Food for the body and soul

Had The Gall To Feed You
Florida, Hospital, Nurses, Stupid, USA | Healthy | June 3, 2019
(I’ve just had gallbladder surgery. They want to keep me overnight for observation. A nurse brings me a dinner tray. I am surprised to find a full meal plus a soda.)

Me: “Um, hey… They said I wasn’t supposed to have solid food yet.”

Nurse #1 : “No, you can have this. It’s been approved. No worries.”

(I’m slightly confused, but I figure I must’ve misheard while I was still loopy from anesthesia. I get a couple sips of soda in and a bite of food before I feel the urge to empty my stomach. Thankfully, another nurse is walking by and runs in to get a bucket.)

Nurse #2 : “Yep, that sometimes happens after gallbladder surgery. No worries, hon. Glad I was walking by, eh?”

(She glances over at the tray of food and raises an eyebrow.)

Nurse #2 : “Where did that come from?”

Me: “Someone brought it in ten minutes ago. They said I could have it.”

Nurse #2 : *calmly* “No. No. Absolutely not. You get clear liquids tonight. No carbonation, either. Let me get this out of here, and I’ll find you some Jello.”

(She picks up the tray and walks out the door. I hear the following as she disappears down the hallway.)

Nurse #2 : “ALL RIGHT! WHO WAS THE DUMBA** THAT GAVE A GALLBLADDER PATIENT REAL FOOD? TELL ME NOW!”

That Day Just Flu Past
Doctor/Physician, Medical Office, Stupid, USA | Healthy | June 2, 2019
(This happens when I get sick during middle school. My mother brings me to urgent care to get me checked out.)

Doctor: “Looks like she’s managed to catch this year’s flu.” *gives usual instructions for dealing with it* “After her temperature has been normal for a full day she can go back to school.”

Mom: “Just one day?”

Doctor: “Yes, that should be long enough.”

(My mother tells me on the car ride home that she found this odd. Before, when my brother or I have gotten sick like this, our regular doctor has instructed her to keep us home until our temperature was normal for two full days. But, he’s the doctor, right? He must know what he’s talking about. So, once my fever has been down for a day, I go back to school. The day starts out fine, but on the bus ride home I start to feel really cruddy. I tell my mom how I’m feeling, and we end up going into urgent care again. A nurse comes in to talk to us first, and my mom tells her about my last visit there.)

Nurse: “He said to send her back after only one day of feeling better? Seriously?!”

(She was pretty incredulous that such instructions had been given. The checkup proceeded, and it turns out I’d caught pneumonia. That most likely happened because I’d gone back to school before my immune system was able to fully bounce back.)

Doesn’t Understand The Weight That Comes With Being A Doctor
Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Medical Office, Stupid, USA, Virginia | Healthy | June 1, 2019
(I go to a doctor’s office where you have a regularly-prescribed doctor but if they are out, you get another that works in that specific building. I have been suffering from extreme menstrual pains ever since I started and have been to the doctor many times to find a solution, getting dumb answers — such as when I tell them I’ve lost about 50 pounds over six months and they tell me that I’m not watching my weight — but this one takes the cake.)

Newer Doctor: “I see you’ve been here for this problem before. What did [Regular Doctor] say?”

Me: “The last time I was here, he suggested [pain reliever] and to stop eating dairy completely, and if that didn’t work, he was going to prescribe me [birth control].”

Newer Doctor: “Oh, no, no, no. We are not going to put you on a pill to mess with all your hormones. You should go on a diet and you’ll start to feel better.”

Me: “But I’m already on the Keto diet. Do you want me to start eating ice?”

Newer Doctor: “I don’t believe that! I’ve seen your records of weight, and you’ve lost a lot, but you need to lose much more!”

Me: “Isn’t the suggested weight 180 pounds? I’m 195. At this rate, I’ll be 140 before summer!”

Newer Doctor: “That’s good! A doctor should always tell you to lose weight! I hate when I go to the doctor and they just try to change everything about my body.”

Me: *thinking* “Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?!”

(I took her advice with a grain of salt and went back when my regular doctor got back. I started taking the pill and it has helped significantly!)

“Cheer Up!” Is What All People With Depression Want To Hear
Doctor/Physician, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, Pennsylvania, Stupid, USA | Healthy | May 31, 2019
(After a couple of years of not being able to go to counseling for my various issues, I am trying out a new practice with my new insurance. This occurs during the initial interview with the physician’s assistant who is supposed to help me choose a counselor.)

Me: “And I sometimes feel like, whatever decision I make will be the wrong one, just because I made it…”

Physician’s Assistant: *without looking up from her notes* “Oh, don’t feel like that.”

Me: “Um, I’m sorry?”

