australia, Bigotry, Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office | Healthy | May 11, 2019


(From my first period at age 12, I have been having horrible pain with each menstruation. Several months later, the pain is so bad that I can’t stand. My mother is alarmed and takes me to the ED. They suspect appendicitis and operate, only to find a healthy appendix. I am referred to a gynaecologist.)

Gynaecologist #1: “So, I hear you’ve had a bit of a sore tummy, huh?”

Me: “Yes, it really hurts, and I—“

Gynaecologist #1: “Now, [My Name]. You’re grown up now. This is part of being a woman; you just have to put up with it, all right? Take some paracetamol when the pain starts and get on with it, all right?”

(I’m embarrassed to have caused such a fuss and take what he says to heart. For the next 12 years, I put up with horrendous, increasing pain, assuming all women go through it. Every cycle, without fail, I spend a minimum of 12 hours in such pain I am vomiting. It gets so that I am in pain all the time, even when I’m not menstruating. Finally, at 25, I have an epic period of 17 days of vomit-worthy pain. My parents convince me to go to the ED in my new city where I live.

The ED doctors give me a high dose of morphine and check for acute problems, then refer me to a gynaecologist. I am already convinced that this one will think I am wasting his time, too, and begin rehearsing apologies. Finally, I meet the new gynaecologist.)

Gynaecologist #2: “So, I hear you’ve been sore?”

Me: “Yes…” *describes situation*

Gynaecologist #2: “Can I feel your stomach? Hmm. Okay, I’m not going to, but if I pressed hard, would it hurt?”

Me: “Yes.”

Gynaecologist #2: *taking his hand away* “Does it hurt now?”

Me: “Yes.”

(The gynaecologist went a little grim and told me that I needed an operation immediately. He fit me in the following week and ended up excising a LOT of tissue. It turned out that I had a condition that caused infertility if it was untreated, and the main symptom was immense pain. Luckily, the disease hadn’t yet damaged my tubes so I can still conceive naturally. With medication to manage ovulation and possibly more operations should the tissue regrow, I should be completely healthy. Most importantly, I’m not in constant pain. How lucky that I found a doctor who knew that “women troubles” was no longer a proper medical diagnosis!)

Pregnancy Brain Is Contagious

Extra Stupid, Hospital, Illinois, Nurses, USA | Healthy | May 10, 2019


(I’m a surrogate pregnant with twins. I go to have a regular 20-week checkup with ultrasound. After the ultrasound, I’m surprised to be called in immediately for the doctor exam. They tell me my cervix has started opening and has shrunk; they explain I have to go to the women’s and children’s hospital for a high-risk assessment. I denied the ambulance since it is only a couple blocks away and I am not extremely worried about driving two measly blocks. After I arrive, I am brought to a room and told to get in the gown. Twenty minutes later, the nurse comes in.)

Nurse: “I see here you’re pregnant with twins. Congratulations, Mom!”

Me: “Thanks, but they’re not mine. I’m just the oven.”

Nurse: *obviously ignoring me* “Any surgeries we should know about?”

Me: “Yep, tubal ligation two years ago.”

Nurse: “I’m sorry? You had a what?”

Me: “A tubal ligation — my fallopian tubes were cut so I wouldn’t get pregnant unless it was for someone else.”

Nurse: *laughing* “Obviously, it didn’t take!”

Me: “No, it worked. As I know it says in my chart, I am a surrogate. These babies are not mine, nor will they go home with me.”

Nurse: “You’re a what?!”

Me: “Surrogate.”

Nurse: “But you’re pregnant!”

Me: “Yes, and not with my own DNA. When did you graduate nursing school?”

Nurse: “How are you a pregnant surrogate?”

(Thankfully, the high-risk doctor came in at that time, heard her, and, in words I would use for a toddler, explained how surrogacy works. Sad thing is, she was young enough to know about surrogacy, a fact that made me question her intelligence when she said “Friends” was her favorite show and loved when Phoebe was pregnant.)

Not Feeling Five Alive

Doctor/Physician, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | May 10, 2019


(I have hypothyroidism, which has been successfully controlled with medication for several years. Over a couple of months, however, I notice that some of my symptoms are returning. I call my doctor, and she says she will do a blood test. I go to her office for the results.)

Doctor: “Your thyroid level is at 4.9.”

(The maximum is 5.)

Me: “Well, no wonder I’ve been feeling sick! That’s very high.”

Doctor: “Oh, no. You’re fine. Five is the top of the normal range. You’re still under that.”

Me: “But a lot of my old symptoms are coming back. I can’t sleep at night, I’m tired during the day, I’m freezing cold all the time—“

Doctor: “You’re under stress. It’s normal.”

Me: “I HAVE GAINED TWENTY POUNDS IN TWO MONTHS!”

Doctor: “Well, you just need to go on a diet.”

Me: “I exercise five days a week, and I eat my fruits and veggies! I don’t feel like myself. I know my body, and I need a medication change!”

Doctor: “Well, I’m not giving you one, because you’re normal.”

(She tells me to exercise more and gives me a vitamin supplement. I fume, but I take it. A couple of months later, I move to a different state. I go in for an appointment with my new doctor.)

New Doctor: “I’ve been reviewing your test results from your previous doctor, and I noticed your thyroid is at 4.9. That’s very high. Are you feeling okay at that number?”

Me: “Not at all! I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t listen. She kept saying it was normal.”

New Doctor: “I’m not surprised. Older guidelines allow it to get that high, but I’ve found that my patients feel better when their thyroid is at 3 or under. I’m going to order some more blood work.”

(The new blood test showed that my number had skyrocketed to a 6. My new doctor changed my medication immediately. It took a year and three medicine changes to get it right. It turned out that my thyroid number had been creeping up for a couple of years, and my old doctor had just ignored it. I’m happy to report that I’m much better now!)

