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.
Bizarre, Doctor/Physician, Emergency Room, Hospital, USA, Wisconsin | | Healthy | May 6, 2019
(My father is experiencing severe vertigo, to the point where he can’t even crawl. We are in the ER waiting for his turn at the MRI. My dad is a large man with a beard. A doctor we don’t recognize walks into the room and stops short.)
Doctor: “Um…” *looks at his chart, then at Dad, then at my mom and me* “ Mrs. [Wrong Name]?”
Me: “I think you have the wrong room.”
Doctor: “I think you might be right; none of you look like you’re in labor right now.”
(We all laugh with him over his mistake and he leaves. Dad gets his MRI and is wheeled back in while we wait for the results. The same doctor comes in again.)
Doctor: “Let’s try this again, Mr. [Different Wrong Name]?”
Mom: “Nope.”
Doctor: “Nail through the foot?”
Me: “Wrong room again.”
Doctor: “D*** it. How…?”
(He checks the chart in his hands, then runs out and checks the room number.)
Doctor: “Somebody put the wrong room on the chart.”
(He runs off to find his patient. A while later, the ER doctors have run all the tests they can on Dad and still can’t find a cause. They’ve tentatively diagnosed him with a viral infection and have given him instructions for follow-up. Unfortunately, there is a multi-car pile-up and they suddenly get so busy they can’t spare anyone long enough to do the discharge paperwork. We do our best to stay out of the way. The same doctor comes in again, looks at his chart, then face-palms.)
Doctor: “Okay, none of you are a teenage girl with a broken pelvis! What the h***?!”
Mom: “We’re just such fun people that you’re making excuses to come hang out with us!”
Doctor: *laughing* “That must be it! Right!”
(I know he must have been frustrated, but I think he needed the comic relief as much as we did on that stressful night.)
Bizarre, Doctor/Physician, Medical Office, Minnesota, Patients, USA | Healthy | May 5, 2019
(I’ve got a new doctor and am giving them the rundown on my family history.)
Doctor: “I see on your form that you checked ‘yes’ to all the diseases we have listed. They all run in your family?”
Me: “Yes. I have a very large family and at least one of them has or had at least one of those diseases.”
Doctor: “Even [rare cancer]?”
Me: “Grandma died of it.”
Doctor: “Huh. Who in your family had [disease]?”
Me: “Two of my great aunts on my dad’s side, and my uncle on my mother’s side.”
Doctor: “And your family’s history of cancer… says ‘all’?”
Me: “Doctors never really believe me, but all the cancers you have listed there? Yeah, when I add up my mother’s side of the family and my father’s side, it’s all there.”
Doctor: *open-mouthed shock* “Wow.”
Me: “I get that reaction from doctors a lot.”
(For reference, my grandmother was one of nine kids, my other grandmother was one of eleven, and all of their kids had at least five kids. It’s a big family, and they’ve all had some kind of major medical issue in the past, and most of them work in the medical field. I just tell doctors to check everything when they ask what runs in the family. It saves time.)
Bad Behavior, Blood Donation, Jerk, Nurses, USA | Healthy | May 4, 2019
(I’m a frequent blood donor. I have large, easy veins, don’t flinch or get queasy around blood or needles, and am known at the clinic, so I often get the least experienced workers. Sometimes the new, nervous ones aren’t the best, but I figure practice makes perfect, and their mistakes — like not being gentle or having a bad angle on the needle — don’t bother me. Usually.)
Tech: “Hi. I’m [Tech] and I’m going to be drawing your blood today.” *continues with the standard script and questions* “Have you donated blood with us before?”
Me: “A few dozen times; I’m here every eight weeks on the dot. How long have you been at [Clinic]?”
Tech: “Today is my first day!”
Me: “Well, congratulations! I’ll make your job really easy, then. I’m well hydrated and have nice, big veins for you.”
(The tech starts prepping the bag and needle, muttering the steps to herself. She somehow manages to poke herself with the needle.)
Tech: “Oh, shoot, I need to go and dispose of this and reglove.”
Me: “No worries. I’m in no rush. Take your time.”
(The tech comes back, looking slightly pale and panicked. I try to smile at her, but she just seems to be getting progressively more flustered. She tries to stick my vein and misses.)
