Golly Gee, I’m So Smrt
ELECTRONICS STORE, FUNNY, HOLIDAYS, MONEY, RETAIL | RIGHT | APRIL 9, 2008
Me: *notices customer walking into the store* “How can I help you today?”
Customer: “I see you have two DVDs for $10.”
Me: “Actually, that sale ended yesterday.”
Customer: “Well, I have to buy some for my son for Christmas, so maybe you can be a doll and ring them up for me for that price.”
Me: “I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”
Customer: “Why not?”
Me: “Because that sale ended yesterday.”
Customer: “What difference is it to you the price you sell these DVDs at?!”
Me: “My job…”
Customer: “How about if I give you $5?”
Me: “…sure.”
(I go and ring up the two DVDs, and take the customer’s money. With the additional five dollars, this adds up to the normal retail price so there have been no savings.)
Golly Gee, I’m So Smrt
ELECTRONICS STORE, FUNNY, HOLIDAYS, MONEY, RETAIL | RIGHT | APRIL 9, 2008
Me: *notices customer walking into the store* “How can I help you today?”
Customer: “I see you have two DVDs for $10.”
Me: “Actually, that sale ended yesterday.”
Customer: “Well, I have to buy some for my son for Christmas, so maybe you can be a doll and ring them up for me for that price.”
Me: “I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”
Customer: “Why not?”
Me: “Because that sale ended yesterday.”
Customer: “What difference is it to you the price you sell these DVDs at?!”
Me: “My job…”
Customer: “How about if I give you $5?”
Me: “…sure.”
(I go and ring up the two DVDs, and take the customer’s money. With the additional five dollars, this adds up to the normal retail price so there have been no savings.)
Pressing For Cash When Pressed For Cash
GAS STATION | WORKING | JULY 5, 2014
(My husband and I stop by a gas station to fill up after picking up my daughter from her grandma’s. I’ve had my card number stolen from this location before, so I decided that I was going to go ahead and pre-pay inside while my husband waited by the pump.)
Clerk: “What’s up?”
Me: “I just need $30 on pump three, please.”
Clerk: “Okay, hold on.” *hits buttons on screen* “Cash or card?”
Me: “Card, please.” *I pull out my card, ready to swipe*
Clerk: “Oh, s***. Yeah, I pushed cash. It’s already gone through. Hold on, let me get my manager.”
(He turns to the side and the manager is just on the register next to him.)
Clerk: “Yeah, um, I hit cash, but it was supposed to be card.”
Manager: “All right, I’ll fix it.” *pushes buttons on screen* “Hey! $4.05 has already been pumped!”
Me: “What? Oh! My husband must have already started pumping.”
Manager: “You have to pay cash now.”
Me: “I don’t have cash because I was planning on using my card. It wasn’t—”
Manager: “You pay cash now!”
Me: “I don’t HAVE cash! I need to use my card! Your clerk is the one who let it go through as cash!”
Manager: “What about your husband? Does he have cash? You need to pay in cash, now!”
Me: “No, my husband doesn’t have any cash. That’s why I was going to use my card! You really can’t do anything about this?”
Manager: “Fine, you do cash back!”
Me: “Well, do you have an ATM?”
Manager: “No, you can do cash back at the register.”
(He sets up the register to do a cash back charge of $4.05, but he adds a $0.25 charge to the total. I assume it’s a fee for doing cash-back only. He tells me to swipe my card for the cash back and I do so.)
Manager: “Okay. Now, how much do you want?”
Me: “Well, I guess $25. Pump three.”
Manager: “Okay, go ahead and swipe card.”
(I swipe my card and it goes through just fine, then he hands me my receipt.)
Manager: “Next time have cash!”
(I take a look at my receipt and it shows the $0.25 charge as a ‘grocery item.’)
Me: “Wait, what’s with this 25-cent charge?”
Manager: “That’s the stupid fee, for messing up our register. Now move; I need to get the next customer.”
