You’re In Deep Heat Now

Medical Office, Time, UK | Healthy | January 1, 2018


(A woman waddles into the building.)

Woman: “I need to see a doctor.”

Me: “Do you have an appointment?”

Woman: “No, I need to see one now.”

Me: “I’m sorry, emergency appointments ended at 11. I can make you an appointment, however, for next week?”

Woman: “NO! IT HAS TO BE NOW!”

Me: “If it’s an emergency you need to go to A&E. Should i call an ambulance?”

Woman: *jumping on the desk* “I RUBBED ‘DEEP HEAT’ ON MY GARDEN PATCH. IT F****** KILLS!”

Me: “Oh, umm. Like I said, if it’s an emergency, you need to go to A&E.”

(She huffed and waddled out, screaming about how incompetent we all were. I haven’t seen her personally since, but a letter came through from the local hospital for her, with a prescription for something which treats chemical burns. I’m fairly certain Deep Heat wasn’t involved in whatever she was doing.)

Might Need Brain Surgery, Too

Medical Office, USA | Healthy | January 1, 2018


(My mid-60s father was recently goofing off and pulled a stunt where he rode a luggage cart down a hill and wiped out hard. The injuries are mostly scrapes and bruises but he also has a small break in his wrist. There is lots of back-and-forth over whether he needs to do a re-aligning surgery. He is in the doctor’s office consulting with the surgeon, who he said was barely 30.)

Doctor: “So how did this happen?”

Dad: “You want the real story or a version that makes me look better?”

Doctor: “…how about the real version?”

Dad: *recounts story*

Doctor: “I see. Well, to be honest with you, we don’t like to do these kinds of surgeries on patients over the age of 60 because [reasons].”

Dad: “Well, yes, I’m over that age, but if you’ll recall the story, I was clearly thinking like a 16-year-old.”

Doctor: “That’s a good point. We’ll schedule the surgery for tomorrow morning.”

Flipping Out Over This

California, Hospital, Los Angeles, USA | Healthy | January 1, 2018


(I accidentally remove most of the tip of my middle finger with a gardening tool and am getting fixed up in the ER.)

Nurse: “There you go. Would you like me to tape your middle finger to the one next to it?”

Me: “Um, no. Why would you?”

Nurse: “Well, sometimes with a injury to the middle finger people ask us to tape an adjacent finger too so that they don’t inadvertently flip other people off.”

Me: “Are you kidding? This is the opportunity I’ve been waiting for!”

Acerbic Allergic

Alberta, Canada, Medical Office | Healthy | December 31, 2017


(I am 15. In my family, most of the women on my mom’s side have a condition called Restless Leg Syndrome, which is a brutally frustrating tic where your muscles in your thigh and calf feel like they are in spasm, like a small electric shock. It comes randomly, and nothing seems to help it stop once an episode starts; you just have to ride it out. I’ve been dealing with this myself since I was a kid. What my mom thought were growing pains turned out to be RLS. I’ve been referred to a specialist to see what my options are. Part of the process is conducting a nerve path function test. I have small needles pointed into the tips of my fingers, with electrical simulation higher up my arms to track if the signal is flowing properly. The test is uncomfortable to say the least.)

Specialist: “The results seem to be okay for your arms, which is a good indication that your legs would reveal the same.”

Me: “No short circuit, then? Bonus!”

(I am trying to lighten the mood as my mom is stressed at seeing me in such discomfort, and I am trying to take my mind off of it as well.)

Specialist: *stares blankly at me* “Your RLS is likely caused by poor diet and lack of exercise and in many cases, alcohol.”

Me: “Well, geeze, Mom, if you had just laid off the whiskey at bedtime, we wouldn’t be here now!”

Specialist: *blank stare* “In the event we have to do a minor surgery to explore nerve function, is there anything you’re allergic to in terms of medication?”

Me: “Penicillin.”

Specialist: “And what happens when you take it?”

Me: “I get a terrible rash over my stomach and chest and become very sick to my stomach.”

Specialist: “So you’re not allergic to it.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Specialist: “You’re not allergic to it. You wouldn’t die if it was given to you.”

Me: “Well, no, I guess not but—”

Specialist: “That’s an intolerance. You shouldn’t say you are allergic to penicillin. What if it was required to save your life from an infection?”

Mom: “Well, there are plenty of alternatives out there, I think it’s a semi-common allergy? She’s had to have antibiotics for various infections, and they always seem to find something else.”

Specialist: *to my mom* “Do you have allergies?”

Mom: “Yes, I’m allergic to strawberries.”

Specialist: “And what happens if you eat them?”

Mom: “Well I go into anaphylactic shock very fast.”

Specialist: “THAT, is an allergy. I’m not writing on your chart that you’re allergic to penicillin. See the front reception to re-book when you’re ready.”

(He promptly leaves, with my mom and I sitting in stunned silence. I suppose he was right — I wouldn’t die if I was given penicillin in an emergency, but the marvel’s of modern medicine mean I don’t have to when there are so many alternatives. I am careful to tell other doctors now, that it’s not a life threatening allergy, but to avoid it if possible!)

It Takes More Than Money To Clear A Bill, Part 2

Insurance, Nebraska, Non-Dialogue, Omaha, USA | Healthy | December 30, 2017


Several years ago, I started to receive bills at my home in Nebraska, from an insurance agency on a policy that I no longer had, denying payment for psychiatric care/services. When I got the first bill, I called the number listed for the practice — in North Carolina. It turns out that they had a patient with the same name, down to the middle initial, and the same birthday. The doctor’s office agreed that I was not their patient, but said that it was up to the insurance carrier to sort out.

Three weeks after I contacted the insurance company letting them know I was not the right person, I got a letter in the mail telling me that according to their records, I *was* the right person, and could I please pay the bill. So I contacted them again. I was assured that it would be straightened out.

Sure enough, I got another letter in the mail from the insurance company telling me that their “investigation” is complete, and that I am the “right” person after all, in spite of living half-way across the country.

This back and forth with the insurance company went on for SIX MONTHS, each time the insurance people coming back telling me that I had made these appointments for psychiatric care, and increasingly nasty demands for payment.

Finally, I contacted a college buddy who was a lawyer for [Insurance Company], where upon he taught me the magic words: Violation of HIPAA.

Finally after nearly seven months, the magic words did the trick. I later found out that the insurance billing department was looking up patient information by name and birth date instead of social security number, and that my name was apparently the first one listed, in spite of the fact that my policy had been cancelled over four years prior due to a job change.