Tech: “Oh, I’m so sorry. Can I try again?”
Me: *smiling again* “Of course, take a few deep breaths and try again.”
(The tech tries again. And again. Then, she drops the needle and has to get another other. The whole time, I’m trying to calm her down as she seems to be upset with herself.)
Me: “Now, I know I’m not officially trained, but I’ve had a lot of needles stuck in me. Slow down a bit. Breath deeply a few times. The vein is right there. You can do this.”
Tech: *mutters quietly but rapidly under her breath while getting paler*
(She tries to stick me three more times, somehow missing my vein every time. Her hands are shaking and she appears on the verge of tears.)
Me: “Hey, it’s okay. This is a tough job. Why don’t we call over one of the more experienced nurses?”
Tech: “No, no, no, I can do this. Really.”
(She proceeds to stick me five more times, at worse and worse angles. I’m slowly losing patience with her. She’s now trying to stick me with a needle that is practically perpendicular to my arm. She still hasn’t been able to actually hit my vein. What is usually a twenty-minute deal has taken almost an hour.)
Me: “Okay. Get a nurse now. They can help you out.”
Tech: “No!”
(She then rather aggressively jams the needle into my arm, hitting a nerve and nowhere near a vein. I swear like a sailor and rip the needle out of my arm.)
Me: “Listen up. I have been beyond patient here. Get me a d*** nurse. Now.”
Tech: “They’re all busy right now!”
Me: “Okay, fine. F*** it.”
(I then insert the needle into my own vein in one go. The tech looks stunned.)
Me: “Hook up the collection bag and then get me a nurse and get the h*** away from me.”
Tech: *in a shrill voice* “You can’t do that! You can’t! You can’t!”
(The head nurse hears the commotion and comes over.)
Nurse: “What is going on over here? [My Name], why are you still here? I checked you in an hour ago!”
Me: “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, [Nurse].”
California, Health & Body, Hospital, Parents/Guardians, Patients, USA | Healthy | May 3, 2019
(My boyfriend and I are woken up by a phone call at six am from his 15-year-old sister saying, “Something is wrong with Dad; you need to get to the hospital.” We live 100 miles away, so I tell my boyfriend to go now and I will pack a few things and meet him up there. When I get up there I find out he has hydrocephalus, or water on the brain, which is a fairly rare disorder that typically happens to infants and people over 60. My boyfriend’s father is 47. It causes fluid to build up and put pressure on the brain. They release the pressure by removing parts of his skull. The next day, a nurse is in with him and my boyfriend’s mom comes out to talk to us.)
Mom: “They think he’s going to be okay, but right now we either have to sit with him or they have to restrain him. Otherwise, he might hurt himself; he can’t remember what is going on. Can you go sit with him for a while? I need a break.”
(We agree and go in.)
Boyfriend: “Hi, Dad!”
Dad: “Hi… Where am I?”
Boyfriend: “You’re in the hospital; you’re going to be fine. You just got sick and the doctors are going to help you.”
Dad: “Well, that was mighty inconvenient of me.”
Boyfriend: *laughing* “Just a touch.”
(My boyfriend’s father’s head starts to dip and his eyes slide to the side and become unfocused. Then, his head comes back up and he sees us and smiles.)
Dad: “Hi, guys! What are you doing here? Wait. Where am I?”
Boyfriend: *trying not to cry* “Hi, Dad. You’re in the hospital; you’re going to be fine.”
Dad: *laughing* “Well, that was mighty inconvenient of me.”
(Then, his head starts to dip. My boyfriend and I look at each other, both of us trying not to cry.)
Dad: “Hi, guys! What are you doing here?”
(I step over to his bed and take his hand.)
Me: “Hi, Dad. You had a small accident you’re going to be fine.”
(We stayed with him for a couple of hours having the same conversation. I had seen short-term memory loss on TV but thought it was an exaggeration. It’s not. Thankfully, he really was, overall, okay.)
Chile, Dentist, Jerk, Santiago | Healthy | May 3, 2019
(I have recently changed my dentist. I’m 30 and I have never had any cavities before, but I go to a consult since I notice something weird in two of my teeth. I suspect they are cavities but they don’t hurt or bother me at all, and I don’t know what cavities look like.)
Dentist: “You have four cavities! What a disaster!”