Starved Of Decent Medical Care

Doctor/Physician, Germany, Hospital, Jerk | Healthy | May 10, 2019


(I have been diagnosed with Lipo/Lymph-edema several years ago, and because of that, I have gained an ungainly amount of weight on my lower half waist down and my arms. To be honest, I have not stopped caring about my weight, and every miserably failed diet has been a throwback to my mental health, too. My former doctor of choice, sadly, could not keep practicing, so I am on the lookout for a new specialist to take care of me and my needs of MLD — Manual lymph drainage — and compression stockings, to give me at least a little relief from the fluid build up in my extremities. Finding this doctor in a well-known hospital close by, a so-called specialist that was recommended to me, seems to be a lucky find!)

Doctor: “Ah, I see. A classical lip-edema type, complete with lymph-edema. Losing weight is horrible, isn’t it? No wonder, with the genetic factors, and the fact that lip-edema cannot be starved off.”

(Finally, a doctor who is not fat-shaming me or telling me to stop stuffing my face!)

Me: *almost melting into the exam table from relief* “Oh, God, yeah. It’s a nightmare! Not even six months on a 1200-calorie diet helped! And the lymph-edema is making it worse; every step hurts!”

Doctor: “Well, no wonder it hurts. I can–” *presses a thumb into my calf, making a nice deep dent there that stays even after he takes his thumb away* “–do this, and it just shows how much fluid you got. Now, you need to lose weight, drastically, and after you lost 30 to 50 kilograms, you can come back, and we’ll see how you feel.”

Me: “What? You just said… You just said that losing weight…”

Doctor: “Yes, but you need to lose weight! Get a dog or a husband, and you’ll be busy enough to forget about food! To lose weight, you should stop eating those sugary snacks, and the sugary fruit, and all those carbs, and eat more red meat and poultry! But remember, you cannot have too much protein!”

Me: *stares, not believing what I just heard* “Uh… okay? But what about compression stockings, and the MLD?”

Doctor: “Yeah, you see, I am not going to prescribe you that. You can lose weight with a good diet, and then you won’t have those symptoms anymore.”

Me: “You said lip-edema cannot be starved off… and I’m really in pain from the lymph-edema and the fluid build up. At least to help with that?”

Doctor: “Yes, but it is not worth either my time, nor the money, nor the effort to prescribe any of that if you can just lose weight, and forget about it!”

Me: *getting up, feeling like I’m in the twilight zone right now* “All right…”

(I left after that, and met with my family physician, who stared at me, called the health insurance company to complain about that doctor, prescribed me the lymph drainage and compression stockings, gave me a pamphlet about a specialised clinic for my lipo/lymph-edema, and filled out forms to get me a spot there for a three week “rehab.” He also told me to eat “normally/healthily,” since, you guessed it, lip-edema cannot be starved off

The 1960s Want Their Healthcare Back

Bigotry, Medical Office, New Jersey, Reception, USA | Healthy | May 9, 2019


(As a middle-aged female, I’ve acquired more than a few chronic ailments, and each time I’ve changed jobs, I’ve had to change health insurance companies, resulting in having to be under the care of numerous doctors for the same conditions. I’ve been divorced for 14 years, and I’ve always had my own health insurance as a working adult. While calling up yet another new doctor to make yet another “new patient” appointment, I give the friendly lady receptionist my pertinent information. All goes well until she drops this line:)

Receptionist: “And that’s your husband’s insurance, correct?”

(That’s the first and ONLY time I’ve ever been asked that, even when I WAS married — and he didn’t even have insurance. Probably shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did, but there was no way she could have ascertained I was married based on anything I told her. Welcome to the 21st century, friendly lady receptionist.)

A Very Testing Medical Appointment

Australia, Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Medical Office | Healthy | May 9, 2019


Doctor: “This next test is very dangerous for fetuses, so we need to test and make sure you’re not pregnant first.”

Me: “I’m not pregnant.”

Doctor: “Well, sometimes people don’t know that they are.”

Me: “Didn’t we just establish that I have a birth control insert in place to control my period?”

Doctor: “Those aren’t 100% reliable. We need a test.”

Me: “I’m not sexually active. At all. Ever.”

Doctor: *suddenly perplexed* “But you have an insert.”

Me: “Because without it I bled for ten weeks straight out of every twelve for two years. Because I have POCS. Which is why we just spent half this appointment reviewing my last blood results.”

Doctor: “Oh. Right. I forgot.”

Me: “So, can we move onto that test now?”

Doctor: “Which test were you thinking of?”

Me: “…”

Doctor: “…”

Me: “I’m your last appointment at the end of your shift, aren’t I?”

Doctor: *surprised* “How could you possibly know that?”

Doesn’t Have An Eye For This Job

Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Ireland, Vet | Healthy | May 8, 2019


My friends found a kitten when stuck in traffic a few years ago. He had a very badly infected eye, and after adopting him we opted to have it removed; the lid was stitched shut over the socket, and apart from some minor depth perception issues it never bothered him in the slightest in the three years he lived afterward. He was famous among friends, family, and neighbours for being the one-eyed tabby cat, so it was pretty obviously gone.

We always saw the same vet for every appointment and surgery, until his last yearly checkup and vaccinations. The vet we saw was either newly-trained or inexperienced, but fairly competent at what she did because that cat was never as quiet during a check-up!

Everything was going fine; weight was optimal, good overall condition, no unusual lumps or bumps, clean ears and teeth, right eye perfect… and then she tried to open his sewn-shut eyelid.

She was very apologetic to humans and cat alike upon realising her mistake. He was used to kids poking at him, but it still makes me giggle to think of her not noticing his one distinguishing feature.

A Stroke Of Bad Luck

Bad Behavior, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Oregon, USA | Healthy | May 8, 2019


(While clocking into work, I unexpectedly suffer a stroke. I am a 35-year-old school bus driver and I do not take illegal drugs or drink alcohol. As the EMTs bring me into the ER, the doctor asks what my condition is.)

EMT: “She’s having a stroke.”

Doctor: “Nonsense. She’s too young. How old is she?”

EMT: “35.”

Doctor: “See, too young. Must be a drug overdose.”

EMT: “No, do the FAST test. Face; her smile is crooked. Arms; her left side is paralyzed. Speech; her words are slurred. Time; we got her here in time. Give her clot busters to break up the blood clot causing her stroke.”

Doctor: *angrily* “You’re just an EMT! I say it’s a drug overdose!”

