(Regrettably, our local university is the main reason that county STD rates are the second-highest in the state (the highest-ranking county is home to a naval base). Outbreaks are common and rather a grim joke with local healthcare providers. The county has purchased a new emergency radio system and one of their officers has arrived to train our staff on how to use the equipment.)
Instructor: “The great thing about this system is that it is linked to over two hundred towers, state-wide. This means that if you need to, you can communicate not only throughout the county, but with other jurisdictions as well. For example; let’s say you have to set up some kind of emergency clinic at the University for… I don’t know, what’s an epidemic that the students might experience there?”
Me: *without thinking* “Probably chlamydia.”
(My boss shushed me, but our director of nursing almost fell off her chair from laughing so hard.)
(I arrive at work an hour and a half early because I forgot what time I start. I decide to sit in the lobby and have lunch before my shift. I notice that the trash can is in dire need of being emptied and that the front counter is busier than usual. I start to tie the bag up, when a customer screeches at me.)
Customer: “What do you think you’re doing?”
Me: “Just changing the garbage, ma’am. It was full to overflowing and it was too busy for someone to leave their post and do it.”
Customer: “You don’t have to do that, young man! You’re not one of these dropouts that lives in their parent’s basements who can’t do anything better with their lives! What are you taking?”
Me: “I’m planning on becoming an licensed practical nurse. But, ma’am, I don’t just go to school. I work to pay my bills. As a matter of fact, I live in a condo my mother owns. She does not live with me, and I pay rent to her. I pay for my electricity, my Internet, and my heating. How do I earn the money for this, you ask?”
(At this point I remove my hat from my bag, put it on and remove my coat, revealing that I am dressed in my work uniform.)
Me: “I work here, taking whatever hours I can get. A student without anything on their resume will take any job they can. ”
(I point to one of my coworkers who is mopping the floors at the back of the store.)
Me: “She’s a neuroscience student. Just like me she has bills to pay. In the future, please remember that people who work in fast food are not always drop outs, but more often than not students trying to fund their education. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take out this trash, unless you would like me to help extract your foot from your mouth first.”
(Flustered and obviously embarrassed, the customer leaves the store in a hurry. My manager, who is also a classmate of mine, speaks with me once I return from the dumpsters.)
Manager: “Technically, you could be fired for badmouthing a customer while on the job like that.”
Me: “Technically, I’m not working right now! I haven’t clocked in, and my shift’s not for another half hour.”
Manager: “Well then, brave citizen, how does free apple pie sound?”
(I accepted, of course. You just don’t say no to free pie!)
(I am out to breakfast with some friends from work.)
Me: “Excuse me, do you know if the cook uses milk to make the omelets or just eggs?”
Waitress: “Just eggs. Are you allergic to milk?”
Me: “No, but I am lactose intolerant and I forgot to bring my meds.”
(We all order our food. However, after the waitress leaves, I overhear someone from the table next to us asking for a manager.)
Other Customer: *loudly* “I want to complain about that waitress. I heard her interrogating that poor woman about her personal medical issues! I’m a doctor and I know you can’t just ask people about things like that! It’s against the law! She could sue you!”
Me: *to the other customer* “Excuse me, before things get out of hand here, I’m the person she’s talking about. First of all, our waitress asked if I had an allergy to milk. It was a good question considering I made a point of asking if some of your foods have milk in it. If I was really allergic, the kitchen would have to take extra precautions to avoid anaphylaxis. Secondly, there’s no such law that I know of unless you’re talking about the laws in place to protect your private health information from being accessed by other people without your permission. I don’t see how those would apply in this case.”
Other Customer: “What the h*** are you talking about? What are you, some kind of lawyer, smarta**?”
My Friend: “No, ‘doctor,’ she’s some kind of nurse.”
(We all pulled out our hospital IDs. The “doctor” shut up after that. The manager thanked us for clearing things up and left, and our waitress gave us a free round of cheesecake with a free lactose-free muffin for me!)
Adorable Children, Medical Office, Nurse | Right | October 29, 2012
(My five-year-old son has received a serious injury to his eye. After a pediatrician recommends us to an eye doctor, we are referred to a specialist that works out of a university two hours away from home.)
Nurse: “These are all the contact numbers you should need. I also went online for some directions, and called ahead to let them know it should only be a few hours.”
Son: “I don’t want to.”
Nurse: “What’s the matter?”
Son: *visibly getting upset* “I’m scared.”
Nurse: “But you’ve been so brave this whole time! How about this: if you go see the new doctor, I’ll give you my phone number and you can call me if you get too upset, okay?”
(The nurse writes down her work extension and cell phone number on a piece of paper and adds it to my paperwork, insisting that I feel free to call if I have any problems or questions. My son stays calm all the way to the university and through the appointment with the specialist until we’re told he’s going to need surgery. Crying and upset, he begs me to call the nurse from the clinic.)