Me: “Well, it’s the first four in 30 years.”
Dentist: “This looks so bad! We need x-rays!”
Me: “I’d have come earlier but they didn’t hurt and they look very small, so it took me a while to notice them.”
Dentist: “Four cavities! This is insane! Are you bulimic?”
Me: “No.”
Dentist: “You sure? It clearly looks like bulimia.”
Me: “I’m not bulimic. I’m not alcohol abusive, either; I barely ever throw up.”
(The doctor doesn’t believe me, and sends me to do the x-rays. I come back to have the cavities fixed.)
Dentist: “Are you sure you don’t throw up? This amount of cavities is not normal!”
(By then, I feel filthy. I don’t throw up and I brush my teeth, but the big deal she is making makes it look like I am her worst case in years. She fixes my cavities, which are all very superficial, and I go home pretty worried and thinking about buying a different mouthwash, toothbrush, and toothpaste. My boyfriend is having some friends over and I tell them what happened.)
Friend: “Four in your life? I get four cavities removed every time I go to the dentist!”
Boyfriend: “You can’t see them because they are in the back of my mouth, but I’ve had several big fixes.”
(The following day, two of my four fixes fall out while I’m brushing my teeth. I go to have them re-fixed. The dentist keeps telling me to suck it up, still implying I have an eating disorder. The remaining two fall out within a month, but this time I go to a different professional. I’m already expecting to get yelled at for my poor dental condition.)
Chile, Dentist, Jerk, Santiago | Healthy | May 3, 2019
(I have recently changed my dentist. I’m 30 and I have never had any cavities before, but I go to a consult since I notice something weird in two of my teeth. I suspect they are cavities but they don’t hurt or bother me at all, and I don’t know what cavities look like.)
Dentist: “You have four cavities! What a disaster!”
Me: “Well, it’s the first four in 30 years.”
Dentist: “This looks so bad! We need x-rays!”
Me: “I’d have come earlier but they didn’t hurt and they look very small, so it took me a while to notice them.”
Dentist: “Four cavities! This is insane! Are you bulimic?”
Me: “No.”
Dentist: “You sure? It clearly looks like bulimia.”
Me: “I’m not bulimic. I’m not alcohol abusive, either; I barely ever throw up.”
(The doctor doesn’t believe me, and sends me to do the x-rays. I come back to have the cavities fixed.)
Dentist: “Are you sure you don’t throw up? This amount of cavities is not normal!”
(By then, I feel filthy. I don’t throw up and I brush my teeth, but the big deal she is making makes it look like I am her worst case in years. She fixes my cavities, which are all very superficial, and I go home pretty worried and thinking about buying a different mouthwash, toothbrush, and toothpaste. My boyfriend is having some friends over and I tell them what happened.)
Friend: “Four in your life? I get four cavities removed every time I go to the dentist!”
Boyfriend: “You can’t see them because they are in the back of my mouth, but I’ve had several big fixes.”
(The following day, two of my four fixes fall out while I’m brushing my teeth. I go to have them re-fixed. The dentist keeps telling me to suck it up, still implying I have an eating disorder. The remaining two fall out within a month, but this time I go to a different professional. I’m already expecting to get yelled at for my poor dental condition.)
Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Kentucky, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | May 3, 2019
(I wear contacts, and I’ve had problems seeing when using my contacts for a while now. It has finally gotten to the point where I can’t stand it and go to the eye doctor to get my prescription checked. A student does the actual exam and finds my new prescription, and I can already tell a difference. She leaves and the actual doctor comes in.)
Doctor: *takes a look at the paperwork the student completed* “Well, it looks like your prescription stayed the same, so you can just order some more of the same contacts.”
Me: *shocked* “Really? I’ve been having double vision and I can’t focus my eyes at a close range very well.”
Doctor: “Nope, it’s the same. Are you sure you’re having problems?”
Me: “Yes, I’ve also been getting headaches from straining my eyes to focus.”
Doctor: *repeats the exam TWICE to find my eye prescription* “Well, I found the same thing she did, which is a slight decrease in prescription in your right eye. This is very unusual since eyesight doesn’t normally get better with time, so I think your prescription should stay the same.”
