During my freshman year in high school, my science teacher assigned us to interview people in the community about how they use science in their careers. Although I don’t remember most of the people I spoke with, I can tell you that I spent meaningful time with a local community pharmacist who changed my life.
What I saw was a man who loved his career and truly cared for his patients. In an instant, I knew that I wanted to become a pharmacist, and I never wavered from that goal throughout high school.
Knowing what you want to be when you grow up at age 14 is unusual, but it is very liberating. I simply had to work backwards to figure out how to achieve my goal of becoming a pharmacist.
After high school, I chose to attend Ohio Northern University (ONU) because it had a unique pharmacy program. Rather than attending college for 2 years and then applying to the pharmacy program, ONU students were admitted to the College of Pharmacy from day one.
Although it was expensive, being in pharmacy school from day one and avoiding the risk of rejection made it worthwhile for me.
In college, I spent a lot of time in the library. Although the classwork was difficult, I did well with one exception: organic chemistry.
I did fail organic chemistry—a notorious “weed out” course—but I successfully retook the class over the summer and graduated on time with the rest of my classmates. Failing a course is a difficult stumbling block, but I stood strong and persevered.
Today, I’m thankful for the wonderful pharmacy profession for so many reasons.
First, I’m thankful that community pharmacists are the health care professionals most accessible to the public. If my local pharmacist wasn’t accessible to me, then I likely would have taken a different career path.
Second, I’m proud of the work we pharmacists do, the diversity of our career options, and the relationships we share with our patients and fellow health care providers.
Pharmacy is a profession that makes a real difference in people’s lives. It certainly has made all the difference in mine.
Bad Behavior, Doctor/Physician, Georgia, Hospital, USA, Wild & Unruly | Healthy | April 25, 2019
(My first experience with a migraine is not a fun one. I lay in bed for two days and nothing works. I am ten at the time. My mom decides to take me to the ER to get stronger medicines since I am missing school and crying any time I am awake. After waiting for an hour, I am taken back and they begin prepping for medicine.)
Doctor: “All right. I’m going to give you a shot to help your head.”
Me: “W-what? I didn’t…”
(I start crying again due to a fear of needles while my mom comforts me. The doctor preps the shot.)
Doctor: “All right. Going to count to three and then we’ll stick you. One… Two…”
(He then jabs the needle in. I scream and jerk away because I wasn’t prepared, causing blood to get all over my arm.)
Doctor: “What the h*** was that for?! You’re ten! Grow up!”
Mom: “And you stabbed my child! You said, ‘On three’!”
Doctor: “Well, if he wasn’t such a brat—“
(A nurse comes in at that moment and sees me crying with blood all over my arm, my mom cornering the doctor, and the doctor with the needle still in his hand. The doctor shoves my mom away and all but slams the needle into the nurse’s hand.)
Doctor: “You take care of this spoiled brat!”
(The nurse patched me up and waited until three to stick me. It took a few tries, but we finally got the medicine. Once it took effect, I don’t remember anything, but, from what I heard, the doctor was fired because he was too rough with patients. One even almost died because of him.)
Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, Nurses, USA | Healthy | April 24, 2019
(My adult daughter has multiple medical issues, including vasovagal syncope — she faints — triggered by several things, including vomiting and even small blood draws. I am with her for support and as her driver in case of problems when she goes to get a routine blood draw that requires multiple vials. Due to insurance issues, she is going to an unfamiliar lab and has called in advance to verify that there is a bed available for her to lie down for the draw, as it’s the only way to prevent an event. She is called by the phlebotomist.)
Phlebotomist: “Please have a seat here in this chair and we’ll get started.”
Daughter: “I need to lie down or I’ll faint. I was told you had a bed available?”
Phlebotomist: “Oh, was that you who called? Please just sit down. I draw blood every day, all day, and I’ve never heard of such a problem.”
(It’s actually fairly common.)
Daughter: “I have vasovagal syncope triggered by having my blood drawn. I’d rather lie down so I don’t end up on the floor.”
Phlebotomist: “There isn’t a bed available. Now, you’re holding up the process as there are several others also waiting to have their blood drawn. We’ll just have to deal with it if it happens, which I know for a fact it won’t. I’m very good at my job.”
Daughter: “I’d rather wait for a bed. How long will it be?”
Phlebotomist: “We don’t have any beds in the lab. We’d have to go to the doctor’s office next door, and I’m not going to do that. These chairs recline a bit; I’ll put it back and you’ll be fine. Now, are you going to get the blood drawn or not?”