Me: *on the phone* “I’m so sorry to bother you, I know you’re still working, but he’s really upset and asked to talk to you.”
(I put the phone on speakerphone so my son, crying on the exam table, can hear.)
Nurse: “Hey, buddy! What’s wrong?”
Son: *crying* “The doctor here wants to give me surgery!”
Nurse: “There’s nothing wrong with that. It’ll make your eye all better. You’ll be able to see again, like we talked about.”
Son: “But I’m scared! It’s going to hurt!”
Nurse: “Of course it’s not going to hurt. That nice doctor wouldn’t hurt you!”
Son: “Have you been given surgeries?”
Nurse: “Yeah, kiddo, a few.”
Son: “And you came back to life?”
Nurse: “Every single time.”
Son: “Promise?”
Nurse: “Swear.”
(My son has calmed down considerably throughout the conversation, and there’s not a dry eye in the room.)
Son: “Okay…”
Nurse: “See? I knew you were brave.”
Son: “Thank you! Love you!”
Nurse: *laughing* “Love you, too.”
(I thanked the nurse a thousand times, and she insisted I call her ASAP to let her know how the surgery went. Later that day, she texted us a picture of herself and her family with a ‘GET WELL SOON’ sign they made for my son!)
Health & Body, Medical Office, Parents/Guardians, USA | Healthy | October 23, 2017
(My mother and I are out for lunch on my twentieth birthday. I’ve been wanting to get my navel pierced for a while, so when we pass a tattoo and piercing parlor I go in to check it out. It’s very clean and on the up and up, so Mom offers to pay for the piercing right then and there, and we get it done. Around this same time, I have to go in for an MRI on my right knee to see why it’s hurting so much lately. Mom and I are currently attending the same college, so I’m living at home to save money. Mom drives me to the appointment. She brings her homework and spreads it out all over the table and the surrounding seats, as there are a lot of seats and almost no people.)
Doctor: “[My Last Name]?”
Me: *jumping up* “Right here!”
(Mom begins to pack up her schoolwork.)
Me: *quickly* “Oh, no, that’s fine; you don’t need to come back! Just keep working on your project.”
Mom: *laughs* “I keep forgetting you’re an adult now.”
(I go back with the doctor and, all of a sudden, remember that I’m now pierced.)
Me: “Oh. Oh, jeeze.”
Doctor: “What?”
Me: “Well… see, I know the rules about MRIs and metal, but I just realized that I have a fresh piercing that I can’t take out yet… uh… this is going to be a problem, isn’t it?”
Doctor: “Not if we only scan your knee. May I see it?”
(I lift up my shirt to show him my piercing.)
Doctor: “Are you cleaning it?”
Me: “Twice a day with soap, water, and hydrogen peroxide.”
Doctor: *starts going through his desk* “We get a lot of kids with piercings that they don’t take care of and it can get real ugly, you know.”
Me: “Oh, I know. I got my ears done when I was six. And eight.”
(The doctor gives me a handful of individually wrapped sanitary wipes.)
Doctor: “Here, you can use these to keep the area clean.” *pause* “So, does your mother know about the piercing?”
Me: “What? Oh! Yes; yes, she does. She’s the one who got it for me. I only told her to stay because I didn’t want her to have to pack everything up, that’s all.”
(The doctor looks suspicious.)
Me: “Honest!”
(I change into the hospital gown and the procedure goes well. I get a little more lecturing about how to clean a piercing, and to always make sure to go to a reputable place that uses sterile equipment, before the doctor leads me out. When we’re both in the waiting room, I turn to Mom.)
Me: “Hey, Mom, tell the doctor who bought my navel piercing.”
Mom: “Um… I did?”
(The doctor laughed. Then believed me, and sent me home to await the results.)
England, Medical Office, Teenagers, UK | Healthy | October 23, 2017
(I have an itchy, raised lump on my leg, surrounded by a rash that is not getting better, so I go to see my doctor. I am 22.)
Doctor: “It looks to me like an allergy. I’ll give you these [Allergy Tablets] and if it is not better in a few days, come back.”
Me: “Don’t those tablets contain cetirizine dihydrochloride? I’m allergic to it.”
Doctor: “Don’t be ridiculous! Cetirizine dihydrochloride STOPS allergies. It’s impossible to be allergic to it!”
Me: “I was diagnosed by the allergy clinic at [Hospital]. It should be on my file? I know it sounds counter intuitive but I was tested for every ingredient in the tablets and that is the only one that came back positive. I can’t take it.”
Doctor: “You CANNOT be allergic to it. That isn’t physically possible.”
Me: “I took a hay fever tablet with cetirizine dihydrochloride in it and had a rash on my face and my neck. I was referred to the allergy clinic and they said that’s what caused it.”
Doctor: “I know you’re just trying to be special, but fine, I’ll look.”
(The doctor looks at my file and finds the letter saying I’m allergic to cetirizine dihydrochloride. He then prints and signs the prescription and gives it to me.)