Related:
It Takes More Than Money To Clear A Bill

It Takes More Than Money To Clear A Bill

Columbia, Medical Office, South Carolina, USA | Healthy | December 1, 2017


(I get about a $3,000 bill from a doctor I had seen several months prior. I am confused because I know my insurance had paid it. I call the billing dept. but get no answer and leave a message. I forget about it until the next month when the bill comes again. Once again, I call, leave a message, and forget about it. Then I get a letter threatening to send me to a collection agency. I call my insurance company to double check. They tell me that not only have they paid it, but had a duplicate charge under a different account number that was of course denied. I start calling every other day. The office phones aren’t open until 10 am and they shut them down at 3:30 pm. I either get a recording and leave a message or the receptionist tells me everyone is in a meeting. This goes on for over three weeks. Then I get another threatening letter. I even go to the office in person but am told everyone is in a meeting and no one can talk to me. At this point I have had it. I wait until 10 pm at night. I call and get the voicemail system. When it says press “1” for nurse, I do so and leave a detailed, angry message that NO ONE will return my calls, I am being threatened with being sent to a collection agency for a bill that was paid, and someone better call me back or I am filing fraud charges with the insurance company and talking to a lawyer. I hang up and call back and do it again after pressing a number for a different department. I go through the entire employee directory. I do this for almost two hours and leave dozens of messages on EVERY SINGLE EMPLOYEE’S voicemail. I then call the doctor’s emergency after-hours line and leave the same message there. The next morning, at 10:01, I call the office. The receptionist recognizes my voice.)

Receptionist: “Yes, ma’am, I have the office manager here for you” *transfers me*

Manager: “Good morning, Mrs. [My Name]. I was just about to call you.”

Me: “Yeah, I bet you were.”

Manager: *sheepishly* “Yeah, everyone is talking about the messages you left, especially the doctor.”

Me: “Well, it’s not like you left me much choice.”

(She apologizes and explains. The guy who was handling the bills was creating fake patient accounts and double billing the insurance companies. Most didn’t catch it, paid the doctor, and then the guy stole the money. They fired him but have such a paperwork mess to clean up and had to gather the evidence to convict him that they didn’t have time to call the patients.)

Me: “I understand, but that is no excuse. You are sending me letters threatening to send me to a collection agency.”

Manager: “What?! Crap, the computers are printing those out automatically. We didn’t know any had been mailed out.”

Me: “Yeah, well they are and you better start answering these calls because you have some very peeved off patients who, like me, are calling lawyers.”

(She apologized again and told me that my account had been cleared up. I wonder, though, about all the others who just kept calling and getting nowhere.)

The Solution Is As Clear As Glass

England, Manchester, Optician, UK | Healthy | December 29, 2017


(I need to get new spectacles, so I get assessed. During the sight test, the optometrist notices I have the start of macular degeneration in one eye, tells me it isn’t serious at the moment, but warns me to watch out for lines appearing wavy when they should be straight. She gives me a leaflet to put on my fridge door, so that I’ll look at it several times a day and be aware of the need to check. She also instructs me to come straight back for another test if anything changes. This all freaks me out a bit because I’ve never heard of macular degeneration, so I dutifully put the leaflet on my fridge door and inspect that thing every time I go in the fridge, for about a month. I start noticing the sight in my left eye is quite blurry. So, off I trot back to the optometrist. I explain everything to the receptionist, then the optometrist, a different one to my first visit. He sight-checks me then leaves the room for a few minutes. He comes back in and asks if I mind him checking again. I don’t mind, but by now I’m sweating and my imagination’s working overtime. He does the same tests and asks me to explain again what the problem is.)

Me: “Look. I cover up my right eye…” *demonstrates* “… and you’re blurry. I cover up my left eye instead…” *demonstrates* “… and you’re not blurry.”

Optometrist: “Well, Mrs [My Name], both sight tests we’ve conducted today show no changes to the other test we did recently.”

Me: “Seriously? But I’ve definitely got strange vision in my left eye? How is that, if the test results are the same? Look, doctor, if it’s psychosomatic, tell me. If you think I’m dreaming it up because I’m so worried about losing my sight and I need a psychiatrist, just tell me straight. I really can handle it.”

(By this time, I’m near tears. I don’t know whether I’m losing my sight or my marbles.)

Optometrist: “Show me again.”

(Demonstrates covering up the eyes, etc.)

Optometrist: “I… might be a bit off course here but… did we provide your glasses?”

Me: “Of course, yes.”

Optometrist: “It looks like the common denominator is your glasses. Let’s get them realigned and see.”

(Aaaand I felt a fool. Mind you, so should they, too. My ‘demonstrations ’ of blurry vs normal sight were done wearing my specs. The sight tests had been done WITHOUT my specs. It turned out there was a minuscule adjustment needed for the left lens. He brought my specs back and the blurred vision was gone. At least I know I haven’t lost my marbles yet. Not about that, at least.)

Your Blood Or Your Wallet

Hospital, USA | Healthy | December 29, 2017


(The phlebotomists in our blood draw station are completely tired of the vampire jokes. They’re just overused. But not wanting to be jerks, and also realizing that the joke is a way for some people to deal with their discomfort over blood draws, our phlebotomists mostly politely laugh. One of our phlebotomists found a way to do one better.)

Patient: “Is this where the vampires are?”

Phlebotomist: “Nah. They’re all down in billing. You here for a blood draw?”

There’s A Slight Baby Bump In That Diagnosis

Medical Office, UK | Healthy | December 28, 2017


(I am a female in my late 20s. I was in a serious car accident after which some of my organs were damaged and some had to be removed. As a result I am on a cocktail of drugs to keep me functioning. I’ve gone to the doctor’s office as I have been suffering from dizzy spells and sickness, which could be problems with my current medication. I don’t get my usual doctor but this doctor — who is male — seems fairly friendly. He’s asking me questions about what I’m experiencing and is making notes. He has asked about my medication as well, which I’ve told him about, including my hormone replacement ones, but doesn’t ask me why and I don’t volunteer that information.)

Me: “Will I need to come back for tests?”

Doctor: “You won’t. I know what’s wrong”

Me: *somewhat glad* “Oh, really? Is it [Medication Brand]? I was warned—”

Doctor: *shaking his head but smiling warmly* “Oh, no, no, no. Nothing serious. In fact quite a happy diagnosis! You’re pregnant!”

(There’s a pause, whilst he grins at me and I feel myself getting irritated.)

Me: “That’s impossible.”

(He gives me a funny look and gets snappy.)

Doctor: “You’re using something that boosts probability to get pregnant, and you’re shocked. Birth control methods like condoms aren’t 100%, and if you didn’t want to get pregnant I’d suggest you got a coil, which is a bit late now.”

Me: “Did you even look at my notes?”

Doctor: “I don’t need to look to know what this is. Dizziness and sickness are common during early pregnancy.”

Me: “If you did, you’ll see the hormone therapy is because I no longer have my reproductive system.”

(He goes very quiet and turns to his computer.)

Doctor: “There’s a slot open in a fortnight for blood draw. Same time but on Wednesday. Is that okay?”

Me: “Fine.”

(I didn’t get an apology from him. The tests did show that one of my medications is thinning my blood, so with a few tweaks I was feeling okay again. I didn’t get, though, why doctors have full notes but don’t consult them before making a diagnosis. I never wanted kids so I was more annoyed than anything but some would have been devastated with that gaff.)