Daughter: *not wanting to make a scene and needing to have the procedure completed* “Okay, but I warned you; you can’t say I didn’t.” *and to me* “Mom, please come in and be ready to catch me.”
(The phlebotomist prepares my daughters arm for the draw, commenting about how she’s never seen anyone actually faint from a simple blood draw, and what a wuss my daughter is for having to have her mother present for the procedure. When she inserts the needle and starts to draw the blood, my daughter’s eyes roll back and she starts to slide out of the chair.)
Phlebotomist: “What’s happening?! Wake up, wake up! You can’t do this to me! Please, Mom, hold her up while I finish!”
(So much for not keeping the others waiting. She was out cold on the floor for several minutes, and it was over half an hour before she could stand to even get into a wheelchair to leave the room. They’ve since installed a fully reclining chair in the lab, and the phlebotomist learned a valuable lesson about listening to the clients. Also, my daughter will now not allow anyone to draw her blood unless she is fully lying down and will not take “no” for an answer.)
Canada, Doctor/Physician, Extra Stupid, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive | Healthy | April 24, 2019
(I wake up in excruciating and familiar pain. As someone who has cystic ovaries, I can tell when a cyst is about to rupture; the pain is as identifiable as it is horrific. Other symptoms accompany it, including increased discharge from the nether regions — a point that is important, I assure you. My husband drives me to the ER where I describe the symptoms to the nurse, who winces empathetically.)
Nurse: “I’ve had that, too; I know exactly how you feel.”
(The doctor comes in and I clearly explain my symptoms in detail. She performs a pelvic exam.)
Doctor: “Have you inserted a suppository because of the discharge?”
Me: *in disbelief* “No, that’s the other symptom I mentioned to you; it’s fluid from the ruptured cyst.”
(She then grabs my right leg, pushes it up and into my abdomen, and asks me if it hurts as I gasp and retch from the pain of it torquing my ovary. Her diagnosis?)
Doctor: “Tendonitis in your leg.”
(She sent me home with instructions to alternate ice and heat. The sympathetic nurse urged me to seek a second opinion, which I did. At the second hospital, I explained all of my symptoms to the triage nurse, and said, “You will see in my records that I was just seen at the other hospital and was released with a diagnosis of tendonitis. I thought I’d come to see someone at your facility since, apparently, tendonitis is leaking out of my vagina.” Once she finished laughing, she and the rest of the medical team quickly diagnosed me with a ruptured ovarian cyst, and provided the pain medication and follow-up care I needed!)
Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Silly, USA | Healthy | April 23, 2019
(During my third trimester, I am being seen one visit by a doctor who is not my usual ob/gyn. My usual doctor is about five feet tall — 5’2” in heels. I’m 5’3” if I don’t slouch, and my baby is about six pounds. As the doctor in this visit is going over my information, verifying who my doctor is, and checking the size of my baby, he finally exclaims loudly
Doctor: “Jeez, there are a lot of short people involved in this pregnancy.”
(My husband and I kept it together but had a really good laugh later on.)
Doctor/Physician, Florida, Jerk, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | April 22, 2019
(I was diagnosed with a general anxiety disorder and panic disorder at nineteen, and have been on anti-anxiety medications since. Sometimes, they stop being as effective, or the side effects become worse, and I need to return to a doctor to change my prescription. This was never an issue before, as my dosage is low and I don’t require strong or addictive medication. However, after moving, I go to see a new doctor. The clinic has gotten all my medical records from my previous one, and I have filled out the forms, detailing my conditions. The doctor is a general practitioner, is male and middle-aged, and immediately seems to be only paying half-attention. I am a twenty-five-year-old female.)
Doctor: “Now, why is someone like you on anxiety medication?”
Me: *confused* “Because I have an anxiety and panic disorder. I was diagnosed years ago, as it says in my file.”
Doctor: “Have you ever tried losing weight?”
Me: “Uh, yes. I’ve been on diets since I was five. I do eat healthy, and I walk a mile almost daily–“
Doctor: “And you’re not working.”
Me: *having no idea what this has to do with anything* “No, not yet. I just moved states with my family.”
Doctor: “So, you plan on working? Or are you going to school?”
(I have absolutely no idea where this conversation is going, or why he’s suddenly asking about my life. In the back of my head, I’m hoping he’s trying to figure out what medication to put me on if I’m entering a more stressful situation.)