Physician’s Assistant: “You shouldn’t feel like that. It’s not helpful.” *finally looking up at me* “So, what were you saying?”

(That was the last time I went to that office. I have to wonder how many years of schooling this woman had under her belt, and still somehow thought it was a brilliant idea to tell someone with severe depression and anxiety that all their problems would be solved if they just “don’t feel like that”!)

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Nursing Them Into A Modern Education
Bigotry, Home, Kansas, Students, Stupid, USA | Healthy | May 31, 2019
(One summer, I tutor a kid in my neighborhood because he failed his freshman English course and needs to retake it as summer school. One day while we are working, my brother, who is working on his RN at the time, comes downstairs in his scrubs and heads to work. Once he leaves, the kid I am tutoring asks about my brother.)

Me: “Yeah, my brother is studying to be a nurse.”

Kid: “You mean a doctor?”

Me: “No, a nurse.”

Kid: “Wait, men can be nurses?”

(This kid was 14 and genuinely had no idea that men could be nurses. He thought men were doctors and women were nurses. I don’t know if he thought those were just gendered terms for the same profession, or if he genuinely thought that no man would ever stoop to being a nurse, but I found that a little worrying, as did my brother when I told him.)

I Am Anti-Antibiotics
Doctor/Physician, England, Hospital, Jerk, UK | Healthy | May 30, 2019
(After I get back from my vacation, I get a bad UTI infection and need antibiotics from my General Practitioner. I am prescribed a course and everything is good until the evening. My entire body randomly breaks out in spots — big, red, blotchy patches. It feels like ants are crawling over my entire body. At around three am, I go to the urgent care centre and the out-of-hours GP calls me through.)

Me: “I have this rash. It hurts so much. It started after I started taking the penicillin this morning. I’ve never been allergic before but my mum and grandma are—“

GP: “I’ll stop you there. This is clearly eczema.”

Me: “I don’t think so. My chest really hurts, too.”

GP: “Definitely eczema. There isn’t much I can do.”

Me: “I don’t think it’s eczema. It’s come on really suddenly.”

(I’m struggling to breathe and the rash has spread up my neck and throat.)

GP: “Stop being a baby! My niece has diabetes and she’s never moaned as much as you have right now!”

(I excuse myself and stumble back to the waiting room. My mum is there and manages to catch me as I collapse on the floor. She calls for an ambulance and the doctor comes back out.)

GP: “You can’t sleep here!”

Mum: “She can’t breathe, you idiot!”

(The ambulance came and I was given an adrenaline shot and rushed into the main section of the hospital. I was right. It was anaphylaxis. I was having an allergic reaction to penicillin.)

I Don’t Drink, But After This, I Wanna
Bad Behavior, Doctor/Physician, England, Hampshire, Medical Office, UK | Healthy | May 29, 2019
(I am 19, and I go in for my annual checkup at the doctor. I am given a standard medical questionnaire to fill in. One of the questions is, “On average, how many units of alcohol do you drink a week?” I have never been a big drinker, not even as a teen. Not for any particular reason; it just isn’t my thing. At most, I have a few drinks on New Years and a few on my birthday. I write on the form that I have a couple of units a week, which would average out to the few drinks on my birthday and New Years with plenty of wiggle room to spare, just in case. I hand the form in, and it is sent to the doctor. Eventually, he calls me in. We do my height and weight and blood pressure. All good. Then he comes to my alcohol intake and narrows his eyes at me.)

Doctor: “You can be truthful, you know. I’m a medical professional.”

Me: “I know. I am being honest. I’m not a big drinker.”

(He stares at me for a while.)

Doctor: “I was young once. And I have teenage kids. I’m not going to judge you. Be honest.”

Me: “I am being honest. I’m not a drinker.”

Doctor: *condescendingly* “What do you do when you go clubbing? Drink water?”

(Taken aback, I shake my head. I don’t go clubbing; nightclubs are my idea of Hell. I have a full-time job, often working fifty or more hours, and I have no interest in going to loud clubs or bars on my days off.)

Me: “I don’t go out much. I’d rather go out for coffee than go clubbing.”

(The doctor raises his eyebrows.)

Doctor: “Okay, well, I’m going to put you down for ten units a week.”

(He picks up his pen and actually crosses out what I wrote.)

Me: “No! What I wrote was true. I don’t drink. Even a few units a week is generous. I don’t want you to change what I wrote.”

Doctor: “Look, just be honest. If you’re not, we can’t treat you.”

Me: “I am being honest. I don’t give you permission to change it.”

Doctor: “Well, I’m the doctor, and I have reason to believe you are being dishonest. You need to stop lying on medical forms. That’s a big deal. If you keep lying on them, you could die because we don’t have the right information.”

