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One Ring To Rue Them All
Bad Behavior, Doctor/Physician, Pharmacy, USA | Healthy | November 13, 2019
My mom has an accident at work and spills boiling water directly on her hand, badly burning several of her fingers, one of which happens to be the finger she wears her wedding ring on. Her boss drives her to a nearby pharmacy clinic where she is seen by the on-call doctor.

At this point, her fingers have swelled a lot, locking her wedding ring on her finger and causing painful constriction. It’s clear that the ring needs to be removed. My mother is assuming they will cut the ring off of her finger, which she is sad about, but at this point, she’s much more concerned about relieving the intense pain she is in. The doctor comes into the room and quickly examines her hand, saying, “What a beautiful ring! It would be such a shame to damage it by cutting it off!”

He then proceeds to forcibly yank the ring off of her finger past the swelling, putting my mother in even more pain and tearing open the blisters that have started to form.

She has since healed and is relieved to be able to wear her ring again and not need to pay to have it fixed, but she isn’t sure it was worth all of the pain and the extra time it took to recover due to the blisters being torn.

A Shot Of Ignorance
Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Jerk, Patients, The Netherlands | Healthy | November 11, 2019
(One evening, I get the call every person with an elderly relative fears: my 90+ grandma has fallen down and can’t get up. Luckily, she ended up next to the phone; she actually tripped as she was walking over to it because it was ringing. Since everyone else in our small family is either on vacation, not on speaking terms with Grandma, or living in a nursing home on the other side of town and not in possession of a driving license — or their full mental faculties — I am the only one who can help her out. I race over, hoping it’s just a case of having to help her up because she is in an awkward position, but as soon as I walk in the door and see the unnatural angle of her leg, I know we have a fracture on our hands and have to go to the hospital. We end up in an examination room at the ER, waiting for either the x-ray nurse or the neurologist, whoever shows up first. The neurologist has been called because Grandma hit her head on the stone windowsill when she fell, which caused a small wound and a bit of blood. That wound is the cause of the following conversation with a very chipper ER doctor.)

Doctor: “Well, Mrs. [Grandma], I know you’re waiting for the x-ray nurse and the neurologist, but I’m neither; I’m just here to give you a little tetanus shot.”

(My grandma is neither stupid nor suffering from dementia, but she has never had more than an elementary-school education, and apparently, she never learned what a tetanus shot is, leading to this little gem

Grandma: “A tetanus shot? What is that for?”

Doctor: “Well, ma’am, that’s for what we call ‘street dirt’–“

Grandma: *interrupting indignantly* “Street dirt? I fell inside my own home!”

(She sounds like she thinks what the doctor said is the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard, and he and I simply couldn’t contain our laughter. The doctor gives a brief explanation of what a tetanus shot is for, but too brief, apparently, because as soon as he is out the door…)

Grandma: “[My Name], what was all that about? I don’t get it. My house is clean!”

(I gave her a much more expansive explanation of germs, and why even her nice clean house wasn’t free of them. She was pretty horrified, but finding out her femur was broken soon took precedence. She could laugh about it later, though, when I mimicked her indignant tone. She almost sounded insulted at being associated with any kind of dirt.)

Mothers Are Fighters
Awesome, Hospital, Inspirational, New York, Non-Dialogue, USA | Healthy | November 10, 2019
Two years ago, I was admitted into the hospital for seven weeks via the ER. In good weather, the hospital is roughly an hour away. My boys were three and eight at the time and I had been a stay-at-home mom for most of their lives. My parents stepped up and helped keep the kids on a regular pattern of school, therapy, and play dates along with FaceTiming me. My husband would drive two round-trips a day to stay with me, see our kids, take care of our pets, and work.

This pattern repeated itself over again for the next six months, and at one point, I was told to start preparing my boys for life without me. The staff at the hospital was amazing. They tried their best to give me a room that faced outwards so I could see the sunset. They made sure I could be unhooked from chemo and transfusions when my boys got to visit. Then, they completely surprised us on Christmas when they gave us a Christmas party in my hospital room.