(We go back and forth a few times; I keep insisting that I need a change. It’s very unusual for me to advocate for myself this much, but I really can’t take the eye strain anymore so I KNOW I can’t stay with the same prescription. He finally agrees to let me try the lower prescription on a trial and come back in two weeks to see how I like it. The trial contacts have to be ordered by the receptionist, and I notice the doctor go around and point to the screen and tell her to “order these instead,” but I don’t think anything of it. I go back in a week when they come in. The receptionist hands me the trial contacts and I have a look at the prescription number.)
Me: *confused and irritated look on my face*
Receptionist: “Is something wrong? You look confused.”
Me: “These are supposed to be trial contacts for a new prescription. Why are they the same as my current contacts?”
Receptionist: *takes the contacts back, looks at her computer and back at the contacts, and starts getting flustered* “Um, I don’t know. Let me look at this…”
(She eventually got a different doctor in the practice to come to look at my file. The other doctor took one look at my file, immediately went to get me the correct contacts — which DIDN’T have to be ordered — and told me to come back and see her instead of the first doctor. At my appointment with her, she told me that my prescription should actually be even lower than the first doctor prescribed. The only conclusion I can come up with is that the first doctor didn’t believe me and was trying to trick me into staying with the same prescription, twice! [Doctor], why was it so hard for you to believe I couldn’t see?!)
Awesome, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Nurses, USA | Healthy | May 2, 2019
(I have a serious phobia of needles due to a traumatic incident when I was a child, and because of this I always need someone present with me to cope with the situation. I am due to have very minor surgery on my arm, but I will need two needles during the operation. My boyfriend schedules off to go with me, but on the day of, he is called into work. I can’t cancel or I will incur a large fee, so I decide to tough it out and go. When I am called into the room, the nurse starts asking me questions, and I let her know that I have a phobia of needles. As soon as she leaves the room I enter into hysterics. I end up calling a friend, and he calms me down by the time the doctor returns with the nurse. They keep my friend on speaker, the nurse holds my hand, and they all keep me laughing so much I don’t have time to cry. These are just some of my favorite moments from the hour-long procedure.)
Doctor: “You’re telling me you’re getting birth control, but you’re afraid of a little prick?”
(Another moment…)
Friend: “You still alive over there?”
Me: “I sure hope so. Is everything going all right?”
Doctor: “Oh, you’ll know something’s wrong when you hear me walk out the door saying, ‘I am not dealing with that paperwork today.’”
(Another moment…)
Me: *to nurse* “Is it really bad?”
Nurse: “Don’t ask me, I’m not looking! Why do you think I need to hold your hand?!”
(Another moment…)
Me: “Thank you so much for being so nice to me. I know, as an adult, I should be able to handle this all by now. I know it’s not logical; I just work myself up and go into hysterics.”
Doctor: “And while you were in the room with me, you didn’t cry once. Sometimes it’s not your fault that you’re scared. Sometimes it’s the fault of the people around you for not knowing how to make you feel safe.”
(I can’t thank those three enough for not only making a terrible experience into a great memory, but for helping relieve some of the self-hatred I had due to my phobia. If I ever need a shot again, I know exactly where I want to go!)
Doctor/Physician, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, USA | Healthy | May 2, 2019
A standard practice in the US is for pharmacies to call physicians for refills on prescriptions, not patients. If there are issues with getting refills, the physician’s office will contact the patient for a visit.
I’m currently seeing a new physician who I’m not happy with, but the waitlist is two months long to see a different doctor. I’ve found that this doctor doesn’t listen and doesn’t seem to take mental health issues seriously. She tried to switch my medications — without telling me — despite the fact that I’ve been stable on this medication for over five years. She also accused me of faking foot pain, despite evidence that I had an untreated break in my foot two years ago which didn’t heal well, and tried to convince me to get unnecessarily invasive tests at a specialist clinic for no reason. She also made me get tested for Hepatitis and HIV because I have tattoos — which are all over a year old — even though I just had those tests done two months prior as part of my regular checkup with my old doctor, which was in my medical record.