Doctor: *leans right in to my face* “Just take the tablets and stop making such a fuss! You little girls, you stupid BABIES, and your little made up illnesses. Teenagers! Can’t do anything, the idiots. Get a grip and take the tablets. It is impossible to be allergic to the medication that stops allergies. Grow up and stop wasting my time!”
(I took the prescription as proof and reported what happened to the receptionist, who was very angry at the doctor. The doctor was reported to the GMC (General Medical Council). Another doctor treated my itchy leg without giving me cetirizine dihydrochloride. I was eventually diagnosed with a bee-sting allergy.)
home, Illinois, Inspirational, Pets & Animals, USA | Healthy Related | September 18, 2017
One of my friends works for the local vet’s office. It’s a small town with no animal shelter, so if strays are found, the vet will usually take them for a few days until they can find the owner, or place them in a home. My friend knew we’d lost our dog a few months before, and called me up one day to say that they’d just been brought a litter of stray puppies that they needed to find homes for, and if my family wanted one, she’d bring one over that night.
My family talked it over, and even though we weren’t really ready to move on from our other dog’s death, we knew the vet’s office would have trouble finding homes for a full litter of puppies and didn’t have the room to take care of them, and decided it was better for us to take one. So, that night, my friend brought over a tiny golden retriever puppy.
She’d warned us that the puppies they’d found were too young to be away from the mother, which is part of why they were so worried about being able to find good homes for them, but we hadn’t realized just how young they were until she showed up. We fed and cleaned the puppy and made a bed for her where she’d be warm, but the poor thing was clearly stressed out, and started crying as soon as we walked away. We were worried that we’d have to stay up with her all night, when our rather elderly male cats, who’d been very curious about the new arrival, decided to step in.
After sniffing her and touching noses, both of our cats decided that this tiny little thing was probably some kind of strange kitten, and it was their job to take care of her. They curled up on either side of her and started grooming her, and the puppy immediately stopped crying, and snuggled in. My dad had set an alarm to remind him to get up and feed her, but shortly before the alarm went off, one of the cats came and woke him up. For the week or so after that, the cats continued to let us know when the puppy needed to be fed or taken outside, until she was old enough to eat solid food and let us know herself.
As the puppy grew up, the cats continued to take care of her. They taught her how to go up and down stairs, how to find the best spots to nap in the sun, that she should stay away from the road, to come when the humans called her, how to groom herself, and where the treats were kept. The puppy never did get the hang of climbing trees, but she’s surprisingly adept at stalking mice and chipmunks!
The cats were a bonded pair, and they died within a few months of each other when the puppy was three. A few years later, she found our kitten, and happily carried on what her foster parents had started, cuddling and comforting the new arrival and teaching her all the important things. So, our dog thinks she’s a cat. Our cat thinks she’s a dog. Our animals may be a little confused, but they all get along beautifully, and no one seems to mind when the new kitten plays fetch!
Adorable Children, Australia, Awesome Workers, Health & Body, Inspirational, Melbourne, Photography Studio, Victoria | Healthy Related Right | August 15, 2017
(I am a photographer running a studio in the inner city. We are well known for our children’s portraits, and we range from high-end portraits for modelling jobs to fun sibling photos and birth announcements. We do a bit of everything; as such, we are extremely busy, and it states on our website that we do not accept walk-ins. We are usually booked up six months in advance. One day, ten minutes before closing, a mum walks in with a young girl around six or seven behind her. I internally groan.)
Mother: “Hello. I know you’re closing soon, but I have a special favour to ask.”
(At this point the little girl peeks around her mother’s legs and I’m lost for words. Under her thick winter coat and hat, she is skeletally thin with huge dark circles under her eyes. From what I can tell, she has no hair, and a tube taped to her cheek that feeds into her nose. It is immediately clear this kid is very, very sick.)
Mother: *near tears* “My daughter saw one of your photos taped to the wall at the hospital. She REALLY loves unicorns and the photo had a girl photo-shopped onto a horse. I know you’re booked up, and it’s months before the next appointment, but…”
(At this point she actually starts crying. I realise that our next available appointment is probably way too far away for this particular kid. The little girl squeezes her mother’s hand. I am a very big dude, covered in tattoos and a beard, but I’m not ashamed to say I needed a minute before I spoke.)
Me: “Aww, that’s just for regular customers! I’ve been waiting all day to take a photo of someone as beautiful as you! What’s your name, sweetheart?”
(I lock the front door and spend the next three hours taking photos of this kid in every princess costume I have in my closet. She is the sweetest, most well-behaved kid I have ever worked with. Once we’re done she curls up on the couch in my office and falls asleep while I load up the photos for her mum to see and choose the ones she likes best, and ask her what kind of retouching she’d like done. She’s adamant that I leave her daughter as is — apparently the little girl has been worried for the past month that she is no longer “pretty.”)