Me: “No, I’m not planning on going to college, and I’ve started looking for a job–“
Doctor: *cutting me off in a grandfatherly, scolding tone* “Now, why aren’t you planning on going to college? There are lots of good colleges around here.” *starts naming off colleges*
(I am getting increasingly embarrassed and flustered. I attended one year of community college, but my health had taken such a terrible turn from the constant stress and panic attacks I nearly ended up in the hospital. I didn’t continue.)
Me: “I’m… not really interested in going back to college, sir. Can we get back to my–“
Doctor: *dismissively* “Now, now, I’ve got a granddaughter your age; I know what I’m talking about. You don’t need more pills. What you need is to get your degree, lose weight, and find a good man to marry. You’re anxious because your life isn’t heading anywhere! I’ll put you on [medication] for now, but when you come back, I expect you to be enrolled somewhere, you hear?” *winking at me* “Doctor’s orders.”
(I was so bewildered and humiliated I just wanted to get out of the office. I took my prescription and never returned to his office again. I’ve had doctors be unprofessional before, but I’ve never had one lecture me on how going to college would magically cure my mental illness!)
Doctor/Physician, Florida, Jerk, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | April 22, 2019
(I was diagnosed with a general anxiety disorder and panic disorder at nineteen, and have been on anti-anxiety medications since. Sometimes, they stop being as effective, or the side effects become worse, and I need to return to a doctor to change my prescription. This was never an issue before, as my dosage is low and I don’t require strong or addictive medication. However, after moving, I go to see a new doctor. The clinic has gotten all my medical records from my previous one, and I have filled out the forms, detailing my conditions. The doctor is a general practitioner, is male and middle-aged, and immediately seems to be only paying half-attention. I am a twenty-five-year-old female.)
Doctor: “Now, why is someone like you on anxiety medication?”
Me: *confused* “Because I have an anxiety and panic disorder. I was diagnosed years ago, as it says in my file.”
Doctor: “Have you ever tried losing weight?”
Me: “Uh, yes. I’ve been on diets since I was five. I do eat healthy, and I walk a mile almost daily–“
Doctor: “And you’re not working.”
Me: *having no idea what this has to do with anything* “No, not yet. I just moved states with my family.”
Doctor: “So, you plan on working? Or are you going to school?”
(I have absolutely no idea where this conversation is going, or why he’s suddenly asking about my life. In the back of my head, I’m hoping he’s trying to figure out what medication to put me on if I’m entering a more stressful situation.)
Me: “No, I’m not planning on going to college, and I’ve started looking for a job–“
Doctor: *cutting me off in a grandfatherly, scolding tone* “Now, why aren’t you planning on going to college? There are lots of good colleges around here.” *starts naming off colleges*
(I am getting increasingly embarrassed and flustered. I attended one year of community college, but my health had taken such a terrible turn from the constant stress and panic attacks I nearly ended up in the hospital. I didn’t continue.)
Me: “I’m… not really interested in going back to college, sir. Can we get back to my–“
Doctor: *dismissively* “Now, now, I’ve got a granddaughter your age; I know what I’m talking about. You don’t need more pills. What you need is to get your degree, lose weight, and find a good man to marry. You’re anxious because your life isn’t heading anywhere! I’ll put you on [medication] for now, but when you come back, I expect you to be enrolled somewhere, you hear?” *winking at me* “Doctor’s orders.”
(I was so bewildered and humiliated I just wanted to get out of the office. I took my prescription and never returned to his office again. I’ve had doctors be unprofessional before, but I’ve never had one lecture me on how going to college would magically cure my mental illness!)
California, Employees, Extra Stupid, Pharmacy, USA | Healthy | April 22, 2019
(I’m at the pharmacy to pick up one of my regular prescriptions. This one is about $5. After the pharmacy tech verifies my identity, the following occurs
Tech: “Okay, just this medication? That will be $45.”
Me: “Wait, what? It’s usually $5. Why is it so expensive?”
Tech: “Hmm, looks like we didn’t run it through your insurance.”
Me: “…”
Tech: “…”
Me: “Could you run it through my insurance?”
Tech: *surprised* “You want me to do that?”
Me: “Yes. Yes, I do.”
(I did get my medication for the right price and headed home. This was over a year ago, and I’m still baffled why asking for it to be run through my insurance was such an odd request.)
Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Nurses, Patients, UK | Healthy | April 21, 2019
(I have appendicitis and have presented at the hospital late at night. These conversations take place over the time between then and finally having surgery the following afternoon. My cis female partner is with me throughout.)
Doctor: “Any chance you could be pregnant?”
Me: “No, this is my only sexual partner and she can’t get me pregnant accidentally.”
Partner: “Well, we aren’t using contraception.”
Me: “True. We’d make a fortune if you did get me pregnant, though.”
Doctor: “We have to do a pregnancy test, anyway.”
(Forty minutes later, in the surgical assessment unit…)
Junior Doctor: “And any chance you are pregnant?”
Me: “The GP did a pregnancy test and it was negative and no, no sperm has been anywhere near me.”
Junior Doctor: “Well, we will do another test.”
(Two hours after that, when I am finally seen by the on-call registrar…)
Registrar: “You must be in agony. Any chance you might be pregnant?”
Me: “You’ve done two pregnancy tests tonight, both negative. This is my only sexual partner. Please, can you just give me some pain relief?”
Registrar: “Yes, we will get antibiotics and saline set up via a cannula and get you some pain relief and then admit you. We need to do swabs for MRSA and a pregnancy test.”
Me: “I have not been able to keep anything down, including more than a sip of water, for over twelve hours now. I am quite dehydrated. The chances of me being able to pee into a cup are very slim.”
Registrar: “Well, just do what you can.”
(A few hours later, I am admitted in the middle of the night and finally given pain relief, and I wake up on the ward.)
Nurse: “Now, we have an order for a pregnancy test; apparently, you couldn’t produce a sample last night, but now that we have fluids in you, you should be able to.”
Me: “I have had two pregnancy tests already since I got here, but sure, let’s do a third.”
(Later, during surgical rounds…)
Surgeon: “Right, well, you’re on the list for urgent surgery. We will need to do a pregnancy test before we can operate, though.”
Me: “You have done three already. All negative. My only sexual partner doesn’t produce sperm and we are not trying for a baby.”
Surgeon: “Three? Maybe I can check those results.”
Me: “Thanks.”
(Nope, the nurse appeared with another cup for me to pee into. I had my appendix out and I was very definitely not pregnant.)
Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, USA, Virginia | Healthy | April 19, 2019
I am extremely susceptible to fungal infections like ringworm. It’s not a real problem, for the most part, just an unsightly nuisance. I had a mark on my arm that I knew from experience was a fungal infection, but the OTC drugs don’t work well on me, so while I was visiting a new doctor about an unrelated issue I asked her about getting a prescription for it. The doctor asked me why I needed it, so I showed her the mark on my arm and explained my history with these kinds of infections.
The doctor immediately got extremely snotty and annoyed with me. She said that I wasn’t a doctor — which is true — and that whatever that mark was, it was not a fungal infection, and that it could be very serious. She said I should tell her about any worrisome marks and then let her do her job — determining what they are and making decisions about my care — without making guesses about what the problem is. She announced that she was going to look at a sample of the mark to determine what it was and what needed to be done, took a skin scraping, and flounced out of the room.
Five minutes later she was back. She wouldn’t look me in the eye while she told me it was a fungal infection, handed me a script, and then marched out.
Albany, Blood Donation, New York, Silly, Spouses & Partners, USA | Healthy | April 17, 2019
(For those who don’t know, there is a specialized blood donation process called apheresis. In this type of donation, the platelets are separated out of the bloodstream and collected, while the rest of the blood is returned to the body. It takes longer than a regular whole blood donation but can be done more often so people can give more. The phone rings and I answer it.)
Me: “Hello?”
Caller: “Hello, this is [Caller] from the American Red Cross calling to speak to [Husband] about scheduling an apheresis appointment.”
Me: *calling out* “[Husband], it’s the Red Cross. They want to suck your blood!”
Hospital, Patients, Silly, UK | Healthy | April 15, 2019
(I’ve been referred to a gynaecologist. After taking my history he shows me behind a curtain, where there is a bed with stirrups, and asks me to get ready for an examination. After a minute or two, I am ready.)
Doctor: *from the other side of the curtain* “Are you decent?”
(My legs are in stirrups, and my genitals are completely exposed.)
Me: *jokingly* “Well, I definitely wouldn’t say I’m decent…”
Columbus, Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Medical Office, Ohio, USA | Healthy | April 14, 2019
(I am coming in for a routine checkup with my GP. I am female and he is going through all the questions. Then, we get to the contraceptive part.)