(I keep trying to argue with him but he writes over what I wrote and puts down ten units a week. Dumbfounded and unsure of what to do, I carry on with the rest of the exam, just wanting it to be over. As soon as I am out, I go straight to reception and tell them I want to make a complaint. At first, the receptionist is alarmed and asks what the problem is. When I tell her, she pauses and then rolls her eyes.)

Receptionist: “Look, sweetie, we won’t tell your parents. Everything you tell us is confidential.”

Me: “I live by myself. That’s not my issue. The doctor falsified my medical records without my permission.”

Receptionist: “Your medical records need to be accurate, sweetie. Otherwise, we can’t treat you.”

(The receptionist refuses to log my complaint. When I continue to insist, she looks down her nose at me.)

Receptionist: “For somebody who doesn’t drink, you sure are protesting a lot.”

(I wanted to scream at her that I was angry because they were DELIBERATELY FALSIFYING my medical records, but instead, I left and transferred to another practice.)

They Don’t “Do” Paying
Belgium, Call Center, Insurance, Non-Dialogue, Stupid | Healthy | May 28, 2019
(I used to work for a medical insurance company. I answered phone calls and emails from customers who had questions about their insurance policy or reimbursements. In this case, the customer had a coverage of 80%, meaning that he had to pay for 20% of the amount himself. The following is an exchange over email.)

Customer: “I saw that 80% of my invoice was paid, but what do I have to do about the remaining balance?”

Me: “The coverage for this type of expense is 80%. This means that we have paid for 80% of your expenses to the hospital directly. The other 20% should be paid by you, yourself.”

Customer: “I don’t understand. What do I have to do?”

Me: “Since the coverage is not at 100%, this means that we cannot pay for 100%. We have paid our share to the hospital. The remaining balance of [amount] should be paid to the hospital by you, yourself. If you have already paid this to the hospital, everything is fine and no further action is required. If you want, you can give me a phone call or provide me with your phone number, so I can give you a call, so I can explain this to you by phone.”

Customer: “I really don’t understand. What do you want me to do?”

(He has given me no phone number and no other option than to send another email.)

Me: “The amount of [amount] has to be paid to the hospital by you, yourself. If you have already paid [amount] to the hospital, you should do nothing. If you have not yet paid [amount] to the hospital, you need to pay [amount] to the hospital. If you are unsure whether you have paid or not, please contact the hospital’s billing department.”

Customer: “I am [Customer]’s manager and I have been over these emails with him. We both do not understand what he needs to do.”

(Again, I was given no phone number. At that point, I decided to break the rules and put the email back in the general mailbox instead of my personal one to let someone else deal with it. The worst part is that these people work for the United Nations.)

The Next One Won’t Even Make It Out Of The House
Australia, Editors' Choice, Emergency Services, Family & Kids, Friends, Patients | Healthy | May 27, 2019
(My friend is in labour and it becomes clear she is going to have her baby in the back of the ambulance. She is freaking out.)

Paramedic: *trying to comfort her* “This is nothing. Last year, a woman had a baby in the hospital car park.”

Friend: *wailing* “That was me!”

Risk Of Breast Cancer Is Not The Worst Thing In This Story
Billing, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, Stupid, USA | Healthy | May 26, 2019
I’m a young woman who doesn’t have to go in for yearly mammograms, but when doing a check one month, I notice a possible lump. Women are encouraged to visit their doctor immediately when this happens, as breast cancer can be very aggressive. I go in to my regular doctor office, but the PA I normally see is on maternity leave, so a different one is scheduled for my visit.

The new physician is nice, but it all goes downhill once she refers me for additional testing. Her assistant schedules the referral without a checking date or time with me and doesn’t give me all the appointment info. My mammogram appointment starts out rocky as a result, but thankfully they don’t find any cancer so I’m pronounced healthy and sent on my way.

Fast forward a couple weeks, and I get an outrageous bill for the facility I was referred to. I reach out to the hospital billing and then my doctor’s office. The hospital billing team is very nice but the doctor’s office doesn’t care that they botched my referral by pushing me over to one of their connected facilities. I talk to them about once a week for a month and a half, and their office manager can’t remember to return my calls. Finally, after leaving a message for the office manager’s boss, hospital billing gets involved.

The office manager has requested that they just comp my bill because of all the issues –more than what I mentioned above — I’ve had when dealing with them. She says it should be cleared up, so I end that call relieved. Hospital billing steps in, and suddenly I’m being told that my bill is not being comped. I’m normally non-confrontational, but the woman I’m speaking to is so rude and doesn’t seem to care that her organization’s facilities have repeatedly messed up just about every interaction I’ve had related to this initial visit, or that I’ve been promised the bill will be written off already. We argue for several minutes until she agrees to take another day to look into this more and decide. It’s really just a stall on her part, as reneging on writing off the remaining bill will be going back on what her colleague promised.