Me: “All right, so we’ve settled on these. I can have them edited and all finished in two days. If you give me your email I can send you the link to the website and the password to download them when they’re ready.”
(The mother thanks me over and over and comes up front, carrying her sleeping daughter, and holds out her credit card.)
Me: “Nope. No way.”
Mother: “Please, I insist. You stayed open so late and your shoots are listed for [amount] online. Please at least charge me that.
Me: “Absolutely not. I am not taking money for this. No way in h***.”
(A few days later I send the link through and hear nothing. I see she’s downloaded the photos and I think nothing of it, hoping my sweet little friend loved her photos. Almost six months later I’m once again closing up when a very familiar face pops up at my window, grinning and waving frantically.)
Me: *throwing open the door* “Hey, you!”
Little Girl: “Hi! I’m better! Look, I’m better!”
(Sure enough, she’d put on some weight, was flushed and pink, and had a fine fuzz of hair over her head. Her mother was a few steps behind her, grinning. She once again tried to force an envelope full of money into my hand, and again I refused. She got frustrated and eventually in her exasperation said, “at least let us take you to dinner!” which I happily accepted. Seven years later that photo of a sick little girl astride a giant pink unicorn is in a frame in my lounge room. My now-step-daughter groans every time I point it out to the friends she brings home!)
Adorable Children, Australia, Awesome Workers, Health & Body, Inspirational, Melbourne, Photography Studio, Victoria | Healthy Related Right | August 15, 2017
(I am a photographer running a studio in the inner city. We are well known for our children’s portraits, and we range from high-end portraits for modelling jobs to fun sibling photos and birth announcements. We do a bit of everything; as such, we are extremely busy, and it states on our website that we do not accept walk-ins. We are usually booked up six months in advance. One day, ten minutes before closing, a mum walks in with a young girl around six or seven behind her. I internally groan.)
Mother: “Hello. I know you’re closing soon, but I have a special favour to ask.”
(At this point the little girl peeks around her mother’s legs and I’m lost for words. Under her thick winter coat and hat, she is skeletally thin with huge dark circles under her eyes. From what I can tell, she has no hair, and a tube taped to her cheek that feeds into her nose. It is immediately clear this kid is very, very sick.)
Mother: *near tears* “My daughter saw one of your photos taped to the wall at the hospital. She REALLY loves unicorns and the photo had a girl photo-shopped onto a horse. I know you’re booked up, and it’s months before the next appointment, but…”
(At this point she actually starts crying. I realise that our next available appointment is probably way too far away for this particular kid. The little girl squeezes her mother’s hand. I am a very big dude, covered in tattoos and a beard, but I’m not ashamed to say I needed a minute before I spoke.)
Me: “Aww, that’s just for regular customers! I’ve been waiting all day to take a photo of someone as beautiful as you! What’s your name, sweetheart?”
(I lock the front door and spend the next three hours taking photos of this kid in every princess costume I have in my closet. She is the sweetest, most well-behaved kid I have ever worked with. Once we’re done she curls up on the couch in my office and falls asleep while I load up the photos for her mum to see and choose the ones she likes best, and ask her what kind of retouching she’d like done. She’s adamant that I leave her daughter as is — apparently the little girl has been worried for the past month that she is no longer “pretty.”)
Me: “All right, so we’ve settled on these. I can have them edited and all finished in two days. If you give me your email I can send you the link to the website and the password to download them when they’re ready.”
(The mother thanks me over and over and comes up front, carrying her sleeping daughter, and holds out her credit card.)
Me: “Nope. No way.”
Mother: “Please, I insist. You stayed open so late and your shoots are listed for [amount] online. Please at least charge me that.
Me: “Absolutely not. I am not taking money for this. No way in h***.”
(A few days later I send the link through and hear nothing. I see she’s downloaded the photos and I think nothing of it, hoping my sweet little friend loved her photos. Almost six months later I’m once again closing up when a very familiar face pops up at my window, grinning and waving frantically.)
Me: *throwing open the door* “Hey, you!”
Little Girl: “Hi! I’m better! Look, I’m better!”
(Sure enough, she’d put on some weight, was flushed and pink, and had a fine fuzz of hair over her head. Her mother was a few steps behind her, grinning. She once again tried to force an envelope full of money into my hand, and again I refused. She got frustrated and eventually in her exasperation said, “at least let us take you to dinner!” which I happily accepted. Seven years later that photo of a sick little girl astride a giant pink unicorn is in a frame in my lounge room. My now-step-daughter groans every time I point it out to the friends she brings home!)
Bad Behavior, Canada, Employees, Health & Body, Hospital | Healthy | June 25, 2017
(I got a hysterectomy because I hate my period and never want to have children. When I wake up from the anaesthetic, there’s a nurse standing over my bed.)
Nurse: “Don’t you ever want kids?”
(That was literally the first thing she said. I thought of so many responses later, but at the time I was too stunned and groggy to say anything. Also: period-free life is awesome. 10/10 highly recommend.)