Doctor: “Are you on birth control?”
Me: “No, I don’t react well to it.”
Doctor: “So, what do you use for protection?”
Me: “Condoms.”
Doctor: “Condoms are fine and all, but not 100% effective. You should really also be on birth control pills.”
Me: “Well, I tried taking the lowest dose offered, but I gained a ton of weight and was always throwing up while I was on it. I don’t react well to it and prefer not to take it. Condoms work just fine.”
Doctor: “Just using condoms is like playing Russian Roulette! It does not protect you 100%!”
Me: *thinking to myself that the “pullout method” was more akin to “Russian Roulette* “Well, again, I get really sick when I’ve taken it in the past, so I really don’t want it.”
(He went on for about five minutes more on how I was being “risky.” I couldn’t help but feel he was being a “pill pusher” and not listening to what I was saying. At that point, I was 26 and married with a steady job, so if I did accidentally become pregnant it wouldn’t have been the end of the world. Every time I went in after that, he was always pushing birth control. I think I need a new GP.)
Extra Stupid, Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, Patients, USA, Virginia | Healthy | April 13, 2019
I’m the dumb patient here.
I had just received a cortisone shot for hip pain and the nurse was giving me post-op instructions, one of which was no soaking baths for three days. I said that I was driving to Chicago the next day and was disappointed that I couldn’t use the hotel hot tub, but then I said, “Well, that’s okay; I’ll just swim extra laps.”
The nurse gave me an odd look and reminded me that the instructions also meant “no swimming.”
Ice Cream Shop | Fairbanks, AK, USA | Working | June 23, 2015
(It falls to me to train all the new high school kids. This is my trainee’s first job and we’re doing the general cleaning at the end of the night. All we have left to do is mop the floors.)
Me: “Okay, when filling the mop bucket, you only need to use a small amount of the floor cleaner, since we get the concentrated stuff.”
(I fill the cap from the jug with cleaner and pour it into the bucket.)
Me: “That’s all you need.”
Trainee: “That’s it?”
Me: “That’s it.”
(I walk away to finish counting the nightly deposit. A few minutes later she comes back to me.)
Trainee: “I think I need more floor cleaner. I’m not done with the lobby but I’ve already run out.”
Me: “…what?”
(I walk over to the mop bucket and it is empty, and the mop is almost completely dry.
Me: “Didn’t you add water to the bucket?”
Trainee: “I have to add water? But you said that all I needed was the floor cleaner.”
(She had never mopped a floor and therefore didn’t know that you needed water AND cleaner in the bucket.)
(At my store, cashiers shout to the barista which drinks have been ordered. The exceptions to this are water and soda; customers get cups for that and are directed to the soda fountain.)
Cashier: “Can you make my customer a caramel latte?”
Me: “You got it!”
(I make the drink, and a woman walks up to the counter.)
Customer: “Is this mine?”
Me: “A caramel latte?”
Customer: “Thanks!”
(She takes it and leaves. Ten minutes later, she comes back to the counter.)
Customer: “I don’t think this is what I ordered.”
Me: “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ll remake yours. What did you order?”
Customer: “Oh, I ordered water.”
Me: *speechless*
(Another customer walks up to the counter.)
Other Customer: “I don’t mean to bother, but I ordered a caramel latte a long time ago. Is it ready yet?”
Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Silly, USA | Healthy | April 23, 2019
(During my third trimester, I am being seen one visit by a doctor who is not my usual ob/gyn. My usual doctor is about five feet tall — 5’2” in heels. I’m 5’3” if I don’t slouch, and my baby is about six pounds. As the doctor in this visit is going over my information, verifying who my doctor is, and checking the size of my baby, he finally exclaims loudly
Doctor: “Jeez, there are a lot of short people involved in this pregnancy.”
(My husband and I kept it together but had a really good laugh later on.)
Doctor/Physician, Florida, Jerk, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | April 22, 2019
(I was diagnosed with a general anxiety disorder and panic disorder at nineteen, and have been on anti-anxiety medications since. Sometimes, they stop being as effective, or the side effects become worse, and I need to return to a doctor to change my prescription. This was never an issue before, as my dosage is low and I don’t require strong or addictive medication. However, after moving, I go to see a new doctor. The clinic has gotten all my medical records from my previous one, and I have filled out the forms, detailing my conditions. The doctor is a general practitioner, is male and middle-aged, and immediately seems to be only paying half-attention. I am a twenty-five-year-old female.)