There were presents, food, and joy even though it was extremely hard to be there. They helped me fight even when I was beyond exhausted.

They became my family and even now we all stay in touch. They were complete angels that helped our family get through an extremely scary time.

I’m now in remission and hopefully will get the “cured” status once I reach five years in remission.

Allow Me To As-cyst You
Hospital, Mexico, Mexico City, Silly | Healthy | November 8, 2019
(I’m a licensed nurse. I work at a hospital, and I also make some money on the side by assisting a dermatologist at a private clinic when she needs an extra pair of hands for surgery. This patient has a cyst under the skin beneath her hair.)

Patient: “You have done this before?”

Me: “Sure! It’s actually pretty simple. We make an incision on your skin right here, drain the cyst, clean around, and sew you back up. I’m going to numb the area, so you won’t even feel a thing.”

Patient: “All right, then.”

Me: “Uh… look, honey, I’m going to have to shave your hair — a tiny spot right here — so that the doctor can see. I know, I know you won’t like that — no girl ever does — but I have to. Don’t hate me!”

Patient: *shrugs*

Me: *cuts the hair, and shaves the area*

Patient: *completely deadpan* “Oh, no, look at what you’ve done. Now I hate you.”

You Can’t Cough This Up To Cultural Differences
Australia, Health & Body, Jerk, Medical Office, Non-Dialogue | Healthy | November 7, 2019
I came into work today to hear my coworker, the office supervisor, in a high-volume discussion with a patient in another language. I don’t speak any other languages besides English, but I could tell the patient was agitated and my coworker was trying to neutralize it.

I let her handle that and helped other patients before my shift officially started. Later, she revealed the reason. Apparently, the patient was having an ultrasound with our chief sonographer. The patient was coughing on the sonographer, so they asked the patient to cover their mouth. The patient got offended by that and left the room in the middle of the scan. The patient commented things such as, “She shouldn’t be in the industry if she can’t take sick patients.”

My coworker tells me that in their culture coughing is open. They aren’t told to cover their mouths.

All three– the patient, sonographer, and coworker — are the same nationality.

Anti-Vaxxers Holding Out Until The Last Drop
Dallas, Jerk, Medical Office, Parents/Guardians, Stupid, Texas, USA | Healthy | November 5, 2019
(I work in the billing department for an emergency clinic, and I get a call from an upset mother.)

Mother: “I will sue you all! How dare you treat my son with [medical shot]?! It’s against our religion to do this! I didn’t sign any form to give consent!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, let me look up his information.”

(I look up the information. The day we treated her son was the day he turned eighteen; he was old enough to have any medical treatments without parental consent.)

Me: “Ma’am, I have it here that your son was eighteen the day he was treated. There’s nothing else I can tell you or discuss with you unless he calls and tells us it’s okay for us to talk to you.”

Mother: “That’s f****** ridiculous! He was not officially eighteen!”

Me: “It says on his driver’s license that he was eighteen on the day he was seen.”

Mother: “NO! He was born at 4:00 pm! He was seen at 10:00 am! He wasn’t officially 100% eighteen!”

Me: “Ma’am, we don’t go by the time of birth. We go by date of birth.”

This Relationship Has Teething Problems
Bad Behavior, France, Hospital, Strangers | Healthy | November 4, 2019
(I’m a dental student. During our fourth year, all of us have to do a week-long rotation at the ICU to provide “dental healthcare” to comatose patients — basically brushing their teeth with an iodine scrub and calling it a day. One of the patients is conscious but intubated, and he speaks using a whiteboard. After I finish brushing his teeth, a nurse comes into the room and makes small talk.)

Nurse: “So, I heard that [Woman] visited you yesterday, huh?”

(The patient nods.)

Nurse: “That’s nice! Also, your daughters called this morning; they want to come a bit later.”

Patient: *on the whiteboard* “Did they say what time?”