I’m on a mental health medication known for terrible withdrawal symptoms after just one missed dose. It’s very important that I take it every single day. I notice that I am out of refills, so I notify my pharmacy and they send out a refill request. It is denied because I still have a month left. I have the pharmacy send in another refill request two weeks later. The doctor doesn’t respond. The pharmacy contacts me, saying there were some issues and they can’t get a refill. I call my doctor’s office. They say they will have my doctor send in a refill that day. Still no refill and no request for an appointment. I call again two days later, still nothing. I now have less than a week left. I call every day for the rest of the week, still nothing. On Saturday morning, I’m tired and scared because I’m out of medication and don’t have any refills. I decide to go to the ER because it’s the closest place open on a weekend; there are two urgent care centers but one isn’t open on weekends and the other doesn’t have someone who can write prescriptions working that day.
I go into the ER and explain my issue. I’m clearly not having an emergency, but thankfully there are no other patients that morning and they’re able to write me a one-week prescription and send me on my way in under thirty minutes. While I’m at the ER, I’m clearly frustrated but grateful for the lovely doctor and nurse who are assisting me. The nurse gives me a giant hug and a chocolate muffin from the break room, and both the doctor and the nurse file a report against my doctor.
Monday morning at eight am, I get a call from my doctor’s boss. She saw on my chart that I had an ER visit for the sole purpose of getting a medication refill and wanted to know why. I explained the situation, and also mentioned being worried that I couldn’t afford an ER bill because emergency room visits aren’t covered under my insurance if they’re not considered an actual emergency, such as a broken limb.
A few days later, I check my insurance claims to see what my ER bill is going to be, expecting a bill of at least $2,000 out-of-pocket. My entire ER bill has been comped, as well as my past visits with the terrible doctor. I end up paying $0 for the entire debacle. I also get a three-month refill instead of one month, and it is also comped instead of the usual $45 per month.
I have since found a new physician, but at the same clinic because they went so far above and beyond to correct one doctor’s mistakes.
Bad Behavior, Doctor/Physician, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, USA | Healthy | May 2, 2019
When I was very young, my family lived in a rural area where we only had access to one clinic that took our health insurance. While we could have driven into the city — about three hours — if there had ever been a situation that the clinic couldn’t handle or if we’d needed a special consultation, for the most part, my parents stuck with the local clinic. The clinic was very small; I don’t believe that there were ever more than four doctors on staff, and most of them were not there full time. Although the clinic tried to hire doctors who practiced family medicine — so they could see all ages of patients — there was one pediatrician on staff, and because of this, my brother and I were just automatically sent to him, as were most kids in our area. He often rushed through appointments and was impatient when my parents had questions, although since my brother and I were generally healthy kids, our family didn’t have too many issues with him… until I was four.
When I was four, I developed a strange rash on my neck, back, and legs. My mom took me to the clinic, where the pediatrician took one look and said that I had ringworm. He prescribed a salve, an oral antifungal medication, and an antifungal shampoo, since the rash on my neck was near my hairline and ringworm can cause permanent hair loss if it develops on your scalp. I was on the medication for over a month before the symptoms subsided, and we thought that it was over… until I had another rash a few months after that. And a few months after that. The doctor kept prescribing the same regime every time. I was miserable because the oral medication messed up my stomach, and my parents were driving themselves crazy trying to sanitize anything that I ever came into contact with to hopefully prevent a recurrence and to avoid my brother getting infected.
This happened about four times over the course of two years; although my parents asked if there could possibly be something else going on, since ringworm is not supposed to be a chronic condition, the doctor blew them off every time and essentially told them not to question his authority, since he’d gone to school for this and they hadn’t. He was very condescending, and when my parents asked for advice, he’d just repeat stuff about hygiene and washing up. My parents had actually just decided to take me into the city for a second opinion if I had another rash when the usual doctor stepped down and we got a new one.
My parents brought my brother and me in for our flu shots, and the new doctor noticed the beginnings of the rash on my arm. He asked my parents about it, and they told him that they weren’t interested in putting me on the same antifungals since they clearly weren’t working and were just making me miserable. He was confused and asked why I’d be on antifungals for eczema. A couple of quick tests confirmed that he was correct, that I definitely didn’t have ringworm, and instead of multiple infections, I had one condition that flared up every few months. I got a prescription for an anti-inflammatory cream, and the doctor suggested that my mom change our laundry detergent, and then the rash was handled. But that wasn’t the end of the story.