Building A Wall Between Them And Common Sense

Insurance, Minnesota, Politics, USA | Healthy | December 28, 2017


(I work for an insurance nurse-line helping people with injury and illness questions. We are required by HIPAA to fully verify a member before discussing any specific issues or giving specific information on their health plan. There have been a number of people who object to HIPAA law, but this one takes the cake. The member in question doesn’t have her ID card on her and doesn’t want to use alternative methods to verify who she is.)

Member: “But I didn’t know I’d need to identify myself. Why can’t you just give me the information I need?”

Me: “Federal privacy law, called HIPAA, does not allow us to discuss or give out information to unauthorized people.”

Member: “But that’s a dumb law and President Trump doesn’t allow dumb laws, so you need to give me the information I asked for!”

Have A Bad Feeling About This

Maryland, Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, USA | Healthy | December 28, 2017


I have a regular gynecologist who I’ve been seeing for several years. Usually before she begins the exam, she’ll touch the speculum to my thigh, and move it up my leg, saying ‘Feel this, feel this,’ to get me used to the feel and temperature before she begins the exam. Today, she’s asked me if it’s all right if an intern does my exam while she supervises, and I agree.

The intern is super nervous, and admits to me that I’m the first patient today that’s agreed to it. When she begins the exam, she picks up the speculum and starts tapping it to the side of my knee. “Um, so… You’ll feel this…”

My doctor and I both burst out laughing, and my doctor had to correct her. I hope I didn’t break her confidence!

Addicted To This Routine

Prestonpans, Scotland, Supermarket, UK | Healthy | December 27, 2017


(Our supermarket has a resident addict. Somewhere in there is a nice guy who made some very bad decisions some time ago. He is permanently off his face on whatever he can get his hands on. Some variant on this conversation takes place at least daily:)

Member Of Staff: “Right, [Addict], you’ll need to go. You’re barred, remember?”

Addict: “Am I? Why?”

Member Of Staff: “Because you keep trying to nick stuff.”

Addict: “Well, yes, I do, but I don’t remember being barred for it.”

Member Of Staff: “You were off your face at the time, so you probably wouldn’t, but you are. Trust me.”

Addict: “Well, if you say so. Will I remember this conversation tomorrow?”

Member Of Staff: “Probably not.”

Addict: “Right, well. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” *leaves*

Ignoring The Sticking Point

Hospital, Montana, USA | Healthy | December 27, 2017


(My husband has sliced his thumb open at work and after an hour of convincing him, I manage to get him into the ER. The doctor looks at it and determines it needs stitches, plus he needs a tetanus booster, and so the nurse gets the shot ready. This happens with me and [Nurse #1 ] talking to him on his right, and [Nurse #2 ] on his left prepping for the injection.)

Husband: “Okay, just… I don’t know… Let me get a deep breath before you inject me.”

Nurse #1 : “Are you afraid of needles? It’ll be a quick pinch and done, way less than slicing your thumb open.”

Me: “Exactly. It’s so quick. Remember all of the times you donated plasma? The needle is smaller and you barely feel it.”

(In the meantime, [Nurse #2 ] has prepped him and has uncapped the needle. She gives us a little nod and sticks him while we continue talking.)

Husband: “I know; it’s just irrational and my thumb hurts and it’s just overwhelming!”

Nurse #1 : “You used to give plasma? That’s awesome! What do they use, like 15 gauge?”

(The other nurse is done now and cleaning up.)

Me: “No, 12. The needles are HUGE!”

Nurse #1 : “Oh, geez. Well these are only 25 gauge, so super tiny compared to what you’re used to.”

Husband: “Yeah. I suppose. It wasn’t so bad, I just hated that cold feeling when they put the blood back into you.” *deep breath before turning to [Nurse #2 ]* “Okay, I should be good now. Go ahead.”

Nurse #2 : “Dude, I’ve been done for like a minute now. You did fine.”

To Call It A Scar Is A Bit Of A Stretch

Hospital, Massachusetts, USA | Healthy | December 27, 2017


(I have dislocated my shoulder.)

Doctor: *looking at a mark on my shoulder* “I see you’ve previously had your shoulder operated on.”

Me: “No.”

Doctor: “Yes, there’s the surgical scar right there.”

Me: “No, it’s a stretch mark.”

Doctor: “No, it’s a surgical scar.”

Me: “Unless somebody kidnapped me, drugged me, then operated on me while I was unconscious, I think I would remember surgery.”

Doctor: “…”

(A few years later, I was being examined by a dermatologist, and I told him the story. He said that it did indeed look like a surgical scar, and would I care to come by the hospital during rounds so he could fool his interns?)

If I Leave It’s Your Floss

Dentist, Maryland, USA | Healthy | December 26, 2017


(I am at the same dentist I’ve been going to for the past five years without issue. I brush my teeth twice a day and frequently use dental floss wands. While I do take really good care of my dental hygiene, my teeth aren’t bright white, as whitening toothpaste hurts my sensitive teeth. However, I’ve gotten nothing but glowing reviews from my dental hygienists and dentists the past few years. I haven’t even had a cavity since I was in elementary school. As the dental hygienist is looking at my teeth, she asks me various questions about my dental hygiene.)

Hygienist: “How often do you brush your teeth?”

Me: “Twice daily.”

Hygienist: “Oh, good! Do you floss?”

Me: “I don’t use dental floss, but I use floss wands.”

Hygienist: “Oh, that counts! Good on you for using those.”

(The dentist stops by to do his inspection of my mouth. I have never seen this dentist before, but I’m not worried, since I’ve had nothing but good experiences with this dental practice. It is an uneventful few minutes, until he jabs me unnecessarily hard in one of my back molars with his sharp tool. Keep in mind, I’ve been going to the dentist twice a year for 25 years, so I’m used to the mild pains of getting my teeth inspected and cleaned. This pain is far out of the ordinary and almost feels deliberately hard. I have never had a dental professional cause that kind of pain in my mouth, even from cavities.)

Me: “Ow!”

(I begin to taste blood, which has me really concerned.)

Me: “I taste blood.”

(I say this with his tools still in my mouth, as he has not stopped his inspection at all.)

Dentist: “Well, that wouldn’t have happened if you actually flossed. See, this is why flossing is so important.”

Me: “I do floss.”

(Again, I mumble, as his tools are still in my mouth and I don’t want to be hurt again. He then finishes his inspection, stands up, and quickly speaks to the dental hygienist. While this is happening, I sit up to check on my tooth. I reach into my mouth and pull out a finger with blood on it.)

Dentist: “Schedule a follow-up appointment in one month, due to her poor flossing habits. It would seem she’s caused herself extremely sensitive teeth and gums. She’ll have permanent dental damage if she doesn’t start taking better care of her teeth.”

(The dentist then walks away, leaving me completely speechless.)

Hygienist: “I’m so sorry about that, honey. Let me get you some cotton balls for that blood. I’ll clean that up and try to finish your teeth cleaning.”

Me: *as I’m fighting back tears* “I swear, I do floss! I even have a pack of floss wands in my purse right over there!”