Nurse: “During the afternoon. They were afraid you’d get bored and alone, though, so I told them not to worry since [Woman] came by.”

(I see the patient’s eyes widen and he starts furiously scribbling on his whiteboard.)

Patient: “THEY DON’T KNOW ABOUT [WOMAN]!”

(I had to leave the room and didn’t stop laughing for a good five minutes.)

It Can Cause Anxiety To Diagnose Anxiety
Australia, Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Medical Office | Healthy | November 3, 2019
(In Australia, we have a universal healthcare program called Medicare which covers a significant portion of our medical bills. If you want to see a psychologist, Medicare will often cover 50-100% of the bill for ten sessions. However, you first have to go to a GP and get a referral to qualify. I have been struggling with my anxiety recently, so I went to the GP for a referral.)

GP: “How can I help you today?”

Me: “I’m looking to get a referral to a psychologist to help me with my anxiety.”

GP: “You’re a uni student, right?”

Me: “Yes. Working on my Masters.”

GP: “Do you really need a psychologist? I mean, it’s the end of the semester. All your classmates are stressed, just like you are. I’m sure how you’re feeling is no big deal.”

Me: “Right… and are all of my classmates having panic attacks in front of their student support officers because the support officer tried to start up a conversation about finding a job after graduation?”

GP: “Um… no.”

Me: “And is that something a mentally healthy person does?”

GP: “No. I’ll write you a referral.”

Your Treatment Of Hypermobility Is Making Me Hypertense
Bigotry, Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Medical Office, UK | Healthy | October 31, 2019
(This story has taken about five years to come to a close. When I was seventeen, I started having awful fatigue problems, sleeping up to fourteen hours a day, and being constantly exhausted. I’ve always been fairly healthy, hiking for fun and rock climbing on a weekly basis, but after a while, I became so tired and my joints and muscles started hurting so much that I couldn’t exercise anymore. Because of this, I put on some weight. At nineteen, I go to the doctor because I’m in constant pain and believe I may have hypermobility.)

Doctor #1 : “So, what’s the problem today?”

Me: *explains the last two years of problems, and how a friend showed me a list of hypermobility symptoms which seem to match up with what I’m experiencing*

Doctor #1 : “Okay, well, I’m actually the hypermobility specialist for this surgery so I’m going to take you through a series of tests.”

(He takes me through the tests, including touching the floor with my legs straight, bending my fingers and arms, etc.)

Doctor #1 : “Right, well, you definitely don’t have hypermobility; I don’t know how you got that idea in your head. You just need to lose some weight and you’ll be fine.”

Me: “How am I supposed to do that if I’m in pain all the time?”

Doctor #1 : “Oh, just take some painkillers, exercise more, and eat less junk food. You’ll be fine.”

(Miserable, but believing him, I spend the next three years in increasing pain, eventually unable to work, socialise, or do any of my old hobbies because I’m so exhausted all the time. I fall into a deep depression, believing that I’m making it up and that I’m just lazy. Finally, after counselling and heaps of support from my friends, I get an appointment at the closest rheumatology clinic.)

Doctor #2 : “All right, how can I help you today?”

Me: *twists my neck, making three to four loud pops on each side*

Doctor #2 : *blinks in surprise* “Oh… are they all like that?”

Me: “Yup. I can crack pretty much every joint in my body, including my elbows and my kneecaps.”

Doctor #2 : *after she takes me through all the same tests for hypermobility as the first doctor and a pressure point test to check for fibromyalgia* “Well, you’re definitely hypermobile in your upper body — anyone could see that — and the swelling around your knees is particularly concerning. I’m going to send you off for some tests and give you a prescription for an anti-inflammatory painkiller tablet. If it’s not enough, come back and I’ll give you some more. I can’t believe you’ve been dealing with this for five years!”

(Now, after a year and a half of unemployment, I have a job I love and am able to do with energy left over for twice-weekly climbing sessions and plenty of socialising. Thank you to the second doctor I saw, and to the first doctor? F*** you.)