She calls me the next day and begrudgingly agrees that they’ll comp my bill. I also end up speaking to the office manager again, who reminds me that they’ll expect me to pay my bills in the future.

For the record, I always pay my bills and had given them an initial payment which I thought was kind of a co-pay. I learned better as a result of this and will not make that mistake again.

We all think everything is resolved until a couple months later, when I get some cryptic call from some woman that I can barely understand. She’s asking for me to identify myself so she can discuss my account with me. I tell her that I don’t know who she is and I’m not comfortable with sharing personal info. She says that’s fine but I should call them back when I’m ready. Somewhere during the conversation, she says something that makes me realize this is a collections call.

Of course, she won’t tell me anything unless I share my info with her, but the only billing snafu of late was the hospital one. So, I call them and end up finding out that when they bill, the facility sends one bill but the radiologist sends a separate bill. And somehow, I should know that these bills are sent separately.

By now, I’m freaked because a) I thought this was resolved a few months ago, and b) I’m planning to buy a house and don’t want a collections account to show up on my credit report.

I make a few calls that result in me leaving a message with the rude hospital billing lady I spoke to a few months before. She leaves me a message later letting me know that she’s spoken to the second billing team and it should be taken care of. Our insurance person at work also tells me to call back the collections agency and let them know I’m working things out with the hospital. I do and they freeze the collections account for me.

I’ve not heard anything from either billing group, so it all seems to be resolved now. And I’ve switched to a different doctor’s office, one not connected to the hospital. Everyone is really nice and so far I’ve had no issues.

Moral of the story: ask lots of questions when your doctor refers you anywhere. And don’t go unless your insurance has signed off on that being the best in-network facility and estimated how much it will cost.

A Truly Laborious Line Of Questioning
Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Jerk, Nurses, UK | Healthy | May 23, 2019
(My sister has recently gone into labour. I have come to the hospital to drop off some things she forgot to pack. As I head into her room, I hear her screaming.)

Sister: “I’M IN LABOUR! WHAT DO YOU THINK?!”

(I see she has been screaming at a nurse. The nurse blushes and runs out.)

Me: “What was that about?”

Sister: “She walks in and looks at my records, then asks, ‘Is it possible you’re pregnant?’ I ask her if she’s joking and she starts scolding me for being insensitive to pregnant women. We’re on a f****** maternity ward!”

(I burst out laughing, and after a while, my sister did, as well. The head nurse dropped by later to apologise for the nurse’s behaviour. My sister would have been fine with it and apologised, too, until the head nurse let slip that the nurse refused to even acknowledge that her question was in bad taste given her location and the context, and threatened to have my sister removed for abusive behaviour. I saw the nurse again later, complaining to a cashier in the cafe about

What Kills You In Vegas Kills You Everywhere
Hotel, Las Vegas, Nevada, Non-Dialogue, Patients, Stupid, Tourists/Travel, USA | Healthy | May 22, 2019
I work for a hotel in Las Vegas. While working security one night, I am sent up to a guest’s room who is having an allergic reaction. I arrive and the man is in a pretty bad way. He has his shirt off, his chest is covered with hives, and his throat is closing so fast he can’t speak and soon may not even be able to breathe.

I call for the paramedics and they arrive fairly quickly. They give the man a shot, and his allergy symptoms quickly begin to get better. When he can finally speak, one paramedic asks if the man is allergic to any kind of food. The man admits he’s severely allergic to shellfish. The paramedic then asks if the man has eaten any shellfish lately. The man then says, “I just came back from a seafood buffet and ate a lot of it because it doesn’t count when you’re in Vegas.”

So many people see the city slogan, “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” and think Las Vegas is some kind of negative zone where anything you do doesn’t affect real life.

Unable To Identify The Issue Is Not About Identity
Funny Names, Ignoring & Inattentive, Therapist, USA | Healthy | May 22, 2019
(I am at a therapist’s office for my first appointment with her. She is not my first therapist, so I have a fairly good idea of what to look for. My name has a very common nickname — I’ll pretend it’s Katelyn and Kate — and people will often start using the nickname without thinking. I am called back to meet with her.)

Therapist: “So, Katelyn, do you prefer Katelyn or Kate?”

Me: “I don’t care; either is fine.”

Therapist: “But which one do you prefer?”

Me: “I mean, when I’m in a situation where there’s someone whose actual name is Kate, I prefer to use Katelyn so people don’t get confused. But other than that, I really don’t care.”

Therapist: “Your name is an important part of your self-identity. I want to respect that. Which name do you want me to use?”