Hygienist: “I’m so sorry, sweetie. You’re fine; I promise. I didn’t see any inflammation or signs of apparent sensitivity. You also didn’t react to my inspection at all, so I don’t think you have overly sensitive teeth from poor dental care. Again, I’m so sorry. He’s the head dentist’s son, and he’s right out of dental school. He’s only temporarily hired until he finds a job at another dental practice. From what we’ve seen so far, he likes to give an excuse why a patient needs an immediate follow-up appointment so he can try to make more money through more appointments. His father has promised that he won’t be here much longer. I’m so sorry you were here on a day that he was scheduled to fill in for his father.”

(The nurse gave me an over-packed goodie bag with stickers, a new toothbrush, three new toothpastes, a small toy, and a new set of floss wands. She also continued to apologize many more times. She told me I wouldn’t need to come in again until my next dental check-up in six months, when she assured me the dentist’s son wouldn’t be employed there anymore. I’ve never had an issue with this dental practice, but if he’s still there when I come back in six months, I’ll be finding a new dentist.)

When Your Doctor Is Gravely Concerned

British Columbia, Canada, Medical Office | Healthy | December 26, 2017


(My GP has referred me to a dermatologist in the nearest large city because of a rash on my hands. A couple of months later, I’m in his office for a regular check-up.)

Doctor: “Did that dermatologist ever get in touch with you?”

Me: “Not a word.”

Doctor: “Maybe you had better call her. Here, I’ll look up her phone number.” *fiddles with his computer for a bit* “Oh, dear, I just found her obituary.”

Me: “I guess that explains why she never contacted me.”

Doctor: “But doesn’t it make you feel good to know you’re doing better than your doctor?”

Obviously Not Stressing It Enough

Oregon, Pharmacy, USA | Healthy | December 26, 2017


(My doctor has prescribed me a four-month supply of a new medicine, to see if it will help with my migraines. I get it filled for the first two months at my local pharmacy without a problem, but the third month I am told I have to call my insurance to sort out a problem. After fighting my way through the automated system and identifying myself:)

Me: “My pharmacy told me that I need to call you about one of my meds.”

Operator: “Yes, it looks like that has been flagged as a ‘maintenance medication’ in our system, so it can only be filled at a regular pharmacy twice. After that it needs to be filled as a three-month supply via mail order.”

(This is news to me, but then again, it is a new insurance plan, so I am not that familiar with it.)

Me: “Okay, but I only have two more months on this medication; my doctor just gave me a four-month script to see if it works for me.”

Operator: “Yes, you just need to get set up on our online system to get it in a three-month supply.”

Me: “That’s the problem: I don’t have three months left on it. Can I get a two-month supply?”

Operator: No, it has to be a three-month supply because it is a ‘maintenance medication.'”

Me: “But I only have two more months on this prescription; it’s a trial to see if it works.”

Operator: “That’s fine; just get set up on our online system and you can get a three-month supply from now on.”

Me: “No, I can’t. I probably won’t be on this that long, and my prescription is only for two more months. Are you saying I need to go to my doctor and get a new three-month prescription in order to fill my last two months?”

Operator: “No, you keep the same prescription; just order a three-month supply online. Do you need the website address?”

Me: “No, I think I need a new prescription, because mine is only for another two months.”

Operator: “No, it must be three months.”

Me: “So, I need to get a new prescription from my doctor for three-months’ worth, or stop taking it now?”

Operator: “No, just enter your prescription online and select ‘three-month supply.'”

Me: “But I don’t have three months left on this medication.”

Operator: *sighs loudly* “I can give you a one-time exception to pick up this month from your pharmacy, but after that you really need to start getting it in a three-month supply via mail order.”

(I decided three months would have to be enough of a trial on that medication; it wasn’t working anyway, and that phone call to get more definitely triggered a stress migraine.)

The Tale Is In The Yelling

Alabama, Pharmacy, USA | Healthy | December 25, 2017


(I’m at a local pharmacy. Twenty minutes ago I dropped off a prescription and now I am picking it up.)

Pharmacist: “Yes, sir?”

Me: “Prescription for [My Name]?”

Pharmacist: “It’s not ready yet, but it should be in just a few minutes.”

Me: “Sure, that’s fine.”

(I go and sit down in the waiting area. The pharmacist walks over to another employee and whispers something to her, which I happen to overhear:)

Pharmacist: “Can you believe it? He actually didn’t yell at me!”

About To Be (Dis)Appointed

Hospital, Maine, USA | Healthy | December 25, 2017


(I do appointment scheduling for the hospital. The following takes place on a daily basis with different patients.)

Patient: “I need to reschedule my appointment for next week.”

(I take their name and date of birth, and I look up the appointment.)

Me: “Okay, so, the only appointment I have in June is for the 18th at 7:30 am; then I am going into the middle of July.”

Patient: “Oh, no! I can’t wait that long; do you have anything Tuesday?”

Me: “No, I’m sorry. The only opening I have is June 18th.”

Patient: “How about Wednesday?”

Me: “No. Like I said, the only opening I have in June is the 18th; then I am going into July.”

(This goes on a few more times.)

Patient: “Okay, I will just take June 18th. You don’t have anything a little later in the day, though, do you

A Sinus Of The Times

Hospital, Lafayette, Louisiana, USA | Healthy | December 25, 2017


(I suffer from chronic sinus infections, having experienced ear infections with regularity since I was a toddler. However, the word “suffer” is actually quite a stretch. I’m chatting about it with the doctor checking me out; who initially doesn’t seem convinced anything is wrong.)

Me: “They never really bothered me, though. I was in for a check-up when I was two, and the doctor kept asking my mom if I’d been fussy, crying, sleeping badly, rubbing at my ears or anything. She said I’d been fine and asked why I’d be doing anything like that, and the doctor said I had the worst ear infection he’d EVER seen!”

Doctor: *giving me an are-you-serious look* “You have the worst sinus infection I’ve ever seen.”

Me: *cheerfully* “Told ya!”

Choking On All That ‘Drama’

Canada, Dentist, Ontario, Thunder Bay | Healthy | December 24, 2017


(I’ve never liked going to the dentist, but this incident really made me hate it more than usual. It’s just a normal annual teeth cleaning, uncomfortable but bearable, but when the hygienist was using the polish, a chunk of it broke off and went down my throat. I started choking and the hygienist had to stop the cleaning for a moment to let me clear my airway.)

Hygienist: “Quit being such a drama queen.”

(I was furious, and made sure to tell my mom about it when I was done. I don’t know if she told the dentist about what happened, but I never saw that hygienist again.)

Overstayed Your Medicaid

Hospital, Issaquah, USA, Washington | Healthy | December 23, 2017


(After our son is born:)

Nurse: *to my wife* “And I’m just confirming that the baby is covered by your insurance for at least 21 days?”

Wife: “Yes, that’s correct.”