Me: “Excuse me? I don’t think so! This all started because your employee hit the wrong button! 25 cents may not be much, but I can’t afford to waste even a penny. Give me my 25 cents back!”
Manager: “Fine.” *tosses a quarter at me* “Now get out!”
(I took my change and receipt and left. I hate that gas station. Too bad it’s the only one in the area.)
Quizzical Behavior
HIGH SCHOOL | LEARNING | FEBRUARY 5, 2014
(I have an English teacher who I regularly speak with after school. I am telling him about a problem I am having with my Spanish teacher.)
Me: “[English Teacher], you wouldn’t believe it. [Spanish Teacher] claimed that she caught me cheating! She gave me detention and a zero on the quiz!”
English Teacher: “That doesn’t sound like you at all. You’re in the honor program! Plus, I’ve only ever heard good things about you from other teachers.”
Me: “What do I do about [Spanish Teacher]? She won’t let me retake the quiz. God, she’s such a—” *I stop myself before I say something bad and get in trouble*
English Teacher: “Yeah, I know. She’s such a f****** b****.”
Me: “Oh, my god.”
English Teacher: “But, really. She totally is.”
Me: “I don’t know how to respond to that.”
English Teacher: “I needed to get that off my chest. I’ll talk to her if you promise not to tell anyone I said that.”
Me: “Deal.”
(He ended up talking to my Spanish teacher about it. I was able to retake the quiz after school the next day.)
Stuck In A Vicious Bicycle
DEPARTMENT STORE | RIGHT | MARCH 1, 2016
(We work in a single-story building. Our store is a little smaller than others of the same chain in the area. I am rearranging the lawnmowers when a woman approaches me.)
Woman: “Excuse me; I can’t seem to find the bicycles.”
Me: “I’m sorry, we don’t carry bicycles in this store. We have a bicycle section with some small things, but you have to go to [Other Location] for actual bikes.”
Woman: “No, your BICYCLES. I need a bicycle.”
Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, we don’t carry them.”
Woman: “YES, you DO!”
Me: “Our other stores do. Our store is too small.”
Woman: “I saw them YESTERDAY. Ugh.”
Me: “Really? Where?”
Woman: “I don’t remember.”
Me: “Maybe you were at [Other Location]?”
Woman: “You’re not LISTENING. Just show me the bicycle section.”
(I lead her to the bicycle section where we have a few spare tires, pumps, etc.)
Woman: No, where your BICYCLES ARE.
Me: *frustrated* “OHHH, our BICYCLES! Sorry, I didn’t understand. You are looking for our bicycles, but not at [Other Location]?”
Woman: “YES, FINALLY!”
Me: “The bicycles are upstairs!”
Woman: “WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY SO THE FIRST TIME!?”
(She stormed off. I alerted the rest of our team about the crazy lady and fess up to sending her to our nonexistent upstairs. I got scolded later. Worth it.)
Inex-spews-able Behavior
DEBT COLLECTION | RIGHT | OCTOBER 18, 2012
(A woman comes in and appears clean and normal. She hands my coworker a plastic bag.)
Customer: “Could you be a dear and throw this away? I hate having trash in my car.”
Coworker: “Sure…”
(As my coworker takes the bag, which isn’t sealed, stuff leaks all over her desk. She leans down to examine it, and it is vomit.)
Customer: “That is disgusting! You spilled my vomit all over your desk. I should have your boss fire you for making me feel sick all over again!” *storms off*
Dinner, Movie, Then Break Up
CHATS & DMS | ROMANTIC | SEPTEMBER 9, 2013
(I am 15 and I am going out with my first boyfriend. However, he is not the nicest man: he is controlling, a compulsive liar, and if there is no drama going on he will make something up. Because of this, my parents no longer trust me, we always argue, and I have fallen out with all of my friends. I have recently made friends with a girl in my school, and she invites me to go bowling with her taekwondo club for Christmas, and then later after food go to the cinemas with her and her cousin, and then sleep over at her house. I am so excited, because I finally have a friend to hang out with again, and I tell my boyfriend what our plans are. The next day when I get home, I go online and begin to chat with my boyfriend.)