Me: *quite frustrated by now* “I don’t care! Either one is fine! You can call me Kate, you can call me Katelyn, or you can switch back and forth; it doesn’t matter!”

(She still didn’t get it. Somehow I made it through the rest of the appointment, but I never went back there. As a therapist, listening is a hugely important part of your job. If you won’t listen to me about something as simple as my name, I’m not going to trust you to listen to me at all.)

Painkillers Morphing Into Something Else
California, Hospital, Nurses, Stupid, USA | Healthy | May 21, 2019
(During an annual summer trip to California, I start having abdominal pains. My dad brings me to a local clinic, and from there I get directed to the ER because of possible appendicitis. Once there, they hook me up to an IV. I’m a little paranoid around needles, so I ask them what exactly they’re putting in the IV. I also happen to have a fear of inebriation, as well as a fear of being forcibly injected with addictive drugs.)

Nurse: “Saline fluids and some morphine.”

Me: “Morphine? Why morphine?”

Nurse: “You said you were in pain.”

Me: “I am, but I don’t think it’s extreme enough to justify morphine!”

Nurse: “Okay, we can take the morphine out. You’re sure you don’t need any painkillers?”

Me: “I mean, some painkillers would be nice, but not something that extreme.”

Nurse: “Well, we can give you the morphine if you want.”

Me: “No morphine!”

Nurse: “So, you don’t need painkillers?”

(This conversation repeats a few times before I eventually tell her I don’t need painkillers and let her hook me up to the saline fluids. Some time passes, and eventually, another nurse comes to check on me.)

Nurse #2 : “And have you had any painkillers?”

Me: “Well, they kept offering me morphine, but I didn’t want that. It seems a little extreme.”

Nurse #2 : “Wait, so, no one offered you any Tylenol?”

Me: “No!”

(The second nurse brought me some Tylenol, and that did seem to help, but I will forever be confused about the first nurse who seemed to think that morphine was the only painkiller in existence.)

Pregnant With An Angry Appendix
Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Lazy/Unhelpful, Missouri, Nurses, USA | Healthy | May 21, 2019
(I am 19 years old and I’ve been experiencing intense pain and vomiting bile all night. I go to urgent care and am diagnosed with appendicitis and given pain meds before being transported to the hospital around 11:00 am.)

ER Nurse: “We need to give you an MRI. Take this pregnancy test, and then we can figure out what’s going on.”

Mom: “She has already been diagnosed with appendicitis at urgent care; they called and we are here for treatment.”

ER Nurse: “Well, they can only diagnose, not treat, so we need you to take the tests.”

Mom: “She will not take the tests again. You need to look in your files and find the test results they sent over.”

(I ended up going into surgery at almost 10:00 pm after being in even worse pain all day, with no meds because I wasn’t in a room but in the waiting room. I was released at 9:00 am the next day, went septic that night, and spent another three days in the hospital. We later learned that my appendix had ruptured while I was waiting and they still sent me home.)

Let’s Hope His Brother Isn’t A Doctor
Doctor/Physician, Funny Names, Kansas, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | May 20, 2019
(My nana takes me to my doctor for the first time in a couple of years. The doctor is Indian, with an Indian accent and an Indian surname that starts with “Mu.”)

Nana: “Thank you, Dr. Mufasa! Oh…”

(Luckily, the doctor thought it was hilarious, and we joked that she must get that a lot from kids since she’s also a pediatrician.)

Bringing Professionalism To Its Knees
Australia, Bizarre, Editors' Choice, Health & Body, Medical Office, Patients, Queensland | Healthy | May 20, 2019
(I’m a young adult woman about to have my first gynaecological examination. I have no idea what I’m doing, so my doctor is walking me through it step by step. For reference, the examination table is quite narrow to allow for easy movement around it.)

Doctor: “We need you to lie back on the table with your feet at the end, and then spread your knees. Keep your feet together. Then cover yourself with the towel and let me know you’re ready.”

(She turns away to put on gloves, and I have a moment of doubt.)

Me: “Uh, how far apart do you want my knees?”

Doctor: “As far as you can.”

(I shrug and obey, following her instructions. A moment later, the doctor turns back around and I get to enjoy a moment of bug-eyed shock before professionalism covers it.)

Me: “I used to be a gymnast.”

Doctor: “Maybe not quite that far, [My Name].”

(I had dropped my knees below the level of the table with no effort or strain. Turned out she wanted something closer to a 90-degree angle. It did teach her to be more specific with instructions in the future, though!)

The Weighting Room
Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Illinois, Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, USA | Healthy | May 19, 2019
I was taking in my two-week-old baby for her checkup. My husband and older son were with me since we had another errand to run before heading home. My clinic had recently moved to a bigger location a few blocks away from their old location and had new equipment recently unpacked.