(Later:)

Doctor #1 : “Hi, Mom & Dad! Congratulations! I’m [Doctor] and just here to look over the little guy. Oh, he’s a cutie!” *examines the baby for five minutes* “Well, everything looks good. Congratulations again!”

(Even later:)

Doctor #2 : “Hello! I’m [Doctor #2 ]. I’m here to examine [something else] with your son. Congratulations, by the way! Oh, he’s a handsome guy!” *examines baby for five minutes* “Well, everything looks good. He seems to be doing great!”

(Later still:)

Doctor #3 : “He’s doing great, but his levels aren’t quite where we would really like them to be. I’m going to keep you guys here for another night to monitor him.”

(Months later we start seeing bills from pediatricians whose names we didn’t recognize at all for “neonatal exam” and other odd things. Two years later our daughter is born in the same hospital.)

Nurse: *to my wife* “And I’m just confirming that the baby is covered by your insurance for at least 21 days?”

Wife: “No, I’m on a self-funded plan so that isn’t the case. We’ll be putting her on the state-based Medicaid plan with her brother and coverage will be retroactive to her birthday.”

(Later, as in less than 24 hours after the birth:)

Nurse: “Looks like you guys get to go home today! Just so you know, her levels aren’t quite where we would want them to be so you’ll need to set up an appointment with your primary care pediatrician to have her checked within the next day. Congratulations again!”

(The next day at our pediatrician’s office:)

Pediatrician: “Why in the world would they discharge you with her levels like this? This is very concerning to me. She needed another night in the hospital. Did any pediatricians at the hospital look at her?”

Wife: “Just one. Weird, because last time we saw like four or five; they’d just pop in and we’d never see them again.”

Pediatrician: “These numbers are not good. We need to get her to the ER today.”

(Off to the ER (at a different hospital) and our new-born daughter had to stay the night for some urgent treatment. She’s fine now but the lesson is learned that we mention Medicaid to the hospital with extreme caution.)

Unhealthy Expectations

Crazy Requests, Louisiana, Office, USA | Healthy | December 22, 2017


(I work in home health and we get calls like this a lot surprisingly:)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Agency]. This is [My Name]; how may I help you?”

Caller: “Hi, I’m a nurse, and my [family member] needs care, but they only want me to take care of them. Is there any way we could go through you and have only me take care of them?”

Me: “Yes, if you fill out an application and we hire you. But you would have to see more patients in a week than just your [family member].”

Caller: “Oh, no, I just want to take care of [family member] and no one else. I have a job already. I would just need to be paid for my [family member]. How would they be able to request me after being admitted to your agency?”

Me: “The only way is to be hired here to see patients.”

Caller: “But I have a job already; I don’t need to be hired. And I can’t see other patients, only my [family member].”

Me: “So you want to use our facility, our resources and supplies, see no one else, AND you want us to pay you?”

Caller: “Yes, exactly.”

Me: “Sorry, we don’t do that here. Try [Other Home Health Agency].”

(No other home health agency does that either.)

This Service Is Lumpy At Best

Arkansas, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | December 22, 2017


(Over the last two years I’ve had two breast lumps, which were both biopsied, and have been suffering pain, from what I suspect is a third, over the last 5 months. The pain used to only bother me when I tried to wear a bra with an underwire, but over the last 2 months it has gotten to the point where it just hurts all the time. My primary care physician does indeed find a lump in the area and has ordered a diagnostic ultrasound of the area, which thankfully I get scheduled within the week.)

Sonographer: *going though the normal medical questions* “Do you smoke?”

Me: “No.”

Sonographer: “Have you ever been pregnant?”

Me: “No.”

Sonographer: “Have you had previous breast surgeries or biopsies?”

Me: “Yes, both on the left. One was in May of 2015 and was excisional, and one just eight months ago and was a fine needle aspiration.”

Sonographer: “Have you ever been pregnant?”

Me: *doubting her listening skills* “…I believe you just asked me that. No, I have never been pregnant.”

Sonographer: “Is there a lump?”

Me: “Yes. [Doctor] found it based on the location of my pain over the last several months.”

Sonographer: “And when was your appointment with her?”

Me: “Last week on the 25th.”

(The sonographer quietly finishes her paperwork and does the ultrasound. After completing the imaging she steps out of the room to speak to the radiologist, which takes approximately 20 minutes. I spend the entire time hoping that this time is merely a cyst and I can have it drained to relieve my pain and be done with it. Finally the sonographer comes back into the room, sans radiologist.)

Sonographer: “So, it’s indicated to be benign. We’re going to schedule a follow up for you in six months.”

Me: *I’m slightly taken aback by both the abruptness and that they apparently expect me to suffer increasing pain for another six months* “Wait, what? Even though I’m in pain and haven’t been able to wear a real bra in several months?”

Sonographer: “We’ll give you a pamphlet on pain management. Do you want to set your appointment up now?”

(By this point I’m both ticked off and nearing tears, as I feel I’m just being dismissed because I’m young, and am not being given any information.)

Me: “Can you at least tell me anything about the spot? What are the dimensions? Is it a cyst like [Doctor] said it might be? Or is it solid? What do the edges look like?”

Sonographer: *looks like I’ve just deeply offended her by asking questions about my own health* “It’s like what you had last time. But it’s teeny tiny. You just have very dense tissue around it so it feels bigger. So do you want to set up your appointment now?”

(After several rounds of asking her the same questions and her not providing the answers in exact terms but pushing for the follow-up appointment, she finally told me that the lump was about 8mm, which wasn’t as large as one of the previous ones, but was not “teeny tiny,” and at least had edges that are the indicator for it being benign. She pushed the pain management pamphlet on me, got my follow-up set up, and practically shoved me out the door. I relayed all my concerns about how little was addressed to my primary doctor, and she at least reviewed my results and gave a referral to a surgeon for me to move forward. The most annoying part? The sonographer apparently put down that I’d only been presenting the issue for a week, which was when I received confirmation of a lump, not that it’d been going on for several months as I’d told her. Listening is an active skill, everyone!)

Your Reaction Has You In Stitches

Connecticut, Health & Body, Office, USA | Healthy | December 22, 2017


(Due to living through some really messed up stuff, I have an incredibly high pain tolerance, and avoid asking for help if it’s something I can do myself. Combine that with the fact that I am a massive klutz, and you get someone that consistently injures themselves (frequently at work), fixes it as best they can, and just shrugs it off as nothing. I have once again managed to hurt myself, resulting in about a two-inch long gash on my forearm. It’s not too deep, but it needs stitches. I can and have stitched myself up from similar injuries in the past, using sewing needles and fishing line. I am in the middle of doing this, when a coworker I will refer to as “Work Mom” walks into my office.)

Work Mom: “Hey, [My Name], my computer is having iss— WHAT THE H*** ARE YOU DOING?!”

(I do not stop stitching as I speak with her.)

Me: “Oh, I just got a little cut, and am sewing myself back up. I’ll be right as rain in a minute. So what’s going on with your computer?”

Work Mom: “No. No, no, no. How are you not screaming? You are coming with me to the walk-in right now!”