Boyfriend: “So what did you do last night?”
Me: “We went bowling, and then went to see Saint Trinians. It was a really good night.”
Boyfriend: “Good enough to cheat on me?”
Me: “What?”
Boyfriend: “You cheated on me last night. You and [friend’s name] were on a double date weren’t you?”
Me: “No, it was just me, [friend’s name] and [friend’s female cousin’s name].”
Boyfriend: “Don’t f***** lie to me; my friend saw you two with two other lads holding hands.”
Me: “What friend?”
Boyfriend: “I’ve got a friend who works at [cinema], and he said he saw you two on a double date.”
Me: “Well that’s funny, because we didn’t go to [cinema]. We went to [other cinema], instead.”
Boyfriend: “Why would you go there? [Cinema] is right next door to the bowling alley.”
Me: “Because we went back to hers for dinner first, and then went to [other cinema] as it’s cheaper and nearer.”
Boyfriend: “Oh… well he said he saw you.”
Me: “Couldn’t have been us.”
Boyfriend: “Fine, but if I found out you did cheat and then lied about it, I’ll dump you.”
Me: “I didn’t cheat.”
(Thankfully, no matter what my boyfriend did or said to my friend she never abandoned me like other people did. Eventually, thanks to her, I had the strength to not only dump him, but have him arrested for assault. He was later arrested for stalking too, which he did after we broke up.)
Don’t On-Call The Goose That Lays Your Golden Eggs
COMPUTER REPAIR | WORKING | DECEMBER 4, 2012
(My boyfriend works for a local mom-and-pop computer repair business. Despite being told that his work is consistently excellent, the following takes place when he gets his third paycheck.)
Owner: “Can I talk to you in private?”
My Boyfriend: “Sure.”
Owner: *hands him his paycheck* “We’re going to have to put you on an on-call basis only. Unfortunately, we can’t afford to pay you any more for your hours in the shop.”
My Boyfriend: “…What?”
Owner: “We’re not getting the business we need right now. We had to dip into our savings to even pay your check.”
My Boyfriend: “Right. What about [front desk person]?”
Owner: “What about her?”
My Boyfriend: “I notice you’ve cut my pay and my hours, but you haven’t done anything to her.”
Owner: “But [front desk person] has been with us from the beginning!”
My Boyfriend: “I understand and respect that, but all she does is run the front desk. And as slow as we’ve been, all she’s been doing is playing on Facebook. I’m a technician. I’m doing the work that actually brings money into this place.”
Owner: *silence*
My Boyfriend: “So, let me make sure I’m getting this straight: you’re basically getting rid of me, the one person who has done everything possible to help this business. I set up a ribbon-cutting with the local chamber of commerce in an effort to help get the word out for your business, got in touch with [local TV station] to set up advertising for your business, and successfully negotiated maintenance contracts with several local businesses, including the local police department. I’ve maintained a good rapport with any customer that I have done repair work for, and you’re cutting 100% of MY hours in favor of [front desk person], who has done precisely jack s*** to help this business? And you’re basically firing me without officially firing me?”
Owner: “…Yes.”
My Boyfriend: “I’m going on break.”
(My boyfriend didn’t go back to work after his break. He called me to let me know what happened. I helped him write a scathing resignation letter that night He got another better-paying job a few days later, and is much happier! The last we saw, the owners were facing an eviction.)
Not Open To Interpretation
CALL CENTER | RIGHT | SEPTEMBER 3, 2013
(I work in a call center. We have a dedicated line for Spanish-speaking customers, but for anyone speaking anything else, we would use an interpreter service. I am on a call between the interpreter and the customer.)
Me: “Can you tell him that, since his phone has water damage, his warranty doesn’t cover it?”
(The interpreter translates this, and the customer shouts angrily for a few seconds.)
Coworker: “What did he say?”
Interpreter: “I don’t want to tell you.”