(The EMTs leave, and the doctor turns to me, yelling.)

Doctor: “What drugs did you take?!”

Me: *slurred because the left side of my face and tongue are not working* “I can hear you fine; you don’t have to yell. I took some Nyquil last night for a cold.”

Doctor: *sarcastically* “Nyquil?! More like Meth!” *to nurse* “I need a meth overdose kit here!”

Me: *trying to yell back at him* “I. Don’t. Take. Drugs.”

Nurse: *reluctantly bringing kit* “Are you sure? She shows classic stroke signs.”

(As the doctor gets an overdose injection ready, my husband enters the room, having met and talked to the EMTs in the ambulance bay as they were leaving.)

Husband: “Stop. Don’t touch her again.”

Doctor: *sputtering* “She’s obviously a drug addict. I’m giving her the best treatment for that.”

Husband: “And you’re obviously an idiot.”

(My husband and the doctor are circling my gurney during this exchange. The doctor is trying to stay out of my husband’s reach.)

Husband: *to nurse* “Please call for an ambulance; I want her treated at [Hospital ten miles away]. Not by him.” *points at the doctor*

(The doctor practically sprints from room.)

Nurse: *to husband* “I thought you were gonna kill him. I kind of wish you had caught him.”

(The same EMTs returned. As they were loading me into the ambulance they told my husband that they told that doctor I was having a stroke, but he’s kind of a know-it-all a**hole and they were glad I would be treated somewhere else. I was greeted at the other ER by a neurologist with clot-busting drugs at the door. He says that, luckily, that delay won’t impact my recovery.)

Insults Are Free!

Jerk, Patients, Pennsylvania, Pets & Animals, Philadelphia, USA, Vet | Healthy | May 8, 2019


I am a relatively new veterinarian. Often, we will get a case come in as ADR — Ain’t Doing Right — which is to say they are acting a bit off, but not always obvious what is wrong. I have an ADR older golden retriever come in with Mom and Son. They give the history: the dog has been losing weight, not eating well, lethargic, and having dark stools for a few weeks. This dog also has a history of ear problems. The last time we saw the dog was over two years ago. They have limited funds, so I try to work on a step-by-step diagnostic to try to get the most information before determining if more diagnostics are needed.

Starting with the physical exam: the dog is severely muscle wasted, lethargic — as they said — and dehydrated, and he has a new heart murmur. After discussing with Mom, we decide to start with bloodwork. It comes up with some very mild liver changes, but nothing too noteworthy. We are at the upper point of their budget, so I discuss my next recommendation of chest x-rays and what we would do depending on what we found, quoting them the costs for everything before anything is performed. They agree to the x-rays, and unfortunately, the x-rays show possible heart enlargement, but again nothing too exciting. So, they agree to try a heart medication, subcutaneous fluids, and an anti-emetic and see how the dog responds. It’s worth noting there were additional tests I would have liked to do, but I didn’t want to stretch their budget too much further.

A few days later, the dog isn’t improving on the heart meds, so I recommend an abdominal ultrasound — at a different vet — to better evaluate the gastrointestinal tract and surrounding organs. Unfortunately, the ultrasound looks like liver cancer, which I am very surprised by given how mild the blood work was.

I receive a request to contact the Father when I return to work the day after the ultrasound. I give him a call back, assuming he wants to discuss further treatment and prognosis. Boy, was I wrong.

Turns out he just wants to spend ten minutes telling me I am a crook, only in it for the money, and don’t care about animals. He continues to tell me that I took advantage of his wife and his upset son, and had them spend more money than they were willing. He rails that the dog was coming in for an ear infection, and I had them do a bunch of unnecessary tests. Any time I try to interject, either to explain my findings and recommendations as he wasn’t there, or to confirm what he thinks happened at the appointment, he simply talks over me, stating he doesn’t care what justifications I have and that “[he] is onto [my] game.” It continues until I am crying against the wall and finally have permission from the practice owner to hang up on him.

The fun part: he calls right back to have my receptionist tell me I am an a**hole. I still have to talk to his (much nicer) wife to answer her questions, and I almost can’t bring myself to do it. As of now, I refuse to discuss anything further with the Father

Broken History

Denmark, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Patients | Healthy | May 7, 2019


(I fall outside my front door. I still can’t walk on my ankle two days later, and given my rather unfortunate history with broken bones, my parents decide to take me to the hospital to have it x-rayed. I am pretty sure it isn’t broken but better safe than sorry. I have it x-rayed and the doctor comes in with the x-ray picture. She puts it on the wall where we can all see it.)

Doctor: “I don’t think that it is broken, but it is a little hard to tell with all the previous fractures. I sent it to a specialist, just to make sure. If it is broken, we will call you tomorrow.”

Mother: “[My Name] has fortunately only had greenstick fractures so far!”

Doctor: *looks at the big, obvious nick on my bone, then looks at my mum* “No.”

(I cracked up, and the doctor pointed the old break out to my mum. I’d had another fall six months before, but I didn’t bother going to the hospital because I have my own crutches and bandages at home. I had thought it was just a sprain, but apparently not. My ankle was not broken this time, but my parents now take me to the hospital if there’s the slightest chance something is broken.)

Would Face-Palm If You Weren’t Paralyzed

Extra Stupid, Friends, Hospital, Non-Dialogue, Patients, UK | Healthy | May 7, 2019


My daughter is in the ICU suffering from Guillain-Barré syndrome. She is totally paralysed from her eyes to the tips of her toes, being made to breathe via a tracheotomy and a bank of syringe drivers automatically delivering an assortment of high-strength pain relief. A friend comes to visit and I warn her that my daughter is suffering from a bad headache today.

“Oh,” she says, “Have they given her anything for it?”

Both the nurse and I have to look away. Duh!

His Advice Is Neutral At Best

Canada, Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Lazy/Unhelpful, Manitoba, Vet, Winnipeg | Healthy | May 6, 2019


(We have had our cat, Fritz, since he was a tiny kitten, and he’s always seen the same vet. One day, when Fritz is around eight years old, he starts spraying urine against furniture instead of going in his box. Knowing that this could be a symptom of something serious – besides being annoying and gross – I promptly make an appointment for him to see his vet.)