I gently placed my baby, born 7 lbs and 12 oz, on the scale. She left the hospital weighing 7 lbs 6 oz, which is normal since their weight fluctuates after birth. The scale showed 7 lbs 3 oz. My husband and I were baffled, since the baby was practically breastfed every hour and if she wasn’t sleeping she was eating. She was also way heavier than at birth.

The doctor began setting me up for weigh-in appointments with a nurse, while I began to panic and doubt about my breastfeeding capabilities.

My husband is a “fixer.” He can’t help it and is constantly fixing things at home or improving them, so, of course, he began fiddling with the baby scale when the doctor briefly left the room which, in addition to my panicked state, started to annoy me. That’s when he pulled out two pieces of foam from under the scale that were clearly part of the packaging from when it was moved from the other clinic. The doctor came back and was stunned. We weighed the baby again and she was 8 lbs, 6 oz. The doctor had a stunned look in his eyes as he checked us out, and I can just imagine the panic as he thought back to how many babies had been weighed on a scale that hadn’t been properly set up.

The Ugly Mouth Is The One With The Ugly Words
Dentist, Germany, Jerk | Healthy | May 18, 2019
(As a teenager I had braces that were – in some way – done incorrectly and over the course of the treatment the enamel of my teeth started to deteriorate. Since I was a quiet and shy teenager, I didn’t speak out and got in a somewhat vicious cycle of dental hygiene since properly cleaning my teeth started to hurt. After a while, I even stopped going to the dentist because I was so ashamed. However, in my twenties, I start seeing an amazing dentist who is very empathetic and doesn’t judge. Session by session, we start ironing things out, but for a very special procedure, he transfers me to a dental surgeon. This takes place at my first appointment before she even takes a look at my teeth.)

Dentist: “Hello, [My Name]. Nice to meet you! May I ask: how old are you?”

Me: “Hi… Um… I’m 24. Why?”

Dentist: “Yeah, I thought so. But from your x-rays, I’d guessed you would be 60.”

Me: *embarrassed* “Yeah, I know. But I try to contain the damage now.”

Dentist: “You’ve got to start cleaning your teeth better!”

Me: “I’m cleaning them at least twice a day now. If you take a look you’ll see. I really started taking dental hygiene very seriously and trying to save what can be saved. But the damage has been done. Still, I really clean my teeth.”

Dentist: “Don’t give me that spiel. I’ve seen how many fillings you have. You do a terrible job of keeping your teeth healthy.”

Me: *miserable* “Yes. I’m very sorry. I know.”

Dentist: “You know how ugly such teeth are, right? You’re 24. Probably looking for a nice girl to marry someday. But I’m gonna tell you right now: with those teeth, you’ll never find a girl!

Me: *on the verge of tears* “I’m really trying to take better care. [Dentist] always told me I’m really doing a good job now. I haven’t had a new cavity in two years.”

Dentist: “Well, I don’t care. Your mouth is ugly. And you’re probably gonna die alone with such bad mouth hygiene. Now, go make an appointment with my receptionist for next month so we can start making you look human again.”

(I didn’t want to object to her, but I didn’t make an appointment and even almost quit the ongoing procedures with my regular dentist. He had to talk to me for an hour until I was ready to keep going. He also said he wouldn’t transfer patients to this dental surgeon anymore.)

This Vet Is Worming His Way Around Your Cat
Bad Behavior, Canada, Doctor/Physician, Ontario, Vet | Healthy | May 17, 2019
(I set up an appointment for my cat to get his annual exam and vaccines at the vet clinic that my boyfriend and I have been taking him to since we first brought him home at three months old. He is now two-and-a-half years old, meaning with all his kitten appointments — booster shots, sterilization, etc. — we have taken him in a total of seven times prior to this. Up until this point, we have always seen the same vet, and our cat is very comfortable with her, often purring through his appointments. The day before the appointment, I get a phone call

Receptionist: “Hi, [My Name]! I’m calling to confirm [Cat]’s appointment for tomorrow at [time two-and-a-half hours later than the appointment was scheduled for].”

Me: “Um, I scheduled that appointment for [appointment time].”

Receptionist: “We don’t have any slots available at [time]. We can try to fit you in between appointments, but I can’t guarantee time for a full exam and vaccines.”

Me: “I scheduled this appointment weeks ago, even picking a later date, because [time] worked best with my boyfriend’s schedule and he’s the only one who drives. There’s no way you can give me the time my appointment was scheduled for?”

Receptionist: “I have it in my system that your appointment was scheduled for [two-and-a-half hours later].”