Coworker: “Oh, come on, now I really want to know.”
Interpreter: “Ok, well…”
(The interpreter repeats back a profanity laced diatribe about me, my family, the phone and the company.)
Coworker: “…wow, he said all that in that one little sentence?”
IQ Phone Home
CALL CENTER, CANADA, ONTARIO, TORONTO | RIGHT | FEBRUARY 17, 2011
Me: “Hello, you’ve reached [Phone Support]. What appears to be the problem?”
Caller: “Yes, I’m calling because I have been unable to make phone calls from my home phone.”
Me: “Ma’am, what phone are you calling from right now?”
The Situation Has All Gone Pear-Shaped
RETAIL | RIGHT | JULY 16, 2014
(I’m assisting an older customer trying to find some nice shrugs to cover her arms when she wears strappy dresses. I have found her a few and, for some reason, we have changed topic to women’s shapes.)
Me: “So, there are five general different shapes.”
Customer: “Five?”
Me: “Yup! Straight: where you’re equal measurements across the board, strawberry or top heavy: where your shoulders (or breasts) are the largest part of you, apple: where your waist is the biggest part, pear: where your hips are the widest and the hourglass: where your top is in proportion to your hips.”
Customer: “Oh, I’m a small hourglass as my shoulders are in line with my hips. You must be too!”
Me: “Oh no, I’m pear-shaped. My hips are easily the widest part of me; my top half is a lot narrower.”
Customer: “Oh… you look in proportion though. Oh! Probably because you have big boobs!”
Me: “Er… thanks. Anyway, was there anything else you were looking for?”
Isn’t Therapy Supposed To Be Therapeutic?
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, JERK, MEDICAL OFFICE, SWEDEN | HEALTHY | JUNE 30, 2021
I have been overweight for my entire life. It’s something I’ve come to terms with, and I don’t consider it to be the end of the world as long as it doesn’t prevent me from keeping an active lifestyle. I did a lot of damage to my body and psyche dieting in my youth and I don’t want to revisit those times, instead preferring to be as healthy as I can at the weight I happen to be at for the moment.
I also suffer from hypermobile joints. They make me overly flexible and occasionally give me pretty bad joint and muscle pain from overstraining them. They also put some limits on how physically active I can be, and I have to factor in recovery time every time I do something physically demanding. Again, I don’t consider it the end of the world, and after twenty years, I have a pretty good idea of how my body works and what I need to do to take care of myself.
I recently moved to a new town and have to deal with the hassle of finding a new physical therapist. I’ve put it off for too long, but after an intense period of getting my home in order and lifting heavy things, I can feel that I’ve overdone it and that I might need to change my PT routine a bit. I ask around, get a few recommendations, and make an appointment with a physical therapist who’s supposed to be an expert on my type of troubles. We have public healthcare in Sweden and this PT falls under that.
I’ve had a lot of bad experiences with members of the medical profession in the past, so whenever I meet someone new, I tell them that unless my weight is the direct cause of whatever medical issue I’m having at the time, I’d prefer not to discuss it.
Therapist: “Of course. Why don’t you tell me a little about what you’re dealing with?”
Me: “I recently moved into a new apartment and I’ve been carrying a lot of heavy boxes up and down the stairs, so my knees and shoulders are worse than usual, and my right hip is making this weird clicking sound that it hasn’t been doing before.”
Therapist: “Do you have an exercise program?”
Me: “Yes, I brought it with me. That’s my main reason for coming here. I want to know if there are any easier versions of these exercises that I can do while I wait for the pain to get better? I know I need to rest for a few weeks, but I don’t want to stop working out entirely.”
Therapist: *Looks at my program* “Oh, no, this won’t do at all. I’m going to give you some new exercises. How often do you do this program?”
Me: “I do the full one three times a week, and a shortened version every morning.”
The therapist shakes her head and starts compiling new exercises.
Therapist: “All right. You need to do this full program every day. We’ll go over to the gym and I’ll show them to you later. Now, I’d like to discuss your diet.”