Give Thanks For Fewer Scams
Canada, Geography, Holidays, Jerk, Liars/Scammers | Healthy | October 28, 2019
(On Canadian Thanksgiving Day, an hour before supper, I’m scrambling preparing food when the phone rings and, lo and behold, I’ve won a cruise! Frustrated at the timing, I let it go to the operator…)

Me: “Hi. It’s Thanksgiving evening suppertime and I don’t appreciate being called. Please take me off your list.”

Scammer: “It’s not Thanksgiving.”

Me: *dumbfounded that they don’t even know where they’re calling* “I’m in Canada, you knob. It’s Thanksgiving here. Take me off your list, please.”

Scammer: “No.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Scammer: “No. Not until you say sorry for calling me a knob.”

(Granted, I shouldn’t be calling people names, but considering the circumstances…)

Me: “Yeah, that’s not going to happen now. You may be in America, but in Canada it’s Thanksgiving and your scam is interrupting our supper.”

Scammer: “I’m not really American. One of my parents is Mexican and the other is American.”

Me: “How’s that relevant? Please take me off your list.”

Scammer: “Just America is better and we earn money way faster than you.”

Me: “I doubt that at a scam job, and I’ll stick with my free healthcare, thanks.”

Scammer: “We out-earn you, and this isn’t a scam.”

Me: “Really? I really won a free cruise?”

Scammer: *perks up* “Yes, you did, ma’am!”

Me: “No, I didn’t. Take me off your list and HAPPY THANKSGIVING!” *hangs up*

(I was thankful to get off the phone.)

Pushing Buttons Is Not Your Calling
Hospital, Non-Dialogue, Nurses, Pennsylvania, Pittsburgh, Technology, USA | Healthy | January 6, 2020
I am in the hospital after having emergency surgery on a dislocated ankle and a broken leg. It is the middle of the night and my post-surgery pain medicine has worn off. I locate the nurse call button and press it, but nothing happens. I do this multiple times, to no avail.

I grab my cell phone and use the flashlight to light up the room telephone so I can read the number. I call the number and let the phone ring. It is loud and doesn’t stop, because I don’t answer it. After about five minutes, a nurse comes to investigate why the phone is ringing, and I am able to tell her I’m in extreme pain.

She brings me pain medicine and tells me that they’ve had issues with the button in the past. It wasn’t unplugged or anything; it just flat out didn’t work! Why they’d still use it completely mystifies me!

Giving Them The Stink-Eye
Coworkers, Health & Body, Non-Dialogue, Office, Revolting, Texas, USA | Healthy | January 1, 2020
At my job, I’m considered a lead, so if an employee brings in any paperwork that needs to go to human resources or needs their paycheck, I handle it.

An employee came up to me, handed me their doctor’s note, and asked if they could get their paycheck. I put the doctor’s note in the scanner, and then I handed them the paperwork for their paycheck along with a pen to sign with. After they signed, I signed.

I then copied the doctor’s note, and as I was handing them their copy, I saw the reason they had been out: “conjunctivitis ” or pink eye. I looked at them with a “Really?” look.

I went to my locker and got hand sanitizer. As I came back to the desk, the employee told me, “You might want to sanitize the pen; I’m still contagious.”

I waited until she left and then sanitized the door handles to our office and threw away the pen. I sat there wondering about what an idiot she was while the other employees laughed at me.

You Have To Spell It Out To Them
Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Jerk, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | December 29, 2019
(I have recently been diagnosed with epilepsy at age fifteen and am at my fourth or fifth neurology appointment. For some background, some types of epilepsy can be categorized as “reflex,” meaning there is usually a trigger — most people are familiar with flashing lights — but there are a huge variety of triggers, ranging from drinking alcohol to hearing a specific kind of music. I am describing to my neurologist some symptoms I’ve been experiencing.)

Me: “Sometimes while I’m reading, I’ll have spells where the words are very difficult or I can’t read them at all.”