Family & Kids, Health & Body, Inspirational | Healthy Working | April 27, 2017
I work at a large mine in an isolated area. As a member of our Technical Rescue Team, I have been called many times to assist the local sheriff’s Search and Rescue.
One day in late May, when wildfires less than 20 miles away are suffusing the air with smoke, we receive a page to proceed to a canyon near the state line. This canyon has a highway carved into a steep rock wall, with the debris pushed down into the chasm. In the past, our team had been called to the area to remove the remains of drivers who crashed through the guardrails, so we are ready for the worst.
When we arrive, the SO officers tell us a father and his three sons have “hiked” to the bottom of the canyon and are stranded. They actually scrambled down approximately 600 feet of broken rock, and then found that climbing back up was impossible. It is after 5:00 pm when we arrive.
By the time we manage to get rescuers to the bottom and formulate an extraction plan, darkness has set in. I am the first down, making contact and bringing water and flashlights. Other team members follow close behind, and we move the group (father with sons 6, 7, and 9 years old) to the raise point. One of the team members brought a backpack with sandwiches, granola bars, and water. The boys agree to wait for the sandwiches until we reach the top and gobble up the granola bars (I’ll admit, the one I had was the best ever).
The trip back up the fractured rock pile takes nearly two hours, most of the time at least partially suspended on the main-line rope. There are several small incidents (lost cell phones and tennis shoes, rolling rocks, etc.) on the way up, but topping out and disconnecting was one of the best feelings I’ve ever had. The family is rushed to a waiting ambulance for evaluation, and my team leader and incident commander examine the other rescuers and me carefully before allowing us to stow our gear and get ready to leave.
I remembered that I had the sunglasses of one of the children in my pack, so I went to the back of the ambulance and opened the door to return them. That’s when the youngest asked, in one of the smallest, most plaintive voices I’ve ever heard, “But what about our sandwiches?”
When we drove away into the dawn, the father and three boys were standing in front of the ambulance eating sandwiches.
Awesome, Employees, Health & Body, Inspirational | Healthy Working | March 25, 2017
The hospital I work for lets patients leave comments about something good that happened to them during their stay. Once a month, the best stories are picked and shared with everyone. This story really stuck with me.
A patient who was doing an extended stay at the hospital came running out of her room in tears, screaming for help. [Nurse #1] happened to be nearby and ran to the patient’s side checking for injuries; she seems to be okay, but she is begging the nurse for help. The patient explains that she’s just gotten off the phone with her sister and it is her sister that needs help. Her sister had been having a rough go at life recently and could no longer take it; she had called to say goodbye. [Nurse #1] immediately calls for another nurse for help as she helps the patient back her her room. She briefly explains the situation to the second nurse who pulls out his phone and dials 911 as the patient attempt to get her sister back on the line.
For the next 20-30 minutes the two nurses never leave the patient’s side. [Nurse #1] is keeping a close look at the patient’s health while giving her suggestions on things to say to keep her sister on the line, as it would mean more coming from a loved one rather than a stranger. Meanwhile, [Nurse #2] is on the phone covertly getting the sister’s information from the patient and passing it along to the dispatcher.
Unfortunately, it seems that the sister catches on and swallows a handful of pills before hanging up the phone… mere minutes before the paramedics pull into her drive. Since [Nurse #2] is still on the phone with dispatch, he is able to convey to them exactly what had happened inside the house — they even know what kind of pills she’d taken! The paramedics rush the sister to the emergency room where they are able to save her life. The paramedics and dispatch are in constant contact with [Nurse #2], relaying information through him to our patient, up until the point when the sister is admitted.
The nurses went above and beyond for the patient. They could have simply called 911 and reported the situation, but they stayed by the patient’s side and treated her sister, who lives in a completely different city. A huge thank you also has to go out to the paramedics and 911 dispatcher who kept the patient informed through the entire ordeal.
I am happy to report that at the time of me writing this, both sisters are doing well.
(I was in the car driving when this came on the radio. A cat had been shot repeatedly in the head by someone with an airsoft gun and had been brought into a veterinary clinic. The cat had no owner that the clinic knew of, and they were using a very popular radio station to advertise the cat’s plight and raise money to try and save it. They needed a grand total of £4,000 as the clinic has decided to foot half the bill. People call up to donate, or go into the clinic, and it’s very quick that they managed to get £500 when this call comes through.)
Host: “You’re through to [Radio Channel]; can I take your name?”
Caller: “I don’t want to give it. I want to donate, though.”
Host: “Okay, that’s great! How much do you want to donate?”
Caller: “I want to pay £7,500.”
(The host and vet representative are clearly shocked, and explain how much they’re looking for because of the split.)