Vet: “Well, we’ve examined his urine for crystals, and he doesn’t have any. That can mean only one thing.” *stares at me accusingly*

Me: *after an expectant pause* “Yes?”

Vet: “You need to get him neutered. Honestly, I don’t know why you haven’t done so yet. He’s eight years old; he should have been neutered years ago.”

Me: “But–”

Vet: “No, I’m serious. This sort of spraying activity is very common in an unneutered male, and–”

Me: “But he is neutered.”

Vet: “What?”

Me: “In fact, you’re the one who did it. We had it done right after we got him from the Humane Society. It should be in his file.”

Vet: *looks at the start of the file* “Oh.”

Me: “So, something else must be causing this behaviour, right?”

Vet: *still processing the fact that he was wrong about Fritz not being fixed* “Well… are there any new cats in the neighbourhood?”

Me: “Come to think of it, yes. Our neighbour across the back lane just got a new cat. Fritz sometimes sees him through the window and hisses at him.”

Vet: “Well, there you go.” *looks at me triumphantly*

Me: “Um, what do you mean?”

Vet: “Fritz is antagonized by that new cat. He’s spraying to assert his dominance in his own home.”

Me: “Okay, so… What do I do?”

Vet: “Do? There’s nothing you can do. Apart from moving, that is!” *laughs*

(Very helpful. I started looking for a new vet after that.)

Needs A Diagnosis That’s A Breath Of Fresh Air

Houston, Jerk, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, Nurses, Texas, USA | Healthy | May 6, 2019


(I’ve always had asthma, but I usually only have issues when exercising and breathing very cold air. However, I have an event where I can’t identify a trigger and the breathing problems last for a long time. I go to the emergency room, I am told it was a panic attack and I am sent home. When things don’t clear up, I go to the school clinic where they say it’s my asthma – not a spasm like I am used to, but inflammation – and give me medication. Things clear up. Then, less than a month later, I take an overseas trip. On the flight back I catch a fever and start having stomach issues. A few days later I have to switch out with my father when driving because I don’t feel like I can both drive and focus on breathing. Because it is only a little after New Year’s, my mom doesn’t think our GP can fit us in quickly enough, so we head to an emergency clinic. Our new insurance only allows us to go to one chain in the area, and it’s thirty minutes away. There isn’t a doctor available, so we confirm we are fine with seeing the head nurse. I’m used to journaling some aspects of my health due to things like adult-onset allergies, and have written specifics of the start and stop of the symptoms in a notebook, along with details from the other attack. Sometimes I also have difficulty speaking because I’m focusing on my breathing.)

Mom: “She’s been having trouble breathing. We were here a couple of days ago because she had a stomach bug.”

Nurse: “Can you describe when this started?”

Me: “Um, I noticed I had to focus to breathe. I was really aware of my breathing. It started last night, I guess? Um… I wrote it down, if it’s easier.”

(I hand her the notebook. She looks through it, but she looks skeptical.)

Nurse: “Okay, I know what’s going on here. Honey, you’re having a panic attack.”

Me: “I don’t think it’s a panic attack! It happened before around a month ago. I have asthma—“

Nurse: “The emergency guys thought that was a panic attack, too. Listen, I know you don’t want to hear this, but this is in your brain.”

(This sets me off for multiple reasons, one of which being that I DO have anxiety, but it is controlled and not the kind that results in panic attacks. Another reason is that I’ve been misdiagnosed with “stress pains” by my father’s urologist – checking for kidney stones – when we later found out I had some muscle issues in that area that were easily taken care of with physical therapy. I should also note my mother has been making some comments, but I can’t exactly remember them. She’s mostly worried.)

Me: “But the other doctor said it was asthma! I’ve had people dismiss things like this before. But when it was checked out by someone else they found something. I have anxiety, but I don’t get those! I don’t have this problem!”

Nurse: “So, you just keep going to doctors until they say what you want to hear. But I’m telling you, this is a panic attack. You said in your notes that talking is difficult, but you’re talking fine now. You seem fine. You just need to accept this. Maybe call your therapist or psychiatrist.”

(She ends the appointment. I am pretty hysterical once we return home. I have been well functioning for years and even though I don’t believe the nurse, she put the idea in my head that I wasn’t as well off as I thought. I should also note that my mom is of the generation that often writes things off as stress, and she seems to be taking the nurse’s side, or at least playing devil’s advocate, adding to my stress. I blubber to my mom and eventually my psychiatrist’s hotline. [Psychiatrist] quickly writes a prescription for anxiety, but is very firm in telling me that most of her patients don’t end up using it and that often having it in their possession helps. She also says that if I feel I need it to only take half and assess how I feel. Honestly, I don’t feel any different. Later, my mom apologizes that she helped upset me and calls our GP.)

Mom: “[Doctor] made an opening for you tomorrow… Guess what she said, though, when I told her everything that happened.”

Me: “What?”

Mom: “In her experience, asthmatics usually have panic attacks because they can’t f****** breathe.”

(My GP gave me a steroid inhaler and I started breathing better in a few days. I later went to my asthma and allergy doctor and found out that I have a new severe allergy to dust mites, something that aggravates asthma. F*** you, nurse.)

We Are Literally Off The Charts

Bizarre, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, USA, Wisconsin | Healthy | May 6, 2019


(My father is experiencing severe vertigo, to the point where he can’t even crawl. We are in the ER waiting for his turn at the MRI. My dad is a large man with a beard. A doctor we don’t recognize walks into the room and stops short.)

Doctor: “Um…” *looks at his chart, then at Dad, then at my mom and me* “ Mrs. [Wrong Name]?”

Me: “I think you have the wrong room.”

Doctor: “I think you might be right; none of you look like you’re in labor right now.”

(We all laugh with him over his mistake and he leaves. Dad gets his MRI and is wheeled back in while we wait for the results. The same doctor comes in again.)

Doctor: “Let’s try this again, Mr. [Different Wrong Name]?”

Mom: “Nope.”

Doctor: “Nail through the foot?”

Me: “Wrong room again.”

Doctor: “D*** it. How…?”