Neurologist: *mostly disinterested* “Oh… Well, have you been diagnosed with learning issues?”

(I’ve told him all of this before.)

Me: “No. I’ve been reading since I was four and it’s actually one of my favorite things to do. I’ve never shown any signs of dyslexia or anything like it.”

Neurologist: “Do you notice any patterns to when this occurs?”

Me: “I’ve noticed it happening a lot when I’m reading in Spanish.”

(I’m in AP Spanish and have been studying the language for around six years; I’m definitely not fluent yet but am reasonably proficient. I have also told him this before.)

Neurologist: *long silence* “You’re probably just bad at Spanish. Go ahead and schedule another appointment for a month out.” *leaves*

(I ended up not telling my parents about this part of the appointment for around six months because I was embarrassed and believed my neurologist that I was probably exaggerating. However, during this time, the symptoms worsened, so I told my parents who found another neurologist — incidentally, around thirty years younger. He immediately diagnosed me with reading epilepsy, which is fairly uncommon but absolutely not unheard of and has nothing to do with any prior learning disabilities. For me, it is triggered by unfamiliar words, which, obviously, come up more often in a second language. I’ve now, thankfully, been able to receive much better care.)

Assign The Doctor A Memory Test
Australia, Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Medical Office, New South Wales, Sydney | Healthy | December 27, 2019
(I have been going to the same GP since I was about fifteen, my daughter since she was born, but it seems to be time to find a new one as ours is showing his age; he has been getting more and more forgetful. I have ordered blood tests as I have developed some allergies recently; my daughter needs hers done for a heart issue and also needs a script for heart meds. He asks her what she needs this particular medicine for and we have to explain, even though he has been doing the scripts for the past five years. We get our bloods at the same time. He starts with my daughter’s and tells her that everything but her iron levels is in the normal range. He gives her the printed results to take to her cardiologist; he is going to print a copy for himself but he writes the results into her file. Then, he goes over mine. He reads out everything as good, but when he gets to my liver results…)

GP: “Oh, no, we need to get you some tests right away; your liver results are not good.”

Me: “Yes, I know. I have [liver disease].”

GP: “You have [liver disease]? Who told you that?”

Me: “You did.”

GP: “Not me. I would have remembered that. There would be notes and paperwork in your file.” *rifles through files to prove it isn’t there and finds the paperwork* “Oh, I did tell you.”

(We realise that he’s not given us a new referral letter for the cardiologist appointment, so we go back.)

GP: “Okay, [Daughter], we need to get blood tests done for you to take to your appointment.”

Daughter: “I had the blood tests done already.”

GP: “Who with?”

Daughter: “Uh, you.”

GP: *rifles through her files and after looking over some paperwork* “Oh, looks like you have to get more sun; you have very low Vitamin D.”

Daughter: “No, you said low iron.”

GP: “No it’s Vitamin D. Look; it’s only sixteen.” *hands her a blood test result*

Me: “No, she had low Vitamin D last year; this time it was low iron.”

GP: “It says it right there.”

Daughter: “Um, this is last year’s result; look at the date.”

GP: “It has it on this result, too. You had the test in September.” *holds up another sheet that I take off him*

Me: “This is last year’s, too — September 2018. Her last one was in October this year.”

GP: “But the results aren’t here; if I did them they would be.”

Daughter: “You gave them to me.”

GP: “Why did I do that?”

Daughter: “I needed them for the cardiologist.”

GP: “But I would have written the results on your file and printed up a copy, as well; I definitely didn’t write anything.” *runs his finger up the writing on her files* “Oh, so I did.”