Caller: “I understand that, but I don’t want the clinic to do that. It’s a nice thing to do, but they have other animals to save and I don’t want them to suffer with this. I don’t have children. I lost my husband. I don’t have to worry about overheads but I have a LOT of money. I want to pay for the entirety of the cat’s surgery. And, if no-one claims that poor cat, I’d like to give that cat a home.”
(It moved the host, the representative, me, and I’m sure a lot more listeners to tears. We later found out that the lady who donated did take the cat, and she calls up now and then to keep them posted on how he’s doing.)
Hall of Fame, Health & Body, Inspirational, Language & Words, Popular | Healthy Right | May 19, 2016
(My family is 100% German, and came to the US around 1900. Shortly after WW II ended, my grandma, who was working on getting her nursing certification, decided to volunteer at an aid center for recently arrived Holocaust survivors. My grandma was born in Chicago, and English was and is her first language, but she spoke German because her parents and grandparents spoke it, and had a slight accent. She’d been bullied about it all through the war, and was worried it’d be the same at the center, but decided to volunteer anyway. Sure enough, some of the other nurses started making snide comments, until one of the patients, a woman in a wheelchair, beckoned her over.)
Patient: *in halting English* “You… German?”
Grandma: “No.”
Patient: *disappointed* “You no speak German?”
Grandma: *in German* “Ja. I speak German. My parents are from Germany.”
Patient: *in German* “Oh, thank the Lord! English is such a hard language, and everyone here is so brusque, and there are no trees anywhere! I miss the mountains! What part of Germany are your parents from? Do they miss it? Have you ever been?”
(As soon as they found out my grandma spoke German, all of the other survivors came right over and started chatting away, completely dumbfounding the rest of the nurses! To my grandma’s relief, none of them held it against her that her family was German; most of them just wanted to talk about their homes and families, and were relieved to find someone who spoke their language. It wasn’t long before some of the other nurses and the aid center director asked her for help learning German themselves!)
Health & Body, Inspirational, Popular | Healthy | May 17, 2016
(After avoiding any kind of surgery for the 35 years of my life I end up in the ER on Monday with appendicitis. I am very, very scared because of the aforementioned lack of surgeries. One of my roommates comes with me and intends to stay with me all night.)
Nurse: “We like people to go home and not stay here all night. It’s not comfortable.”
Roommate: “That’s okay. I want to stay.”
Nurse: “Well, in a shared room you have to get the permission of the person in the other room.”
Roommate: “Well, then, ask them. I want to stay.”
Other Person: “Let her stay! If I had someone here with me I’d want them to stay.”
(I was so out of it, and so scared, but the other person, also there with appendicitis, was so kind to let my roommate stay with me and it helped a lot. My roommate literally held my hand all night so every time I woke up I could feel it. If she hadn’t been there I think I’d have been inconsolable. I’m healing fine, and the other person in my room was able to go home without needing surgery at all!)
Awesome, Health & Body, Inspirational, Kind Strangers, Popular | Healthy | May 17, 2016
(My family is visiting my grandma, and we like renting bicycles to ride around the gated community where she lives. My mom and two younger siblings are just on our way back to the house. It’s a very hot day and I’m wearing a dark shirt.)
Me: “Hold up a minute. I feel woozy.”
(I pull onto the grass and sit down, panting, as my vision swirls with purple-green clouds. Usually they clear in a few moments, but they’re not going away. I can’t get back on the bike until I can see, so Mom is about to send my brother on ahead to bring Dad back with the car, when a car pulls up next to us.)
Little Old Lady: “Do you need help?”
(I’m a little fuzzy on the details after that point, but it turned out that she was a retired nurse! She offered to drive me back to Grandma’s house. I was doing a little better in the air-conditioned car, but I was still woozy and she talked to me to keep me awake. When we got to the house, I had to lean on her shoulder to get inside; my dad told me later that he thought I was helping her at first! She helped me into a reclining chair and got a cool, damp washcloth to put on my forehead before she left, with instructions to drink lots of water and not move for a while. She left before I could thank her, but I sent a thank-you note when I was better. Even after they retire, nurses are awesome people!)
(During first full week of Advanced Placement and IB tests of my junior year in high school I find myself struck with a particularly nasty illness called norovirus, which causes nearly non-stop vomiting and diarrhea. I am home alone, as my father is out the whole week for business, and I am taking the bus to and from school for exams. Since I knew I cannot miss any of these tests on such short notice, I manage to tough it out for four days, but at that point I have not been able to eat or drink anything that remains in my stomach for more than five minutes. Severely dehydrated and weak, I finally decide to go to a close-by clinic for IV fluids after school. Since they need a doctor on-site to legally be able to give fluids, I call ahead.)
Nurse: “Hello, [Clinic]. This is [Nurse]. How may I help you?”
Me: *very quietly as my throat has started to develop acid sores* “Hi… Do you have the… Do you do IV fluids?”
Nurse: “What’s that, sweetie? I didn’t quite catch that.”
Me: “I need IV fluids… I really need them.”