Me: *stops stitching* “I really don’t think that’s necessary. I’ve done this before, and I’ll be fine.”

Work Mom: “I’m calling medical, then you are going to the doctor. You do not have a choice in this, you crazy b****!”

(I give up, as arguing at this point is futile. I walk down the hall to medical, and sit in a chair after speaking to the onsite medical person. As Work Mom’s back is turned, I finish stitching up the cut, and cut the needle free. Work Mom gets permission to take me knowing I won’t go by myself, and we go to the walk-in clinic. We wait for a bit, and get called into a room. The doctor walks in about 10 minutes later.)

Doctor: “So, what’re you here for today?”

Me: “I think it’s a bit of an overrea—”

Work Mom: “This crazy person got a cut, and decided that it would be easiest to stitch it up herself!”

Doctor: “…what? You’re kidding me.”

Me: “No. I’ve done this before, and had no trouble.” *I hold out my arm for the doctor to inspect*

Doctor: “Jesus, woman! Didn’t that hurt?”

Me: “Eh.”

Doctor: “I’ll have to remove this… What did you use?”

Me: “Fishing line.”

Doctor: *mutters something under his breath* “I’ll get the proper tools for this.”

Me: *knowing I will never get another chance to ask this* “So, how’s my stitching?”

Doctor: “What? Did you just really ask me that?”

Me: “Yeah, come on. I’m curious.” *I have a massive s***-eating grin on my face at this point*

Doctor: *mumbles something*

Me: “Sorry, I didn’t catch that?”

Doctor: *exasperated* “You’re stitching is fine, but seriously, don’t do this again!”

In Closed Quarters

Health & Body, Office, Ohio, USA | Healthy | December 21, 2017


(The entire staff is having an end of the fall quarter meeting in a large conference room. Since it’s flu season, there’s frequently the sound of coughing and sniffling because management made this meeting mandatory and refuses to let anyone call off sick. I’m sitting to the side, and the director has just called the meeting to start when one employee from the very back walks forward, crossing the entire very large room. Everyone falls silent to watch her. She props open one of the doors halfway (which just leads to a hallway) and then walks all the way back to her seat, pass dozens of coworkers, some of which are clearly feverish.)

Employee: “I just HAD to open a door! I couldn’t stand the thought of being stuck inside a closed room with all these sick people! I don’t want to get sick myself!”

(She was sitting next to another coworker who was surrounded by a pile of used tissues. As if opening a door part-way in a giant conference room halts the transmission of viruses and bacteria.)

A Prescription By Any Other Name

Pharmacy, USA | Healthy | December 21, 2017


(I go to my local pharmacy to drop off a prescription. As most pharmacies are, it is very busy with a full waiting area and they tell me there will be a wait for my medication. I browse the store for a while until I hear my name called over the intercom, and then get back in line to pick up the prescription. An elderly man who is also waiting for a prescription gets up from his chair and approaches me.)

Patient: “Are you Veronica? They just called a Veronica; are you her?”

(They definitely did not just call anyone named Veronica, and my name sounds nothing like Veronica, although they both do end in the letter ‘A.’)

Me: “Uh, no, sir, I’m not Veronica but my prescription is ready.”

Patient: “Well, if you’re not Veronica then your prescription is not ready so get out of line and wait like the rest of us!”

Me: “Sir, they called my name and I am going to pick up my prescription. Even if they didn’t I’m not cutting anyone in line or making anyone else wait longer, so please don’t shout at me.”

(At this point he started telling the whole waiting room that I was not Veronica and I was trying to steal Veronica’s prescription, but he was actually speaking very calmly so no one really paid him any mind. They called me up to the desk and I got my medication, and let them know the man seemed slightly agitated and might need some help. As I was leaving I heard him arguing with the pharmacy technician, saying “But she’s NOT VERONICA!”)

Not Getting A Good Drug Deal

Medical Office, Scotland, UK | Healthy | December 21, 2017


(I am working as a receptionist in a GP surgery. As part of my job, I have to take orders for and print out repeat prescriptions, as well as note down any special requests to pass on to the doctors. Patients are aware of this and will often try to bypass the 48-hour wait time between ordering and collection by asking me to “just print it,” apparently unaware that I need a doctor to sign it first. On this day, a late-30ish man approaches my desk:)

Patient: “Hi, I need a prescription for [opiate].”

Me: “You usually need a doctor’s appointment for that; do you want me to book you in in two day’s time?”

Patient: “No, I’ve run out. It should be on as a repeat prescription.”

(I’m suspicious, because this drug rarely if ever is put on repeat. Nevertheless, I check his file. Not only is it not down on his repeats, but there is a pop-up note saying DO NOT SUPPLY THIS PATIENT WITH [OPIATE] DUE TO HISTORY OF ABUSE.)

Me: *trying to be tactful* “Well, sir, it looks like the doctor has taken you off of this medication. If you like, I can give you a phone appointment this afternoon?

Patient: *suddenly aggressive* “DO YOU WANT ME TO SUFFER? IS THAT IT?”

Me: “No, sir. I simply can’t give you the prescription without a doctor’s approval.”

Patient: “PRINT IT OUT!”

Me: *refusing to show that I’m feeling intimidated* “I can’t. And even if I could, I’d need a doctor to sign it for me, and they’re all in with patients.”

Patient: “Well, you’d better f****** interrupt one, shouldn’t you, you stupid little b****?”

Me: “No doctor is going to sign this prescription right now. I’m asking you once to stop using abusive language and allow me to try to help, or I will have to ask you to leave.”

Patient: “Well then, you f****** sign it!”

Me: “I’m not a doctor.”

Patient: “Just sign it!”

Me: “You’re asking me to break the law and put my signature to your prescription.”

Patient: “Yes.”

Me: “You want me to put my name to a prescription which, if caught, will land me in jail, cause legal trouble to the doctors here, and probably not even get you the medicine you want?”

Patient: “I NEED MY [OPIATE]!”

Me: “I’m not going to do that. Either take one of the appointments I’ve offered you, or leave.”

Patient: “WELL, MAYBE I’LL F****** MAKE YOU DO IT!”

(Thankful for the plastic barrier between us, I pressed the security button, and he was escorted from the building by two of my other coworkers, cursing the whole time.)

Whether You’re A Brother Or Whether You’re A Mother You Should Learn CPR

Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, USA, Vancouver | Healthy | December 20, 2017


I am sitting in the waiting room of my doctor’s office waiting to be called back. They have a TV playing some health network with short tips and tricks to being healthy.

One of the tips was to perform CPR to the beat of the song ‘Staying Alive’ by the Bee Gees. I laugh out loud in the quiet waiting room imagining passing out only to be revived by someone singing that song.