(He checks the chart in his hands, then runs out and checks the room number.)

Doctor: “Somebody put the wrong room on the chart.”

(He runs off to find his patient. A while later, the ER doctors have run all the tests they can on Dad and still can’t find a cause. They’ve tentatively diagnosed him with a viral infection and have given him instructions for follow-up. Unfortunately, there is a multi-car pile-up and they suddenly get so busy they can’t spare anyone long enough to do the discharge paperwork. We do our best to stay out of the way. The same doctor comes in again, looks at his chart, then face-palms.)

Doctor: “Okay, none of you are a teenage girl with a broken pelvis! What the h***?!”

Mom: “We’re just such fun people that you’re making excuses to come hang out with us!”

Doctor: *laughing* “That must be it! Right!”

(I know he must have been frustrated, but I think he needed the comic relief as much as we did on that stressful night.)

The Family Tree Is Looking A Bit Sickly

Bizarre, Doctor/Physician, Medical Office, Minnesota, Patients, USA | Healthy | May 5, 2019


(I’ve got a new doctor and am giving them the rundown on my family history.)

Doctor: “I see on your form that you checked ‘yes’ to all the diseases we have listed. They all run in your family?”

Me: “Yes. I have a very large family and at least one of them has or had at least one of those diseases.”

Doctor: “Even [rare cancer]?”

Me: “Grandma died of it.”

Doctor: “Huh. Who in your family had [disease]?”

Me: “Two of my great aunts on my dad’s side, and my uncle on my mother’s side.”

Doctor: “And your family’s history of cancer… says ‘all’?”

Me: “Doctors never really believe me, but all the cancers you have listed there? Yeah, when I add up my mother’s side of the family and my father’s side, it’s all there.”

Doctor: *open-mouthed shock* “Wow.”

Me: “I get that reaction from doctors a lot.”

(For reference, my grandmother was one of nine kids, my other grandmother was one of eleven, and all of their kids had at least five kids. It’s a big family, and they’ve all had some kind of major medical issue in the past, and most of them work in the medical field. I just tell doctors to check everything when they ask what runs in the family. It saves time.)

Some People Just Can’t Stick Around

Bad Behavior, Blood Donation, Jerk, Nurses, USA | Healthy | May 4, 2019


(I’m a frequent blood donor. I have large, easy veins, don’t flinch or get queasy around blood or needles, and am known at the clinic, so I often get the least experienced workers. Sometimes the new, nervous ones aren’t the best, but I figure practice makes perfect, and their mistakes — like not being gentle or having a bad angle on the needle — don’t bother me. Usually.)

Tech: “Hi. I’m [Tech] and I’m going to be drawing your blood today.” *continues with the standard script and questions* “Have you donated blood with us before?”

Me: “A few dozen times; I’m here every eight weeks on the dot. How long have you been at [Clinic]?”

Tech: “Today is my first day!”

Me: “Well, congratulations! I’ll make your job really easy, then. I’m well hydrated and have nice, big veins for you.”

(The tech starts prepping the bag and needle, muttering the steps to herself. She somehow manages to poke herself with the needle.)

Tech: “Oh, shoot, I need to go and dispose of this and reglove.”

Me: “No worries. I’m in no rush. Take your time.”

(The tech comes back, looking slightly pale and panicked. I try to smile at her, but she just seems to be getting progressively more flustered. She tries to stick my vein and misses.)

Tech: “Oh, I’m so sorry. Can I try again?”

Me: *smiling again* “Of course, take a few deep breaths and try again.”

(The tech tries again. And again. Then, she drops the needle and has to get another other. The whole time, I’m trying to calm her down as she seems to be upset with herself.)

Me: “Now, I know I’m not officially trained, but I’ve had a lot of needles stuck in me. Slow down a bit. Breath deeply a few times. The vein is right there. You can do this.”

Tech: *mutters quietly but rapidly under her breath while getting paler*

(She tries to stick me three more times, somehow missing my vein every time. Her hands are shaking and she appears on the verge of tears.)

Me: “Hey, it’s okay. This is a tough job. Why don’t we call over one of the more experienced nurses?”

Tech: “No, no, no, I can do this. Really.”

(She proceeds to stick me five more times, at worse and worse angles. I’m slowly losing patience with her. She’s now trying to stick me with a needle that is practically perpendicular to my arm. She still hasn’t been able to actually hit my vein. What is usually a twenty-minute deal has taken almost an hour.)

Me: “Okay. Get a nurse now. They can help you out.”

Tech: “No!”

(She then rather aggressively jams the needle into my arm, hitting a nerve and nowhere near a vein. I swear like a sailor and rip the needle out of my arm.)

Me: “Listen up. I have been beyond patient here. Get me a d*** nurse. Now.”

Tech: “They’re all busy right now!”

Me: “Okay, fine. F*** it.”

(I then insert the needle into my own vein in one go. The tech looks stunned.)

Me: “Hook up the collection bag and then get me a nurse and get the h*** away from me.”

Tech: *in a shrill voice* “You can’t do that! You can’t! You can’t!”

(The head nurse hears the commotion and comes over.)

Nurse: “What is going on over here? [My Name], why are you still here? I checked you in an hour ago!”

Me: “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, [Nurse].”

(The tech was never seen at that clinic again.)

Groundhog Dad

California, Health & Body, Hospital, Parents/Guardians, Patients, USA | Healthy | May 3, 2019


(My boyfriend and I are woken up by a phone call at six am from his 15-year-old sister saying, “Something is wrong with Dad; you need to get to the hospital.” We live 100 miles away, so I tell my boyfriend to go now and I will pack a few things and meet him up there. When I get up there I find out he has hydrocephalus, or water on the brain, which is a fairly rare disorder that typically happens to infants and people over 60. My boyfriend’s father is 47. It causes fluid to build up and put pressure on the brain. They release the pressure by removing parts of his skull. The next day, a nurse is in with him and my boyfriend’s mom comes out to talk to us.)

Mom: “They think he’s going to be okay, but right now we either have to sit with him or they have to restrain him. Otherwise, he might hurt himself; he can’t remember what is going on. Can you go sit with him for a while? I need a break.”