Nurse: “Unfortunately we don’t have a doctor with us right now, hun.” *I start crying, since at this point I’m worried I will not be able to get out of bed tomorrow for my next exam* “Sweetie, what’s the matter? Are you hurt?”
Me: “No… I think I got norovirus from that restaurant that was shut down last week and I’m home alone and I have my AP tests that I can’t miss and I haven’t been able to eat or drink anything for days and I’m getting too weak to do anything! I can’t go to the ER because my dad didn’t leave me enough money to cover anything and I really need to go to my exam tomorrow!”
Nurse: “All right, sweetie, give me one second.” *the line is silent for about five minutes* “Okay, hun, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to go out to you and pick you up, then we’re going to go to the [Clinic] downtown and get you your fluids. After that I’ll take you home and you give me your exam schedule. Is tomorrow your last day for exams until next week?”
Me: *shocked at her kindness* “Yes, ma’am.”
Nurse: “All righty. Then I’ll take you to your exam tomorrow morning and then we do need to check you into the hospital, all right, sweetie? Give me your address and I’ll be there in a few minutes. Call your dad and tell him what is going on, okay?”
(This nurse had negotiated with her supervisor to get the next two days off work so she could make sure I was taken care of and safe. After my exam the next day she picked me up and took me to the hospital, used a few personal favors to get me in quickly and hold off on payment, and stayed with me until my father could get there. We have since become good friends, and I am currently working on my own MD while volunteering at her clinic. This woman is why nurses really should rule the world!)
(I am pregnant and suffering from toxaemia, which is a form of blood poisoning. My blood pressure is extremely high and I have been admitted to hospital. I have been there for two weeks when my blood pressure goes even higher.)
Matron: “You have been scheduled for an emergency induction tomorrow morning; we can’t leave you like this for any longer.”
(Very early the next morning, she comes in and starts the preparation for the induction when a doctor comes in.)
Doctor: “[Matron], I need you to stop what you are doing. I need to speak to the patient. Please leave us alone.”
Matron: “Yes, doctor.” *leaves*
Doctor: *to me* “We are postponing your induction.”
Me: “But I’ve been told I have to have it.”
Doctor: “We’ve decided not to do it right now. It doesn’t really matter, seeing as this is elective.” *meaning I chose to have it done*
(He says nothing to reassure me and leaves. Later one of the nurses comes by.)
Nurse: “[My Name], what are you still doing here? I was sure you would have had your baby by now.”
Me: “Dr [Doctor] told me that it wasn’t being done, and told me it was elective.”
Nurse: “He said what? Did you elect to get pre-eclampsia? I’ll go and see what’s going on.”
(A few minutes later she is back.)
Nurse: “I found out why they postponed you. We only have four birthing rooms and there are a dozen screaming women down there waiting to get into them. You were considered stable enough to wait one more day”.
Awesome Workers, Health & Body, Medical Office, Nurse | Working | December 9, 2013
(I’ve been sick this past week and I go to the clinic at nine am. They tell me they will call in the prescription at ten am. At two pm, I go to check the prescription.)
Pharmacist: “I have no prescription here under your name.”
Me: “The clinic said it would be ready by ten am. Let me call them.”
(I call the clinic.)
Me: “Hello. I have a prescription that hasn’t been put through yet. I need to make sure I am at the right pharmacy.”
(I am promptly transferred without a word to the women’s clinic line, which is the incorrect department. I am instructed to leave a message, as the nurses are out to lunch.)
Me: “Um, hi. I am [My Name]. I was just wondering where my prescription was sent. It’s not at the pharmacy and—” *I cough and my head immediately begins to ache terribly. I sniffle and tear up* “—if you could please help me that’d be nice.”
(I hang up and go home. At three pm I go to the clinic to verify the location of the pharmacy. They tell me the order has been sent, and to wait a couple hours. I go home yet again. At five pm I get a call from the women’s clinic number at which I left the message.)
Nurse: “Hello, is this [My Name]? You left a message a couple hours ago.”
Me: “Yes. I’m sorry, I was trying to find out where my prescription was. I already checked back with the clinic and they told me where the prescription would be.”
Nurse: “Everything’s all right, though? This is the wrong department for your call, but since you’ve had the prescription filled…”
Me: “Well… no… I called the pharmacy and the prescription still hasn’t been ordered yet.”
Nurse: “Oh. Let me get on that. I’ll make sure they get it filled out.”
Me: “Okay.”
Nurse: “I will call you back in a minute, sweetie.”
(The nurse hangs up and calls back a few minutes later.)
Nurse: “Okay, I’ve gotten them to fill out your prescription and the pharmacy should have it soon. You are taking [Medicine], which is two pills twice a day. No matter how bad it is, take all of them. You can take decongestants and ibuprofen to deal with the congestion and pain. And, honey, popsicles are your best friends. Drink lots of fluids and warm tea, and get plenty of rest.”
(At this point, the nurse’s concern has caused me to tear up.)