I got quite a few weird looks before I was able to get my giggles under control. But I guess I won’t forget the beat if I ever have to perform CPR now because I will want them to be ‘Staying Alive’

My Case Against You Is Swelling

Hospital, USA, Washington DC | Healthy | December 20, 2017


(I have been suffering from a cough and breathing problems for a few days. Thinking it is just a passing cold, I don’t worry too much about it until one night I notice that my neck is noticeably swollen. Concerned, I go to my mother, who is a nurse, and ask her opinion. She decides to take me to the ER due to the swelling and my issues with breathing. After arriving, I am taken to a room to wait for the doctor to evaluate me.)

Nurse: “I hear you’re having some trouble breathing.”

Me: “Yes, I’ve been coughing, and I thought it was just a cold, but now my neck is swollen.”

Nurse: “Well, let’s just listen to your chest for a minute.”

(She listens to me breathe for a few moments, makes a note on her chart, and leaves. Several minutes later, the attending physician enters the room.)

Doctor: “So you’re having issues with breathing?”

Me: “Yes. I told the nurse I thought I had a cough, but now my neck is swollen and my mom was concerned it could be something else.”

Doctor: “Well, let’s just listen to your chest.”

(He also checks my lungs, the same as the nurse.)

Doctor: “Well, you seem to have some labored breathing, so we’re going to give you a breathing treatment to help with that.”

Me: “What about the swelling?”

Doctor: “I don’t really see any swelling.”

(My mother and I both stare at the doctor in disbelief. Full disclosure, I am overweight, and because of that, I do have somewhat of a ‘double-chin’. However, this is far beyond double-chin territory; it was noticeable enough for both me and my nurse mother to be concerned.)

Mom: “Her neck is obviously swollen. This isn’t normal. I know what normal is for her, and this isn’t it.”

Doctor: *dismissing her* “I’ll be back with the breathing treatment.”

(My mother and I are completely irritated by his behavior. My mom, in a stroke of genius, pulls out her phone. Not a week before, we had been on vacation, and had taken many pictures; my mom pulls up a picture of me, facing forward, that shows how I usually look. When the doctor returns, she shows him this picture as evidence that my neck does not normally look as it does now.)

Doctor: *taken aback* “Oh, your neck IS swollen! Let’s get you in for an MRI!”

(Thankfully, I just had bronchitis. However, neither my mother nor I were pleased that one of my symptoms was ignored, simply because the doctor assumed that it was irrelevant!)

I Know First Aid And Last Rites

England, London, Office, UK | Healthy | December 20, 2017


(I’m a shift supervisor on break with someone, tending to a swollen ankle.)

Colleague: “You’re a doctor, though, aren’t you [My Name]?”

Me: “I wouldn’t be here if I was; I’m a first aider.”

Colleague: “Which means you know medical stuff right?”

Me: *deadpan* “It means I know enough that a patient has a higher chance of staying alive until paramedics arrive.”

Colleague: “Whoa, that’s rather…”

Me: “Cynical?”

Colleague: “…yeah.”

There’s Nothing They Can’t Do

Hospital, Texas, USA | Healthy | December 19, 2017


(For whatever reason, several of my friends have been taking turns in the hospital recently. My husband and I are bringing food to the third one in the past month, at a different hospital than the others, who is admitted with an extremely damaged hand after an accident. His wife meets us at the door and walks back with us to the room, but becomes lost in the process. The hallways have letter flags on them, but she is unable to locate the one we need. Fortunately, nearby staff take turns stepping in to help.)

Friend’s Wife: “Oh, no. I don’t know where ‘J’ hall is…”

Nurse #1 : *on another hall and out of view* “Take a right at ‘H’!”

Friend’s Wife: “Thanks!”

(We get to the end of ‘H’ and become lost again.)

Friend’s Wife: “I don’t see ‘J’ hall. Did we go the right way?”

Nurse #2 : *passing behind us* “Through the double doors.”

Husband: “They’re good.”

(We walk through the doors and pass a few doctors.)

Friend’s Wife: “Now we just need room J123.”

Doctor: “Just there on your left.”

Me: “Why can’t every hospital be this easy to navigate? It’s like we have a GPS with us.”

You Keep Using That Word. I Do Not Think It Means What You Think It Means

Medical Office, Michigan, USA | Healthy | December 19, 2017


(I am waiting for an appointment in a medical office. The office shares a waiting room with a medical laboratory. Those there for the lab take a number, while those seeing a specialist have appointments. Several other patients, including the rude patient, are waiting to be seen.)

Medical Person #1 : “Number 32?”

Patient #1 : “That’s me”

Rude Patient: “I was here first! I am number 34. You need to see me now!”

Medical Person #1 : “Ma’am, he has a lower number than you do. I’ve told you twice already, I can’t skip you forward in the line. We see people in the order they show up, and this man was here before you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have a lower number than you do.”

Rude Patient: “I have another appointment before [time half an hour from now]. You need to see me right now.”

Medical Person #1 : “Ma’am, we see people in the order of their numbers. You will be seen when it is your turn,and not before then. If you need to leave before that, you can go, and come back when you have more time. I can’t guarantee how soon you’d be seen.”

([Medical Person #1 ] goes through the door with [Patient #1 ].)

Rude Patient: “She is very rude!”

(Rude patient pulls open the sliding window where the receptionist for the medical office sits, and launches into her complaint.)

Rude Patient: “That woman is very rude! It is my turn, and she’s seeing other people. You need to make sure that I am next!”

Receptionist: “Ma’am, I’ve already explained this to you. I have nothing to do with the lab. I am the receptionist for [Doctor #1 ] and [Doctor #2 ]. The lab is a separate thing, and I have no control over that. But people at the lab are always seen in order of their numbers.”

Rude Patient: “You! What is your number?”

Me: “I have an appointment to see [Doctor #1 ]. I don’t have a number.”

Rude Patient: “You! What is your number?”

Patient #2 : “I am number 36.” *points to the man next to her* “He is number 37.”

(While rude patient keeps muttering about how rude [Medical Person #1 ] is, [Medical Person #2 ] comes out wearing scrubs but limping out the door in a cast. She is immediately accosted by the rude patient.)

Rude Patient: “The other girl is very rude! I had an appointment downstairs, and they sent me to get lab work done, but that woman is seeing everyone else first and not letting me go. I have another appointment!”

([Medical Person #2 ] spends several minutes confirming that everyone else had lower numbers than the rude patient, and explaining that people are always seen in order in the lab. While this happens, another patient comes out.)

Rude Patient: “You! What was your number?”

Patient #3 : “Um, 30, I think? I threw it out as soon as they called me.”

Medical Person #2 : “It sounds like you’re probably next, ma’am. You can either wait here for her to be ready for you, or you can go to any of our locations later today if you have somewhere else you need to be.”

Rude Patient: “But she is so rude!”

Me: “Ma’am, she wasn’t rude. She was frustrated. From what everyone has said, everyone who has been seen before you has had a lower number than you. That means they were here before you. And she said that she had already explained that she couldn’t jump you ahead of other people in the line, which means you were probably demanding that before I showed up. You just don’t like being told that. Frankly, you need to either sit down and wait your turn, or go to your other appointment and then either come back here or go to one of the other lab locations when you have the time and won’t yell at people for doing their job. But the fact that you didn’t get your way doesn’t make someone else rude.”