I look at the program and I immediately see that this is not going to work for me. I asked for a lighter version of my normal program, but she’s given me a much tougher one and added several new exercises, including push-ups, which my last PT explicitly forbade me to do, ever, because my wrists can’t take it.
Me: “Sorry, I don’t think this is going to work. This whole program is going to take over an hour. I don’t have that much time every day. It’s also going to put too much strain on my joints, which are already hurting. That’s what I came here for!”
Therapist: “Well, honey, I know you don’t want to hear this, but your BMI is way too high. Unless you lose weight, you’re never going to get rid of the pain. I want you to do this program every day and add in at least thirty minutes of cardio every day, and now we’re going to talk about your diet. How often do you eat fast food?”
Me: *A little stunned* “Um, sometimes, I guess. But I prefer to cook for myself. Sorry, I think I said at the beginning of this appointment that I don’t want to discuss my weight.”
Therapist: “Yes, I understand that it makes you feel uncomfortable, but you need to face facts, honey. You can’t sit on your couch and eat fast food all day. You need to lose at least thirty kg or your pain is just going to get worse. How often do you eat vegetables? You know broccoli is very good for you, right? You need to eat more broccoli.”
Me: “I eat vegetables every day; I’m practically a vegetarian. Look, I know my weight doesn’t help matters, but I’m here because I’m in pain now, because I’ve overstrained myself, and I want to do something to make it better now, not in some kind of hypothetical future where I’ve magically lost thirty kg by eating broccoli. Can you help me with that or not?”
Therapist: “Honey, I can’t help you if you don’t want to help yourself. I’m telling you this for your own good.”
Me: “I am aware that I am overweight. I have been overweight my whole life. I’m not here because I’m overweight. I’m here because I have overstrained my hypermobile joints, and your solution to my problem is to overstrain them even more?”
Therapist: “I know it’s hard to hear, but you need to take better care of yourself. I want to help you do that, but you need to put the work in yourself!”
At this point, I realised that there was no way I would get through to this woman, so I just stood up and left.
I didn’t really feel like making a new appointment with another physical therapist after that, so in the end I just ended up modifying my exercise program myself, and after a few weeks of active rest, I could go back to my normal routine. I’m still overweight, I still have hyper-mobile joints, and eating broccoli (which I do quite often because it’s delicious) hasn’t cured me.
They’ve Got This Pain Management Thing DOWN
BIZARRE, MEDICAL OFFICE, MICHIGAN, PATIENTS, USA | HEALTHY | JUNE 29, 2021
I work in a pain management medical office. We always ask the pain level our patients are experiencing when they come in.
Me: “And what is your pain level today on a scale of zero to ten, zero being no pain and ten being the worst pain you’ve ever experienced?”
Patient: “Oh, a ten.”
Me: “Really? Worse than childbirth, kidney stones, getting hit by a bus?”
Patient: “Yep.”
And then they went back to sitting comfortably in their chair and playing happily on their phone.
Paying Your Bills Should Be A Priority, But… Yikes
BILLING, HOSPITAL, IOWA, NON-DIALOGUE, PATIENTS, USA | HEALTHY | JUNE 28, 2021
I work in the accounts billable department of one of the two major hospitals in Iowa City. It’s my job, essentially, to explain to clients why the amount they have been billed isn’t what they expected.
I’m the low peon on the totem pole, being the newest hire. That means I get to deal with the clients face to face across the billing counter.
One lady is yelling at me about her bill, when suddenly she makes a very strange, strangled sound. I figure she’s having some sort of medical event, so I immediately press the emergency medical event call button.
This turns out to be a very good idea. The lady is wearing a fairly short-skirted pantsuit, so I can see her legs. Specifically, I can see the stitches on her right leg coming undone. First, the top stitch pops, then the next one, and then the next, faster and faster until she’s got an open gash from her garters to her ankles.
Despite this, and despite her collapsing almost immediately like a puppet with her strings cut, the client continues to weakly try to discuss her billing with me, even as the orderlies pick her up and transfer her to a stretcher to carry her right back into surgery.