Me: “Whatever, I’ll take it, I guess. I want to stress though that I would never have picked an appointment that late; there’s no way this error was on my end.”

Receptionist: “Okay, well, don’t forget to bring in a fecal sample.”

Me: “Fecal sample? We’ve never had to bring a fecal sample before.”

Receptionist: “It’s a standard part of every annual physical.”

Me: “It’s not going to cost anything extra, is it? I just moved two weeks ago, and it cost more than I’d thought, so my money’s pretty tight for the rest of the month. I can’t afford to pay anymore than what I am for the physical and vaccines.”

Receptionist: “It’s a standard part of every physical; don’t worry.”

(Luckily, my boyfriend is able to move some things around so I don’t have to take the cat on the bus to get to the appointment. We get to the appointment and discover that the vet our cat has seen since his very first appointment is not the vet he will be seeing this time. The vet who examines our cat seems incredibly underqualified, and much more concerned about selling us products we do not need than about the health and wellbeing of our cat. It’s worth noting here that while he is technically a Domestic Short Hair, we’re reasonably certain our cat has some Bengal in him, due to his size. He measures around three feet long, which is double the average length for a DSH. After weighing our cat

Vet: “He weighs 15 pounds!”

Me: “Well, he is pretty big, so that’s not too surprising; that’s only a couple pounds more than I thought.”

Vet: “He needs to lose weight! He should be an eight-pound cat! What are you guys feeding him?!” *looking at boyfriend*

Boyfriend: “He lives with her, so she can answer that better than I can.”

Me: “Up until two weeks ago he was on [Brand] dry food, which I found gave him that little bit of pudge on his tummy, but he only gained about a pound or two. I would have changed his food, but my old roommate had a cat with a really sensitive stomach, and her cat couldn’t handle the food we had [Cat] on. When I moved I changed him to [Cetter Crand], and he’s been doing a lot better on it. He also gets one can of wet food each night, but we don’t have a strict brand for that; it’s just to make sure he gets enough water, since he’s pretty bad at drinking enough.”

Vet: “Do you free-feed him?”

Boyfriend: “Yeah, we always have.”

Me: “It’s monitored free-feeding, though, now. My old roommate like to truly free-feed, but I always make sure to track how much he’s eating. He always has food in his bowl, but I measure it and make sure he’s only getting two servings of dry food, and his one serving of wet food.”

Vet: “You need to stop free-feeding. He only needs three servings of food a day.”

Me: “As I said, I measure his food. He’s always been a grazer, though, so putting him on a feeding schedule won’t work, because he only eats a few bites at a time. It takes him anywhere from 8 to 12 hours to empty his bowl.”

Vet: “Well, it might be hard at first, but eventually he’ll learn that if he doesn’t eat when the food goes out, he won’t eat at all.”

Me: “No, I’m not doing that to my cat. He’s not that pudgy, and aside from that, I just adopted a second cat, and she also free-feeds. It’s working really well, considering she needs a smaller serving size, and quite frankly, they both undereat anyway.”

(The vet then spends another ten minutes scolding us for letting our cat get so “horrifically overweight,” and trying to sell us a specialty diet food that is way out of our price range. She finally gives up when my boyfriend and I start getting snappy with her.)

Vet: “Okay, how has [Cat]’s behaviour been lately?”

Me: “As I mentioned a few minutes ago, I just adopted a second cat three days ago, so right now they’re having their territory and dominance disputes. Before that, though, there was nothing out of the ordinary.”

Vet: *reaches into cupboard and pulls out a spray bottle* “You should try this; it’s a synthetic pheromone that mimics the one mother cats let off to calm down kittens. It can help with the fighting if the cats aren’t getting along.”

Me: “Thanks, but I’m not going to bother right now. I don’t really have the money for that, and it’s only been three days. When [Cat] was introduced to my old roommate’s cats, it took him about a week to adjust. If it goes on longer than that, then we’ll look into it.”

(The vet then spends another five minutes trying to pressure us into buying the spray, and implying that the two cats should be best friends by this point.)

Vet: “Have you had [Cat] treated for fleas?”

Me: “Yes! Because I was moving, and my old roommate was having someone take my room, who has her own cat, we treated all the cats in the apartment over the two weeks before I left. His last treatment was the day before I left, and that should have prevented him from getting anything during the move, as well.”

Vet: “You did just bring a new cat home, though. Was she treated?”

Me: “Yes, the shelter treated her shortly before we adopted her. I also looked her over a couple times to be sure.”

Vet: “Well, they should each be treated at least one more time before winter. I can do a course of [High-End Brand] treatment for [astronomically high price], if you want to set an appointment for that.”