(We agree and go in.)

Boyfriend: “Hi, Dad!”

Dad: “Hi… Where am I?”

Boyfriend: “You’re in the hospital; you’re going to be fine. You just got sick and the doctors are going to help you.”

Dad: “Well, that was mighty inconvenient of me.”

Boyfriend: *laughing* “Just a touch.”

(My boyfriend’s father’s head starts to dip and his eyes slide to the side and become unfocused. Then, his head comes back up and he sees us and smiles.)

Dad: “Hi, guys! What are you doing here? Wait. Where am I?”

Boyfriend: *trying not to cry* “Hi, Dad. You’re in the hospital; you’re going to be fine.”

Dad: *laughing* “Well, that was mighty inconvenient of me.”

(Then, his head starts to dip. My boyfriend and I look at each other, both of us trying not to cry.)

Dad: “Hi, guys! What are you doing here?”

(I step over to his bed and take his hand.)

Me: “Hi, Dad. You had a small accident you’re going to be fine.”

(We stayed with him for a couple of hours having the same conversation. I had seen short-term memory loss on TV but thought it was an exaggeration. It’s not. Thankfully, he really was, overall, okay.)

Talking Complete Bull-imia

Chile, Dentist, Jerk, Santiago | Healthy | May 3, 2019


(I have recently changed my dentist. I’m 30 and I have never had any cavities before, but I go to a consult since I notice something weird in two of my teeth. I suspect they are cavities but they don’t hurt or bother me at all, and I don’t know what cavities look like.)

Dentist: “You have four cavities! What a disaster!”

Me: “Well, it’s the first four in 30 years.”

Dentist: “This looks so bad! We need x-rays!”

Me: “I’d have come earlier but they didn’t hurt and they look very small, so it took me a while to notice them.”

Dentist: “Four cavities! This is insane! Are you bulimic?”

Me: “No.”

Dentist: “You sure? It clearly looks like bulimia.”

Me: “I’m not bulimic. I’m not alcohol abusive, either; I barely ever throw up.”

(The doctor doesn’t believe me, and sends me to do the x-rays. I come back to have the cavities fixed.)

Dentist: “Are you sure you don’t throw up? This amount of cavities is not normal!”

(By then, I feel filthy. I don’t throw up and I brush my teeth, but the big deal she is making makes it look like I am her worst case in years. She fixes my cavities, which are all very superficial, and I go home pretty worried and thinking about buying a different mouthwash, toothbrush, and toothpaste. My boyfriend is having some friends over and I tell them what happened.)

Friend: “Four in your life? I get four cavities removed every time I go to the dentist!”

Boyfriend: “You can’t see them because they are in the back of my mouth, but I’ve had several big fixes.”

(The following day, two of my four fixes fall out while I’m brushing my teeth. I go to have them re-fixed. The dentist keeps telling me to suck it up, still implying I have an eating disorder. The remaining two fall out within a month, but this time I go to a different professional. I’m already expecting to get yelled at for my poor dental condition.)

Dentist #2 : “Hi, darling! You look good! Let’s fix these, shall we?”

(She is now my usual dentist.)

Eye Don’t Understand What’s Happening Here

Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Kentucky, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | May 3, 2019


(I wear contacts, and I’ve had problems seeing when using my contacts for a while now. It has finally gotten to the point where I can’t stand it and go to the eye doctor to get my prescription checked. A student does the actual exam and finds my new prescription, and I can already tell a difference. She leaves and the actual doctor comes in.)

Doctor: *takes a look at the paperwork the student completed* “Well, it looks like your prescription stayed the same, so you can just order some more of the same contacts.”

Me: *shocked* “Really? I’ve been having double vision and I can’t focus my eyes at a close range very well.”

Doctor: “Nope, it’s the same. Are you sure you’re having problems?”

Me: “Yes, I’ve also been getting headaches from straining my eyes to focus.”

Doctor: *repeats the exam TWICE to find my eye prescription* “Well, I found the same thing she did, which is a slight decrease in prescription in your right eye. This is very unusual since eyesight doesn’t normally get better with time, so I think your prescription should stay the same.”

(We go back and forth a few times; I keep insisting that I need a change. It’s very unusual for me to advocate for myself this much, but I really can’t take the eye strain anymore so I KNOW I can’t stay with the same prescription. He finally agrees to let me try the lower prescription on a trial and come back in two weeks to see how I like it. The trial contacts have to be ordered by the receptionist, and I notice the doctor go around and point to the screen and tell her to “order these instead,” but I don’t think anything of it. I go back in a week when they come in. The receptionist hands me the trial contacts and I have a look at the prescription number.)

Me: *confused and irritated look on my face*

Receptionist: “Is something wrong? You look confused.”

Me: “These are supposed to be trial contacts for a new prescription. Why are they the same as my current contacts?”

Receptionist: *takes the contacts back, looks at her computer and back at the contacts, and starts getting flustered* “Um, I don’t know. Let me look at this…”

(She eventually got a different doctor in the practice to come to look at my file. The other doctor took one look at my file, immediately went to get me the correct contacts — which DIDN’T have to be ordered — and told me to come back and see her instead of the first doctor. At my appointment with her, she told me that my prescription should actually be even lower than the first doctor prescribed. The only conclusion I can come up with is that the first doctor didn’t believe me and was trying to trick me into staying with the same prescription, twice! [Doctor], why was it so hard for you to believe I couldn’t see?!)

A Shot Of Humanity

Awesome, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Nurses, USA | Healthy | May 2, 2019


(I have a serious phobia of needles due to a traumatic incident when I was a child, and because of this I always need someone present with me to cope with the situation. I am due to have very minor surgery on my arm, but I will need two needles during the operation. My boyfriend schedules off to go with me, but on the day of, he is called into work. I can’t cancel or I will incur a large fee, so I decide to tough it out and go. When I am called into the room, the nurse starts asking me questions, and I let her know that I have a phobia of needles. As soon as she leaves the room I enter into hysterics. I end up calling a friend, and he calms me down by the time the doctor returns with the nurse. They keep my friend on speaker, the nurse holds my hand, and they all keep me laughing so much I don’t have time to cry. These are just some of my favorite moments from the hour-long procedure.)