Quite The Operation Santa’s Got Going
Adorable Children, Awesome, California, Coworkers, Holidays, Inspirational, USA, Vet | Healthy | December 25, 2019
(I work at a vet clinic that is open late night for emergencies and offers boarding. A couple of years ago, [Former Coworker] had to stop working in order to care for a disabled family member, but she left on good terms with the doctor and still has coffee with the manager regularly. Her son has been asking for a dog for quite a while now. Not just any dog, he knows the exact breed and color pattern he wants. At the staff meeting Monday, the doctor let us all know that [Former Coworker] was going to be surprising her son with a puppy for Christmas. She had found the exact dog he wanted and would be adopting it later this week and bringing it here to board with us until late Christmas Eve when she would pick it up. The morning she brings the puppy in, [Coworker] and I are working at the front desk. She is greeting people as they walk in and handling check-ins. I am checking out a family who just finished their cat’s exam. They have a little girl about six years old, too short to be seen over the counter from where [Coworker] is.)

Coworker: “Hello, how can I… Oh, hey, [Former Coworker], long time no see. So, this is the puppy Santa is bringing [Son]? He’s gonna be so thrilled; it’s exactly what he’s been asking for.”

Young Girl: *very loudly* “If Santa is bringing that puppy to someone, why is he here? Shouldn’t he be at the North Pole?”

(My coworker is clearly at a loss for words and starts sputtering.)

Former Coworker: *just hands [Coworker] the puppy and bends down to the girl* “Your parents haven’t told you? See, when Santa brings a child a pet he calls the parents first to make sure the house has everything that it needs, like food and toys and a dog bed, and space for the animal, and that the kid can take care of it. Then, if the parents say it’s okay, Santa looks all over the world to find the perfect animal, and then, because he doesn’t want the puppies and kittens to get bored in the sleigh and eat other kid’s presents, he has his helpers take them to a safe place near the kid’s house. So, Christmas Eve, Santa will come here and pick up the puppy right before coming to [Son]’s house.”

Little Girl: “Oh, so, that’s why when I got [Cat], Santa just brought her bed and food and had Mommy take me to the shelter after Christmas?”

Former Coworker: “Exactly, he knew [Cat] would be happier playing at the shelter rather than being stuck in his sleigh all night, and that she would just get into trouble with all the wrapping paper on Christmas morning.”

Mom: “That’s right; we got a call from an elf letting us know where [Cat] was.”

Former Coworker: “Yep, the elves have every parent’s phone number. Parents get calls from the elves to make sure they have the batteries and other things needed for the toys, helmets for when they get bikes, that sort of thing.”

(At this point, the girl’s family finishes paying and leaves, the little girl happily asking her parents if Santa has called them about presents this year.)

Coworker: *sighs in relief* “I can’t believe you thought of that so fast; I was so worried I’d just ruined Christmas.”

Former Coworker: *laughs* “Last year, my sister got caught by her girls setting up a playhouse, she told them that Santa was behind schedule and woke her up and asked her to put it together so it would be all ready in the morning. The girls just nodded and went back to bed, but in the morning, the oldest said it was a bit rude of Santa not to tell Mommy she would need to set it up. And we all agreed that Santa should have had an elf call first.”

Will Pass That Class Kicking And Screaming
High School, New Jersey, Non-Dialogue, Pranks, Silly, Teachers, USA | Healthy | December 22, 2019
Many years ago, when I am in high school, I join my local volunteer first aid squad and sign up for EMT training. The classes are largely interesting, and I learn a lot. However, EMTs have a strange sense of humor sometimes.

When we get to the maternity section, the final exam for that part of the course consists of delivering a baby. This is accomplished with a set of special dummies: one which is made to replicate the lower body of a woman, and of course, the infant doll which the instructor pushes out for the person to deliver. The proper procedure is to “catch” the infant as it comes out, clean it gently, and then lay it on the mother’s chest for her to hold.

All is going well in the exam, the students having been broken up into groups and assigned to the dummy on which they will take the exam… until, that is, one of the instructors quietly goes around the room, collecting all of the infant dummies and secreting them away.

At this point, only one group is still testing, as there are no baby dummies to be had anywhere else. One young man approaches to begin his test, and the instructor who’d been taking the dummies steps up to administer it…

And proceeds to begin screaming at the top of his lungs.