Doctor: “Now, why is someone like you on anxiety medication?”
Me: *confused* “Because I have an anxiety and panic disorder. I was diagnosed years ago, as it says in my file.”
Doctor: “Have you ever tried losing weight?”
Me: “Uh, yes. I’ve been on diets since I was five. I do eat healthy, and I walk a mile almost daily–“
Doctor: “And you’re not working.”
Me: *having no idea what this has to do with anything* “No, not yet. I just moved states with my family.”
Doctor: “So, you plan on working? Or are you going to school?”
(I have absolutely no idea where this conversation is going, or why he’s suddenly asking about my life. In the back of my head, I’m hoping he’s trying to figure out what medication to put me on if I’m entering a more stressful situation.)
Me: “No, I’m not planning on going to college, and I’ve started looking for a job–“
Doctor: *cutting me off in a grandfatherly, scolding tone* “Now, why aren’t you planning on going to college? There are lots of good colleges around here.” *starts naming off colleges*
(I am getting increasingly embarrassed and flustered. I attended one year of community college, but my health had taken such a terrible turn from the constant stress and panic attacks I nearly ended up in the hospital. I didn’t continue.)
Me: “I’m… not really interested in going back to college, sir. Can we get back to my–“
Doctor: *dismissively* “Now, now, I’ve got a granddaughter your age; I know what I’m talking about. You don’t need more pills. What you need is to get your degree, lose weight, and find a good man to marry. You’re anxious because your life isn’t heading anywhere! I’ll put you on [medication] for now, but when you come back, I expect you to be enrolled somewhere, you hear?” *winking at me* “Doctor’s orders.”
(I was so bewildered and humiliated I just wanted to get out of the office. I took my prescription and never returned to his office again. I’ve had doctors be unprofessional before, but I’ve never had one lecture me on how going to college would magically cure my mental illness!)
Doctor/Physician, Florida, Jerk, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | April 22, 2019
(I was diagnosed with a general anxiety disorder and panic disorder at nineteen, and have been on anti-anxiety medications since. Sometimes, they stop being as effective, or the side effects become worse, and I need to return to a doctor to change my prescription. This was never an issue before, as my dosage is low and I don’t require strong or addictive medication. However, after moving, I go to see a new doctor. The clinic has gotten all my medical records from my previous one, and I have filled out the forms, detailing my conditions. The doctor is a general practitioner, is male and middle-aged, and immediately seems to be only paying half-attention. I am a twenty-five-year-old female.)
Doctor: “Now, why is someone like you on anxiety medication?”
Me: *confused* “Because I have an anxiety and panic disorder. I was diagnosed years ago, as it says in my file.”
Doctor: “Have you ever tried losing weight?”
Me: “Uh, yes. I’ve been on diets since I was five. I do eat healthy, and I walk a mile almost daily–“
Doctor: “And you’re not working.”
Me: *having no idea what this has to do with anything* “No, not yet. I just moved states with my family.”
Doctor: “So, you plan on working? Or are you going to school?”
(I have absolutely no idea where this conversation is going, or why he’s suddenly asking about my life. In the back of my head, I’m hoping he’s trying to figure out what medication to put me on if I’m entering a more stressful situation.)
Me: “No, I’m not planning on going to college, and I’ve started looking for a job–“
Doctor: *cutting me off in a grandfatherly, scolding tone* “Now, why aren’t you planning on going to college? There are lots of good colleges around here.” *starts naming off colleges*
(I am getting increasingly embarrassed and flustered. I attended one year of community college, but my health had taken such a terrible turn from the constant stress and panic attacks I nearly ended up in the hospital. I didn’t continue.)
Me: “I’m… not really interested in going back to college, sir. Can we get back to my–“
Doctor: *dismissively* “Now, now, I’ve got a granddaughter your age; I know what I’m talking about. You don’t need more pills. What you need is to get your degree, lose weight, and find a good man to marry. You’re anxious because your life isn’t heading anywhere! I’ll put you on [medication] for now, but when you come back, I expect you to be enrolled somewhere, you hear?” *winking at me* “Doctor’s orders.”
(I was so bewildered and humiliated I just wanted to get out of the office. I took my prescription and never returned to his office again. I’ve had doctors be unprofessional before, but I’ve never had one lecture me on how going to college would magically cure my mental illness!)
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