Me: “No, thank you. They’re both indoor cats and only go outside on the leash occasionally in the summer. When they do, I give them a preventative OTC treatment from [Pet Store], and I check them to be safe. I also do a couple preventative treatments if they haven’t gone outside, just in case something makes it into the building, because he sometimes runs into the hallway.”

(Cue more selling pressure, and scolding. By the time that finishes, we are half an hour into the appointment, and the only part of the exam she’s done is weighing the cat. She finally starts the rest of the exam, and we notice right away that she isn’t handling our cat properly at all. She has made no effort to get him comfortable with her; instead she is flipping between being overly hesitant and grabbing him roughly. He starts to get defensive, trying to jump off the table, and even baring his teeth at her, which is incredibly out of character. He’s a very social, non-aggressive cat, usually. I try to comfort him.)

Vet: “Stay out of the way.” *shoos me back*

(The vet skips half his exam, refusing to go near his mouth or paws, and not offering us any information on his health. When the exam finishes and the vaccination is completed, it is time to pay for the visit. The total was much higher than we anticipated, even with estimating higher than last year’s physical and vaccination.)

Me: “Why is it so much?”

Receptionist: “That’s because the fecal sample is an additional charge.”

Me: “You mean the fecal sample I was told was ‘standard for an annual exam,’ and led to believe was included in the price? It’s only a few dollars less than the exam was!”

(At this point, our cat was angry, stressed, and trying to claw his way out of his carrier, so we swallowed our anger and paid in the interest of getting our cat home as quickly as possible. It took me 20 minutes to convince my boyfriend — who hadn’t been able to make any of the previous vet appointments — that that is not how they usually go, and that the old vet would have been done the exam in the time this one spend scolding us and trying to sell us things. It took an additional 20 minutes to calm our cat down. The fecal test results came back the next day and I was informed it was ringworm, then given information that contradicted that diagnosis. I took both of our cats to a different vet a few days later, and upon explaining to the new vet what happened, he was appalled. He took extra care to make sure both cats were comfortable, especially before going near their tummies. When he received the fecal test results from the first clinic, I was informed it was actually roundworm and had probably come from one of the other cats at the shelter. I had them treated immediately and confirmed with the veterinarian that had we treated them for the original diagnosis, it would have done nothing to help, as ringworm is a fungal infection, whereas roundworm is a parasite. Ultimately, it worked out for the best, because we found a vet who truly cares about the wellbeing of our cats. And the cats, for the record, are best friends now, no synthetic pheromone spray needed.)

Desperately Looking For A Positive
Bigotry, Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Medical Office, UK | Healthy | May 16, 2019
(I have gone to the GP with recurring dizziness. The doctor is new and we have never met prior to today. I am male.)

Doctor: *feeling the underneath of my jaw* “How long have you experienced dizziness?”

Me: “About three weeks. I think it might be an inner ear infection, but I don’t have any other symptoms.”

Doctor: “I see, and does it…”

(His eyes narrow onto my chest tattoo.)

Doctor: “You have tattoos?”

Me: “Just this one.”

Doctor: “Hmm, it’s possible this could be HIV and/or AIDS.”

Me: “WHAT?!”

Doctor: “It’s a pretty serious condition which can spread from infected needles.”

Me: “I know what it is. It just surprises me that you think dizziness and a tattoo would make you jump to HIV. This is a twenty-odd-year-old tattoo by the way.”

Doctor: “Hmm… Your medical history shows you have had STI tests before, and with your lifestyle—“

Me: “My ‘lifestyle’ has nothing to do with this, if I get your meaning.” *assumes he has seen my husband listed as my next of kin in my records* “And I have only had one STI test in my life, which was done as part of a sexual health class when I was at college. Now, HIV usually begins to show signs within ten years of contracting it. My tattoo is over twenty years old, and my STI test was what, ten years ago? I do not have HIV.”

(The doctor begrudgingly agreed with my defense and checked my ears. He found nothing and arranged a set of tests for me. I went to my appointment with my husband as I was a little shaken by the experience, and the first thing they asked us was if we had ever been sexually active with each other and how long I had suspected having HIV. The doctor decided to put me down for the test regardless of what I said. Once we explained the situation, the nurses apologised, but in the end, I agreed to take the test to learn more about it. My husband took it, too, to be a good sport. While stressful, it was a jovial experience. A week later, we both went to our GP to find out our results — mostly mine. We had the same doctor as I’d had the first time. It turns out I had a potassium deficiency which was causing my blood pressure to fluctuate while I was standing. Our HIV tests came back negative, but this didn’t stop the doctor belittling us and our “lifestyle” for a good ten minutes while going over the results. We complained about him and he was gone by my next visit. I later heard he was also judgemental with the minority population, and had submitted more requests for HIV testing than the rest of the practice combined.)