The instructor is wailing like he’s being murdered, which, of course, causes the entire room to look over at what is going on. Never breaking his cry, he begins to push the infant doll through. The poor student is terrified, but he still follows procedure admirably.

But the instructor doesn’t stop screaming.

Not sure what to do, the boy is standing there when another infant starts to come out. So he catches that one, too. Then, the next one. And the one after that. Each time they come faster and faster. It looks like an “I Love Lucy” routine as the poor boy is struggling to catch the dolls, clean them, and place them before the next one comes. It’s to the point where he is stacking the babies like logs on the “mother” because there is no room for them, and he barely manages to put one down before the next one is out.

All the while, the instructor never stops wailing.

The rest of the class is, of course, cracking up. We’re all laughing so hard we can’t breathe. The poor student is handling it admirably, though, never giving up or getting mad. Finally, about two dozen babies later, the instructor runs out of dummies. The test is allowed to end, and the instructor ceases screaming.

The student does pass the exam, but he is admonished that in the future he probably shouldn’t stack newborn infants like Jenga blocks.

Welcome To The Stage, Ma’am-O-Gram!
Editors' Choice, Hospital, Indianapolis, Non-Dialogue, Rude & Risque, USA, Wordplay | Healthy | December 20, 2019
During my regular mammogram, the doctor saw a lump that they wanted better images of, so I went to the clinic for the diagnostic mammogram follow-up. In my mid-forties now, I used to be an exotic dancer years ago, and I’m not exactly shy.

The nurse was getting me prepped for the diagnostic mammogram. This involved a couple of magic marker lines for orientation. She also applied some kind of metal sticker to point to the area of interest.

She turned to put a note in the file and told me, “Give me two shakes and we’ll get this done and over with.”

Odd directions… but I gave her my best shimmy, making sure that the sticker stayed attached to my swinging breasts.

She laughed so hard that she dropped her pen and needed a minute to recollect her professional cool.

Apparently, she meant the phrase “in two shakes of a lamb’s tail,” meaning, “in a short time.” She wasn’t expecting a show!

Emergency Services Needs To Address This Issue
Colorado, Emergency Services, Geography, Lafayette, Lazy/Unhelpful, USA | Healthy | December 18, 2019
(Leaving the fast-food drive-thru window, I am overwhelmed with a wave of nausea and dizziness. I manage to pull across several parking spaces and wait, hoping I’ll feel better. I don’t. I think I might pass out, and wish I’d throw up because that might make me feel better. Clearly, I can’t drive, and I have no idea what was wrong. Dizzy, scared, and disoriented, I call 911.)

911: “911! What’s the address of your emergency?”

Me: “I have no idea. I’m at the [Fast Food Restaurant] on the corner of [Highway] and [Cross street].”

911: “But I need a specific address.”

Me: “I can’t give you a specific address. I’m in pain and scared. I’m at–” *repeats cross streets* “Please help me!”

911: “We cannot help you without a street address, ma’am.”

Me: *losing my cool completely* “Okay, start at the hospital. Drive north on [Highway] a few blocks. When you get to [Major Store], look to the east, to your right. You will see [Fast Food Place] with a car parked across several spots. That’s me!”

(Funniest thing, they did find me! It turned out to be a kidney stone.)

Deck The Halls With Bouts Of Nausea
Lazy/Unhelpful, Non-Dialogue, Pharmacy, Texas, USA | Healthy | December 16, 2019
I have chronic nausea. I take a prescription nausea medication to keep it under control so I can eat and function. The nausea is related to stress, as well as my diagnosed depression and anxiety.

Six days ago at the time of writing, two days before Thanksgiving, my grandmother, who has to handle most phone calls for me due to my hearing issues, called the pharmacy to request a refill of my meds because I was almost out. Later, we got a call telling us that the refill request had been denied because my doctor’s office said I had to see the doctor before I could get a refill. I called the doctor the next day and was told that they had sent in an approval, but they would send another one to be sure.