Doctor: “You’re telling me you’re getting birth control, but you’re afraid of a little prick?”

(Another moment…)

Friend: “You still alive over there?”

Me: “I sure hope so. Is everything going all right?”

Doctor: “Oh, you’ll know something’s wrong when you hear me walk out the door saying, ‘I am not dealing with that paperwork today.’”

(Another moment…)

Me: *to nurse* “Is it really bad?”

Nurse: “Don’t ask me, I’m not looking! Why do you think I need to hold your hand?!”

(Another moment…)

Me: “Thank you so much for being so nice to me. I know, as an adult, I should be able to handle this all by now. I know it’s not logical; I just work myself up and go into hysterics.”

Doctor: “And while you were in the room with me, you didn’t cry once. Sometimes it’s not your fault that you’re scared. Sometimes it’s the fault of the people around you for not knowing how to make you feel safe.”

(I can’t thank those three enough for not only making a terrible experience into a great memory, but for helping relieve some of the self-hatred I had due to my phobia. If I ever need a shot again, I know exactly where I want to go!)

Bringing Your Emergency To The Emergency Room

Doctor/Physician, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, USA | Healthy | May 2, 2019


A standard practice in the US is for pharmacies to call physicians for refills on prescriptions, not patients. If there are issues with getting refills, the physician’s office will contact the patient for a visit.

I’m currently seeing a new physician who I’m not happy with, but the waitlist is two months long to see a different doctor. I’ve found that this doctor doesn’t listen and doesn’t seem to take mental health issues seriously. She tried to switch my medications — without telling me — despite the fact that I’ve been stable on this medication for over five years. She also accused me of faking foot pain, despite evidence that I had an untreated break in my foot two years ago which didn’t heal well, and tried to convince me to get unnecessarily invasive tests at a specialist clinic for no reason. She also made me get tested for Hepatitis and HIV because I have tattoos — which are all over a year old — even though I just had those tests done two months prior as part of my regular checkup with my old doctor, which was in my medical record.

I’m on a mental health medication known for terrible withdrawal symptoms after just one missed dose. It’s very important that I take it every single day. I notice that I am out of refills, so I notify my pharmacy and they send out a refill request. It is denied because I still have a month left. I have the pharmacy send in another refill request two weeks later. The doctor doesn’t respond. The pharmacy contacts me, saying there were some issues and they can’t get a refill. I call my doctor’s office. They say they will have my doctor send in a refill that day. Still no refill and no request for an appointment. I call again two days later, still nothing. I now have less than a week left. I call every day for the rest of the week, still nothing. On Saturday morning, I’m tired and scared because I’m out of medication and don’t have any refills. I decide to go to the ER because it’s the closest place open on a weekend; there are two urgent care centers but one isn’t open on weekends and the other doesn’t have someone who can write prescriptions working that day.

I go into the ER and explain my issue. I’m clearly not having an emergency, but thankfully there are no other patients that morning and they’re able to write me a one-week prescription and send me on my way in under thirty minutes. While I’m at the ER, I’m clearly frustrated but grateful for the lovely doctor and nurse who are assisting me. The nurse gives me a giant hug and a chocolate muffin from the break room, and both the doctor and the nurse file a report against my doctor.

Monday morning at eight am, I get a call from my doctor’s boss. She saw on my chart that I had an ER visit for the sole purpose of getting a medication refill and wanted to know why. I explained the situation, and also mentioned being worried that I couldn’t afford an ER bill because emergency room visits aren’t covered under my insurance if they’re not considered an actual emergency, such as a broken limb.

A few days later, I check my insurance claims to see what my ER bill is going to be, expecting a bill of at least $2,000 out-of-pocket. My entire ER bill has been comped, as well as my past visits with the terrible doctor. I end up paying $0 for the entire debacle. I also get a three-month refill instead of one month, and it is also comped instead of the usual $45 per month.

I have since found a new physician, but at the same clinic because they went so far above and beyond to correct one doctor’s mistakes.

Has A Bad Ring(worm) To It

Bad Behavior, Doctor/Physician, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, USA | Healthy | May 2, 2019


When I was very young, my family lived in a rural area where we only had access to one clinic that took our health insurance. While we could have driven into the city — about three hours — if there had ever been a situation that the clinic couldn’t handle or if we’d needed a special consultation, for the most part, my parents stuck with the local clinic. The clinic was very small; I don’t believe that there were ever more than four doctors on staff, and most of them were not there full time. Although the clinic tried to hire doctors who practiced family medicine — so they could see all ages of patients — there was one pediatrician on staff, and because of this, my brother and I were just automatically sent to him, as were most kids in our area. He often rushed through appointments and was impatient when my parents had questions, although since my brother and I were generally healthy kids, our family didn’t have too many issues with him… until I was four.

When I was four, I developed a strange rash on my neck, back, and legs. My mom took me to the clinic, where the pediatrician took one look and said that I had ringworm. He prescribed a salve, an oral antifungal medication, and an antifungal shampoo, since the rash on my neck was near my hairline and ringworm can cause permanent hair loss if it develops on your scalp. I was on the medication for over a month before the symptoms subsided, and we thought that it was over… until I had another rash a few months after that. And a few months after that. The doctor kept prescribing the same regime every time. I was miserable because the oral medication messed up my stomach, and my parents were driving themselves crazy trying to sanitize anything that I ever came into contact with to hopefully prevent a recurrence and to avoid my brother getting infected.

This happened about four times over the course of two years; although my parents asked if there could possibly be something else going on, since ringworm is not supposed to be a chronic condition, the doctor blew them off every time and essentially told them not to question his authority, since he’d gone to school for this and they hadn’t. He was very condescending, and when my parents asked for advice, he’d just repeat stuff about hygiene and washing up. My parents had actually just decided to take me into the city for a second opinion if I had another rash when the usual doctor stepped down and we got a new one.