Me: “Thank you so much! I’ve been dealing with this for a week.”
Nurse: “You just sound so sick, sweetie. I called the pharmacy and told them to work extra quick on your order. The pharmacist’s name is [Name]. She’ll have your prescription ready as soon as she can.”
Me: “Thank you.”
Nurse: “You feel better, honey.”
(To that nurse: You had me sobbing. You cared so much and it wasn’t even your department. You helped me and told me more about my medicine than the doctor in the CORRECT department did. I’m so grateful there are people as nice as you working in the women’s clinic!)
Bullies, Hospital, Nurse, Parents/Guardians, Wild & Unruly | Right | August 13, 2013
(I’m 18, and have been hospitalized for a severe case of mono. As a result of the illness, my throat is badly swollen and I can hardly speak. I’m on lots of painkillers. I’m sharing a room with a boy who swallowed a rock. The boy has been screaming since his mother left and his father can’t quiet him down.)
Nurse: “Okay, [My Name], I’m just going to check your vitals.”
Me: *whispering* “How much longer until I can have more pain medication?”
Nurse: “Not for a while, sweetie.”
(The nurse leaves. The boy’s father has been watching us the whole time.)
Boy’s Father: “Listen, you little b****! Don’t you f****** gossip about me to the f****** nurses! You keep your f****** mouth shut, or I’ll shut it for you!”
(I’m stunned, as I haven’t said a word to or about him. As I can’t move and can barely speak, I’m in tears and terrified. Not long after, my mom comes in to visit.)
Mom: “Hey, [My Name]. How are you doing?”
Me: *crying and whispering* “Mom, the dad of that boy screamed at me. He said to shut up, or he’d shut me up.”
(My mom is silent, but clearly fuming. She leaves for a moment.)
Boy’s Father: “WHAT DID I SAY?!”
(Just then, my mom comes back with security in tow.)
Mom: “Escort him from hospital grounds NOW.”
Boy’s Father: “B****! You can’t tell me what to do! You aren’t the boss here! I’m twenty-f******-five!”
Mom: “Actually, I AM the boss here! It’s my day off, but I’m head nurse on this floor, and if you EVER speak to my daughter ever again, I will have you arrested so fast that you won’t ever hear the sirens! And by the way, I’m forty-freaking-eight and I have the good sense not to let my kids eat rocks!”
(The man was removed from hospital grounds and was banned from re-entering for 48 hours unless it was an emergency. I have the best mom in the world.)
(My mother takes my younger brother and me out to a restaurant for dinner. As we are eating we witness a car crash in the road. My mother, being an LPN (licensed practical nurse), leaves her meal to rush across the street to offer help. We are seated by an elderly couple right next to a window.)
Elderly Man: “Did your mom just go out there to help them?”
Me: “Oh, well, she’s a nurse. Pretty much anytime an accident occurs and she’s there, she tries to help.”
Restaurant Proprietor: “That’s your mother out there?”
Little Brother: “Yeah. Our mom’s a nurse, so she went to help out.”
Restaurant Proprietor: “Wow! How cool!”
(My mother spends the next 30 minutes out in the middle of traffic, helping both drivers with their injuries, and waiting until EMTs arrive. She comes back in, and we resume our meal like nothing has happened.)
Elderly Woman: “Are they okay?”
Mom: “Yeah, but the poor girl — her parents are out of town. She has to wait in the hospital for them to come and see her. She pulled out, and that guy pulled out in front of her and rammed her car.”
Elderly Woman: “Well, at least they’re okay.”
(Another 20 minutes pass while my mother finishes her meal and the check is brought out to us. As the proprietor from earlier leaves the check, the couple next to us get up to leave.)
Elderly Man: “Let me tell you something…”
(He quickly snatches the check off of our table.)
Elderly Man: “If I were in an accident like that and needed help, I would want you to come and help me. Anyone who selflessly dodges traffic to help someone like that deserves to have their meal paid for. I hope that if one day I’m in an accident I have you there for me.”
(Despite my mother’s protests, the man pays the bill without even glancing at the total. When we go to the front to explain ourselves, the cashier isn’t surprised.)
Cashier: “Oh, that’s Bill. He’s a regular here. I’m not surprised he did that. He’s a real sweetheart. He was actually on his first date with that girl!”
(If you ever read this, Bill, you moved my mom to tears that day. You have forever made me want to be a better person! It’s people like you that re-instill my hope in humanity.)
Diễn Đàn Người Việt Hải Ngoại. Tự do ngôn luận, an toàn và uy tín. V́ một tương lai tươi đẹp cho các thế hệ Việt Nam hăy ghé thăm chúng tôi, hăy tâm sự với chúng tôi mỗi ngày, mỗi giờ và mỗi giây phút có thể. VietBF.Com Xin cám ơn các bạn, chúc tất cả các bạn vui vẻ và gặp nhiều may mắn.
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