Pharmacy still said they had no approvals, only a denial.

Thanksgiving came and the office was closed. I checked the pharmacy again, and they still said they only had a denial and couldn’t fill it.

Black Friday, same deal, but we got a call from someone at my doctor’s office informing us that they’d be closed until Monday. I only had enough of my meds to get me through Black Friday. I ended up skipping my second dose so I would have one for Saturday morning, and was unable to eat dinner on Friday.

Same deal with the pharmacy on both Saturday and Sunday. No approvals received, only one denial, and they still couldn’t fill it even though I was unable to eat or drink without it at this time. I even got on the phone myself and cry and beg the pharmacist to give me an emergency three-day supply that the law allows, and was told no because of the “denial.”

This morning, Cyber Monday, after going the entire weekend feeling like I was in Hell since eating was pretty much impossible, my grandmother called my doctor’s office to set up an appointment for the first time slot they could fit me into today.

She was informed that they absolutely did not send in a denial, I did not need to see my doctor before getting a refill, and that their system says I don’t have to see my doctor for a refill on my medication until sometime next year. My doctor knows that I need the medication every single day to be able to eat, and I’m about twenty pounds underweight right now due to stress-induced illness that lasted for three months solid, so I need to be able to get a refill at any time until I gain some weight back.

It turns out that someone at the pharmacy put it on my file that they were sent a denial and got no approvals whatsoever. A few hours ago, I got a text saying that I had a prescription ready for pickup, which would be done first thing in the morning because we couldn’t get to the store.

I have filed a complaint with corporate for the store the pharmacy is in, and my complaint has been forwarded to the store manager with the assurance that the incident will be investigated and that this absolutely should not have happened. The person I conversed with — via chat — was horrified about it.

I hope that pharmacist gets fired and feels proud of themselves for giving a disabled woman no less than five panic attacks over the course of three days and causing her a lot of unnecessary stress that has likely set back her recovery from illness. I won’t be able to fully enjoy Christmas with my family now because I’ll still be recovering and having trouble eating much food.

Just Another Kidney Stoner
Bad Behavior, Hospital, Lazy/Unhelpful, Nurses, USA | Healthy | December 15, 2019
(I have a massive kidney stone trying to pass. I’m in the hospital, waiting for surgery to reduce the size. I suddenly have massive pain, bad enough my vision goes fuzzy. I’m crying, unable to really form words. I press my call button. After a moment, a nurse comes in.)

Nurse: “Can I help you?”

Me: “Pain… bad…”

Nurse: “On a scale of one to ten?”

Me: “Ten!”

(Because of the pain, I practically shout the number.)

Nurse: “You don’t need to raise your voice! I’ll get you something!”

(She leaves and comes back a minute later with a pill.)

Nurse: “Here’s some Tylenol.”

(All I can do is look at her, since that won’t be anywhere near enough for how my pain is.)

Nurse: “Well?! Take it!”

Me: “Need more…”

Nurse: “Ugh, you’re probably just a drug seeker! I’m not giving you anything else!”

(At this point, I just break down sobbing. She storms out. A few minutes later, my doctor comes in.)

Doctor: “Are you okay?!”

Me: “Pain bad… help…”

Doctor: “Okay, sweetie, I just need to know if you can tell me what number you’re at.”

Me: “Ten…”

Doctor: “All right. Do you want me to wait here while I have someone bring you medication?”

Me: “Please!”

(She does stay with me. After she calls the pharmacy, she holds my hand and talks to me to calm me back down. Once the medication is brought up and put into my IV, she makes sure it starts working.)

Doctor: “Your nurse said you were asking for drugs?”

Me: “No, I pushed my call light and told her I was in pain. She yelled at me saying that’s all I wanted and then left.”

Doctor: “She apparently thought you were faking something to get pain meds for an addiction. There’s no way you could fake a kidney stone on the imaging results. I’ll make sure you don’t have to deal with her anymore.”

(True to her word, I didn’t see that nurse for the rest of my stay.)