My parents brought my brother and me in for our flu shots, and the new doctor noticed the beginnings of the rash on my arm. He asked my parents about it, and they told him that they weren’t interested in putting me on the same antifungals since they clearly weren’t working and were just making me miserable. He was confused and asked why I’d be on antifungals for eczema. A couple of quick tests confirmed that he was correct, that I definitely didn’t have ringworm, and instead of multiple infections, I had one condition that flared up every few months. I got a prescription for an anti-inflammatory cream, and the doctor suggested that my mom change our laundry detergent, and then the rash was handled. But that wasn’t the end of the story.

The new doctor checked my file and confirmed that the old doctor hadn’t done any testing to diagnose me the first time — no black-light test, no biopsies or cultures, nothing — and had just marked that it visually presented as ringworm. Each subsequent time I came in, the old doctor stuck to that rather than reassess. After that, my parents requested a copy of my file, and then saw the notes that the old doctor had made, which basically amounted to him complaining about working with dirty, poor, uneducated families who couldn’t keep their kids clean. He hadn’t bothered to do any further testing when my parents told him that they’d complied with all his suggestions for how to make sure that I didn’t catch “ringworm” again, because he just assumed that anyone who lived in our rural area must be a dumb, ignorant hick who couldn’t really value hygiene.

My parents were furious. We later learned that he had been asked to step down from his position in the clinic precisely because he’d had this attitude with most of the families who came into the clinic, and had said as much to one of the nurses, not realizing that a patient had overheard. One of the things he must not have realized about smaller communities like ours is that word spreads like wildfire. Dozens of families were suddenly requesting records for their children, and people found multiple stories like mine where the pediatrician diagnosed without testing, or made assumptions about families that impacted the way he handled their treatment. There was a community-wide effort to send complaints to the state medical board. I know that there was at least one successful lawsuit against him, and last I heard, that pediatrician’s license to practice medicine was revoked.

Meanwhile, our new doctor treated my eczema, saved my brother’s life during an allergic reaction, became a hero in our community for doing house calls, and has received state-wide recognition for being willing to go above and beyond for his patients.

Your Strong Opinion Is Not Strong Enough

Doctor/Physician, Hawaii, Honolulu, Jerk, Medical Office, Nurses, USA | Healthy | May 1, 2019


(My one-and-a-half-year-old needs a TB test — for the curious, it turns out negative. She’s always been very strong, and I know it’s going to be tricky to get her to hold still for the jab, so I offer to help the technician.)

Me: “She’s pretty strong; would you like me to help hold her?”

Tech: *eyes rolling and voice dripping with sarcasm* “I’m just sure she is. Every parent says that.”

Me: *stepping back* “Okay, have fun.”

(For the next few minutes, the tech finds himself unable to do the quick little jab because my daughter is able to fight him off. Finally, he admits defeat.)

Tech: “Could you hold her, please?”

Me: *sickly sweet* “I’d be happy to.”

(I wrapped my arms and legs around her tightly, and it was still a struggle, but the tech administered the test. If he’d just humored me instead of being condescending, it would have been much easier for him!)

Putting The Lying Into Lying Down

Bad Behavior, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, USA, Utah | Healthy | May 1, 2019


(I have epilepsy and have had several partial-complex seizures. I have been delivered by ambulance to the city hospital; unfortunately, the neurologist on call is one who I stopped seeing when he accused me of faking seizures in order to get attention, possibly because he is friendly with the neurologist who molested me when I was a teen.)

ER Nurse: “Her ID says she has epilepsy. We need to make sure she’s had her medication today.”

Neurologist: “There’s no need. She’s just being dramatic.” *to me* “[My Name]! Stop trying to make everyone feel sorry for you.” *to the nurse* “Give her some [anxiety medication]. She’ll tell you it gives her panic attacks; she’s a chronic liar. Just do it.”

(I am not sure what happens next, but I wake up in the darkened room alone. Confused and sick, I throw up in a trash bin and wander down an empty hall until I find an exit. I remember walking blankly until I find a street sign, then calling my sister and asking her to pick me up. About an hour later, I am home in bed when the phone rings and my mother answers.)

Caller: “This is [Caller] from [Hospital]. Your daughter was here earlier today. She isn’t currently in the room and hasn’t been seen in a few hours; would you like us to begin looking for her?”

Mother: “She’s with us now, and safe, no thanks to you.”

Caller: “Oh, okay. When can she come in to give us her billing information?”

(I did go back, with my parents… and a lawyer. He suggested that charging me for improper treatment that I had never consented to, and had been harmed by, might not be in their best interest. They dropped the bill. They also sent my mother flowers, which was weird.)

“Purely” Obnoxious

Bad Behavior, Doctor/Physician, Illinois, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | May 1, 2019


(I have been battling a lot of stomach pain and bloating. One day, it becomes unbearable. My regular doctor’s office is closed, so I go to Urgent Care. The doctor comes in and asks what my symptoms are. I’ve just finished describing them to her.)

Doctor: “And is there any chance you’re pregnant?”

Me: *laughs* “Nope. No chance.”

Doctor: “Don’t laugh, young lady. It’s a normal diagnosis for a young lady in her 20s.”

Me: “I understand that. But if I’m pregnant, you’d better start looking for a star, three wise men, and some shepherds.”

(I’ve used this joke with my regular doctor and my OBGYN, and they both laughed. This doctor, however, frowns and folds her arms.)

Doctor: “Uh-huh. Your chart says you’re on birth control. Tell me, what does a ‘virgin’ need birth control for?”

(Yes, she actually air-quotes “virgin” with her fingers. I explode.)

Me: “Because I have severe period problems, and I can’t afford to be in bed for two weeks a month with cramps and migraines! Not everyone who is on birth control does it so they can have sex! Way to assume things, though. Do you do this to all your female patients?”

Doctor: “Um… Let’s just check your stomach, shall we?”

Me: “Yes, please!”

(As she’s examining me:)

Doctor: “Ah… I think it’s really admirable to see a young lady in her 20s who is still… pure.”

Me: “Don’t try to make this better.”

Doctor: “Sorry.”

(She announced that she had no idea what I had, and sent me home with an antibiotic. I didn’t take it. I called my regular doctor when the office reopened. He ordered a bunch of tests. It was determined later that I had a nasty case of IBS.)