Rude Patient: “That’s very rude of you. You need to respect your elders!”

(I shake my head and go back to my book.)

Medical Person #1 : “Number 33?… If there’s no number 33, number 34?”

Rude Woman: “Finally!”

(I really don’t think the rude patient understood the meaning of the word rude.)

Chewed Through Half Of Your High School Fun

Dentist, Florida, USA | Healthy | December 19, 2017


(I have to get all four wisdom teeth removed just before starting my senior year of high school, and one of them gives me trouble. When we cut the small stitches out, we find the space where that tooth had been still has a little bit open, but don’t think it warrants another stitch. My dentist is explaining safety rules for food and drinks, considering the small hole in my gums.)

Dentist: “Don’t chew on that side if you can avoid it; don’t have anything with alcohol—”

Me: “Well, there goes my entire high school career.”

Dentist: *chuckling* “Smart-a**.”

Chewed Through Half Of Your High School Fun

Dentist, Florida, USA | Healthy | December 19, 2017


(I have to get all four wisdom teeth removed just before starting my senior year of high school, and one of them gives me trouble. When we cut the small stitches out, we find the space where that tooth had been still has a little bit open, but don’t think it warrants another stitch. My dentist is explaining safety rules for food and drinks, considering the small hole in my gums.)

Dentist: “Don’t chew on that side if you can avoid it; don’t have anything with alcohol—”

Me: “Well, there goes my entire high school career.”

Dentist: *chuckling* “Smart-a**.”

Jesus, It’s Just Gallstones!

Florida, Hospital, USA | Healthy | December 18, 2017


(I’m in the ER with severe stomach pain and bloating. I’ve just been put in a room, and the ER doctor is asking questions. I’m in my early 20s.)

Doctor: “Is there any chance you could be pregnant?”

Me: “Nope, no chance. I’m not even dating anyone right now.”

Doctor: “Are you absolutely SURE?”

(She’s pushing on my stomach, which makes the pain worse. At this point, I no longer have a filter on my mouth.)

Me: “Lady, if I’m pregnant, you’d better start looking outside for shepherds, angels, three wise men, and a star.”

Doctor: “…noted. I’ll get you into imaging.”

(I had gallstones and pancreatitis.)

A Large Dose Of Laziness

Arizona, Medical Office, Phoenix, USA | Healthy | December 18, 2017


(I am diagnosed with a rare neurological condition and go to the Mayo Clinic. My medication doses have to be adjusted continuously for several months and I am now on a combination of both the regular and extended release for the best effect. Since Mayo does not accept my insurance and I had to pay for their evaluation out of pocket, I am now transferring to an in-network neurologist for follow-up care.)

Me: “So I’m on [Medication] and I take 1000 mg extended and 500 regular in the morning, and then 1000 mg extended and 250 mg regular in the evening.”

Doctor: “Oh, that’s too complicated. I’m just going to write your prescription for 1000 mg twice a day.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Doctor: “I don’t know why you ended up on such a complicated dose.”

Me: “Because the neurologist at Mayo Clinic carefully adjusted my dose over several months, and we determined that this was what worked best to control my symptoms. You have all the records from Mayo.”

Doctor: “Yes, but it’ll be so much easier for you to just take 1000 mg twice a day.”

(I didn’t go back.)

Suffering From Temporal Displacement

Arizona, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | December 17, 2017


(I’m headed to a doctor’s appointment that I scheduled two weeks prior. The appointment time is 3:30 and that was confirmed twice while talking to the receptionist, and I was left a voicemail the day before my appointment again confirming my 3:30 check in. I always like to arrive early because I work in the medical field myself and I know how important it is to be in time. I show up at a very prompt 3:10.)

Me: “Hi, I’m early but I’m here to check in for my 3:30 appointment.”

Receptionist: *very blankly* “Name.”

Me: *says name*

Receptionist: *SIGH* “Let me ask the doctor is she can see you because you’re really late.”

(The receptionist walks away before I can say anything. She comes back and rolls her eyes.)

Receptionist: “I guess she’ll see you, but you’re late.”

Me: “I’m twenty minutes early. My appointment is 3:30.”

Receptionist: “No, you’re twenty minutes late. Fill this out so she can take you back.”

(It’s not worth the fight, so I sit down and finish the paperwork. Soon after, the door swings open and the doctor calls my name.)

Doctor: “Hurry back. I need to rush because you’re very late and now my schedule is behind.”

Me: “My appointment was 3:30. I’m early.”

Doctor: “That’s not what my schedule says. You’re holding up my day.”

Me: “I have a voicemail even confirming my time!”

Doctor: *rolls eyes* “Sure you do. Hurry up.”

(I’m so annoyed with being called a liar I play the voicemail on speaker.)

Doctor: “Oh. They did say to check in at 3:30. But you’re still late; now hurry up.”

(I was so annoyed but the wait on this appointment was forever and I just quickly did the appointment. She was terrible and I never went back after that.)

Would Have Been Ice To Know

Hospital, Idaho, USA | Healthy | December 16, 2017


(I’ve just had major surgery on my leg and have been taken to my room. I begin to feel chilled, so I press the call button. The nurse who responds covered me with an additional blanket, but after a short time I am so cold I was shivering, so another blanket is added. Within about an hour two more blankets are added but I am colder than ever. Then the charge nurse comes in on her rounds.)

Me: *violently shivering* “C-c-cold!”

Nurse: *having just taken my vitals* “You’re practically hypothermic. Let me check your leg and then I’ll see what else we can do to warm you up.” *checks my leg* “Oh. How long has your leg been packed in ice?!”

Me: “Ice?”

(Neither of us knew, so it must have been done before I awoke from anesthesia which means it had been there for at quite some time. Each blanket that was added sealed in the cold that much more, so of course I was freezing! The ice was quickly removed and with five or six blankets covering me I warmed up pretty fast.)

They Need To Carb-Load Their Medical Degree

Food & Drink, Medical Office, Pennsylvania, USA, Williamsport | Healthy | December 15, 2017


(I’ve been a diabetic for over 42 years, so I’m a bit “old school” when it comes to caring for my diabetes. Still, I must be doing something right, as my control has been fairly tight up until recently. Because of new issues, I go to see an endocrinologist and am discussing my diet with her. And as dismayed as I am to say it, I’m about 60 lbs overweight.)

Doctor: “How many carbs do you eat per meal?”

Me: “Oh, three, sometimes four. If I’m feeling particularly crazy, I’ll have up to five, but that’s my limit.”

Doctor: *looking at me in horror* “How many?!”

Me: “Three or four.”

Doctor: “Grams?”

Me: *holding my arms wide* “Do I look like a mouse? I’m talking about the diabetic exchange, doc. Fifteen grams is one carb, and I eat three or four carbs per meal, with two carbs being a snack.”

Doctor: “Oh, God! I thought you were eating only three or four grams per meal.”

Me: “Yes… and I have a blood glucose of zero.”