Still in shock from this whole affair, I stare at the massive puddle of blood in the middle of the floor, and I make the mistake of asking my coworker who’s responsible for cleaning it up.
The Only Thing More Painful Than Getting The Bill Is GETTING The Bill
BILLING, FLORIDA, MEDICAL OFFICE, RECEPTION, TALLAHASSEE, USA | HEALTHY | JUNE 27, 2021
Due to some… up and down employment, I decide to subscribe to a third-party insurance company to cover emergency expenses. They give me a preloaded debit card to pay for my care, and I upload a receipt later. So, it’s become commonplace for me to ask my providers for an itemized receipt after care. This USUALLY isn’t a problem. I go in for an annual blood draw.
Me: “Hey, I need an itemized receipt for my insurance. Is that something you can do?”
Nurse: “Absolutely! Just ask the woman for it when you go to pay.”
I go around the corner to pay.
Me: “Hey, I need an itemized receipt for my insurance. Can you print that out for me?”
Receptionist #1 : “Oh, we don’t do that here. You’ll have to go around the corner and down the hall to billing.”
I head around the corner and down the hall to billing.
Me: “Hey, I need an itemized receipt for my insurance. Can you print that out for me?”
Receptionist #2 : “Did you get care today? Because it won’t be in the system yet. Here, call back in a week and speak to [Receptionist #3 ]. She’ll be able to get you the receipt.”
I wait a week and call. [Receptionist #3 ] is available and I get her on the phone.
Me: “Hey, I need an itemized receipt for my insurance. Can you print that out for me?”
Receptionist #3 : “Oh, of course. Would you like it mailed? I can send it out today.”
Me: “That would be great, thanks!”
So, I wait. And wait. And wait. And the letter never comes. Finally, almost three weeks after my actual blood draw, I call again.
Me: “Hey, I need an itemized receipt for my insurance. Can you print that out for me?”
Receptionist #4 : “Of course, just give me your information.”
Me: “Can I come pick it up, please?”
Receptionist #4 : “Uh, sure? Just give me your name and I’ll mark it down.”
I do so, and drive over; luckily it’s just down the street. FINALLY, I have the receipt. It seemed like such a simple request, but it turned into a video game fetch quest.
Anchors Aweigh… And Aweigh, And Aweigh…
DENTIST, FLORIDA, HEALTH & BODY, HOSPITAL, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, MILITARY, NON-DIALOGUE, PHARMACY, USA | HEALTHY | JUNE 26, 2021
I was a new sailor, getting ready to report to my first ship. My wife and I had driven all the way across the country to the base where my ship was home-ported, so we were totally unfamiliar with the area. We got a hotel room while we looked for apartments, but the next day I got really sick. Two of my teeth on my upper jaw hurt so much I couldn’t sleep, so we grabbed my medical and dental records — this was a long time ago, when sailors hand-carried their records between assignments — and managed to find our way to the local Navy hospital. I checked into the dental office, and they got me in very quickly because I was obviously in a lot of pain.
The dentist, a Navy Lieutenant, poked and prodded a bit, had an x-ray taken, and then told me there was nothing wrong with my teeth. She said I probably had a raging sinus infection and had one of the nurses take me to the emergency room on the ground floor.
An hour or so later, I was diagnosed with a sinus infection, given a paper prescription, and sent to the on-site pharmacy. I grabbed a number and waited, still dazed by the constant pain in my face from the infection. My wife had to tell me when they called my number, and she escorted me to the pharmacy window. The pharmacy tech rattled off a bunch of stuff about the medicines I wasn’t coherent enough to follow, but I did make out that I needed to start taking them right away.
Fine. No problem. We sat back down and I read the labels. The largest bottle said I had to take four pills right away. I staggered to the water fountain in the lobby and swallowed one of everything, plus four of the pills from the big bottle. I walked back to where my wife was sitting, and she started putting the bottles of pills in her purse, giving each bottle a quick look to see if any needed to be refrigerated. Then, she paused and said, “Oh, f***!”
She dragged me up to the prescription drop-off window and hollered for help. An older man came to see what was wrong, and my wife showed him the large bottle and my ID card. The pharmacy tech turned white as a sheet and said, “Oh, f***!”, and then called for a gurney and a doctor.
The next couple of hours were a blur of activity I don’t remember much about, ending with me admitted overnight for observation. It seems the pharmacy tech who’d handed me my pills had also grabbed a bottle intended for another patient — the large bottle. I had taken a quadruple dose of a major blood-pressure medication and my blood pressure was dangerously low by the time the ER managed to get me hooked up to an EKG.
Even in military medicine, almost killing the patients is generally contraindicated. I recovered fine, but there was a major investigation at the hospital, and the pharmacy tech who handed me the wrong pills ended up demoted or transferred someplace unpleasant — perhaps both. The pharmacy at that hospital changed their standard operating procedures to require careful verification of the name on every label and to cross-check every prescription issued with the patient’s medical record.
That’s how the US Navy nearly got me killed before I set foot aboard my first ship.
These People Are Extra Good At Kindness
AWESOME, FRIENDS, HEALTH & BODY, HOSPITAL, INSPIRATIONAL, KIND STRANGERS, NON-DIALOGUE, USA | HEALTHY | JUNE 25, 2021
About a year ago, I decided to become a non-directed kidney donor. I live alone — except a five-month-old husky puppy — with all of my family in other states a good 2,000 miles away from where I’d just moved a year prior. As the surgery date started to approach, I needed to get things in order. I tend to be both very independent and overly optimistic about what I can get done on my own. Due to their own life difficulties, none of my family would be coming out to stay with me pre- or post-surgery. The following is a brief summary of the many wonderful ways I was reminded of just how wonderful people are.
My puppy: my puppy was a rescue I had found by the side of the road at the start of the health crisis. I’d just started going to the dog park with him when the surgery got scheduled. The surgery came up in conversation, and three different strangers volunteered to come to pick him up and bring him for walks and to the dog park. Another new friend with a small baby and a puppy of their own offered, without being asked, to take him for the entire hospital stay.
Homecare: while I was recovering from surgery, at least a dozen different people stopped by to clean my home, take my dog out, bring me meals, and help me get up to exercise. Several people also heard that I was not eating because of how bad I felt and made it a point to either bring me the only things I could stomach (variations on dry breads) or sit on the phone with me and go through menus until they said something that sounded edible.
School: I am a graduate student and did not fully appreciate the impact it would have on my semester, nor how much my classmates and professors would care. Every single professor continuously checked up on me and went out of their way to accommodate me as much as possible. One even dropped off special homemade soup at my home. Several classmates were kind and patient enough to review and reteach me whole units because I was too doped up on drugs to properly understand them the first time. They gave me rides to the store, took me out walking, and just sat patiently with me while I was miserable.
Possibly the sweetest was in the hospital. The night after the surgery was the worst. The anesthesia was finally wearing off and they had to double my pain meds, but the oxygen monitor kept going off every time I started to fall asleep. Apparently, I breathe shallowly when asleep. It was so awful and it was really late at night or early in the morning and I just felt so miserable and alone. I definitely was not rational and was extremely emotional. I proceeded to start going down my friend list on my phone calling people just to see if anyone was up and could keep me company. Every person I called answered. Half of them just read Jane Austen to me until I calmed down or would just talk so I could hear a familiar voice. The last person I called stayed on with me until the doctor came back around and was able to change the meds and get me off the oxygen so I could sleep.
With the exception of the people on the phone, none of these people had known me for more than a few months, and I’d only met most of them a handful of times. I’m doing great now, as is the donee. I’m doing so well, in fact, that it is easy to forget that the experience even happened — except when I look down at my scars, and then I get the chance to remember how a group of near-strangers took care of me like I was their sister, daughter, granddaughter, and friend.
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