The new doctor checked my file and confirmed that the old doctor hadn’t done any testing to diagnose me the first time — no black-light test, no biopsies or cultures, nothing — and had just marked that it visually presented as ringworm. Each subsequent time I came in, the old doctor stuck to that rather than reassess. After that, my parents requested a copy of my file, and then saw the notes that the old doctor had made, which basically amounted to him complaining about working with dirty, poor, uneducated families who couldn’t keep their kids clean. He hadn’t bothered to do any further testing when my parents told him that they’d complied with all his suggestions for how to make sure that I didn’t catch “ringworm” again, because he just assumed that anyone who lived in our rural area must be a dumb, ignorant hick who couldn’t really value hygiene.
My parents were furious. We later learned that he had been asked to step down from his position in the clinic precisely because he’d had this attitude with most of the families who came into the clinic, and had said as much to one of the nurses, not realizing that a patient had overheard. One of the things he must not have realized about smaller communities like ours is that word spreads like wildfire. Dozens of families were suddenly requesting records for their children, and people found multiple stories like mine where the pediatrician diagnosed without testing, or made assumptions about families that impacted the way he handled their treatment. There was a community-wide effort to send complaints to the state medical board. I know that there was at least one successful lawsuit against him, and last I heard, that pediatrician’s license to practice medicine was revoked.
Meanwhile, our new doctor treated my eczema, saved my brother’s life during an allergic reaction, became a hero in our community for doing house calls, and has received state-wide recognition for being willing
Doctor/Physician, Hawaii, Honolulu, Jerk, Medical Office, Nurses, USA | Healthy | May 1, 2019
(My one-and-a-half-year-old needs a TB test — for the curious, it turns out negative. She’s always been very strong, and I know it’s going to be tricky to get her to hold still for the jab, so I offer to help the technician.)
Me: “She’s pretty strong; would you like me to help hold her?”
Tech: *eyes rolling and voice dripping with sarcasm* “I’m just sure she is. Every parent says that.”
Me: *stepping back* “Okay, have fun.”
(For the next few minutes, the tech finds himself unable to do the quick little jab because my daughter is able to fight him off. Finally, he admits defeat.)
Tech: “Could you hold her, please?”
Me: *sickly sweet* “I’d be happy to.”
(I wrapped my arms and legs around her tightly, and it was still a struggle, but the tech administered the test. If he’d just humored me instead of being condescending, it would have been much easier for him!)
Bad Behavior, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Logan, USA, Utah | Healthy | May 1, 2019
(I have epilepsy and have had several partial-complex seizures. I have been delivered by ambulance to the city hospital; unfortunately, the neurologist on call is one who I stopped seeing when he accused me of faking seizures in order to get attention, possibly because he is friendly with the neurologist who molested me when I was a teen.)
ER Nurse: “Her ID says she has epilepsy. We need to make sure she’s had her medication today.”
Neurologist: “There’s no need. She’s just being dramatic.” *to me* “[My Name]! Stop trying to make everyone feel sorry for you.” *to the nurse* “Give her some [anxiety medication]. She’ll tell you it gives her panic attacks; she’s a chronic liar. Just do it.”
(I am not sure what happens next, but I wake up in the darkened room alone. Confused and sick, I throw up in a trash bin and wander down an empty hall until I find an exit. I remember walking blankly until I find a street sign, then calling my sister and asking her to pick me up. About an hour later, I am home in bed when the phone rings and my mother answers.)
Caller: “This is [Caller] from [Hospital]. Your daughter was here earlier today. She isn’t currently in the room and hasn’t been seen in a few hours; would you like us to begin looking for her?”
Mother: “She’s with us now, and safe, no thanks to you.”
Caller: “Oh, okay. When can she come in to give us her billing information?”
(I did go back, with my parents… and a lawyer. He suggested that charging me for improper treatment that I had never consented to, and had been harmed by, might not be in their best interest. They dropped the bill. They also sent my mother flowers, which was weird.)
Bad Behavior, Doctor/Physician, Illinois, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | May 1, 2019
(I have been battling a lot of stomach pain and bloating. One day, it becomes unbearable. My regular doctor’s office is closed, so I go to Urgent Care. The doctor comes in and asks what my symptoms are. I’ve just finished describing them to her.)
Doctor: “And is there any chance you’re pregnant?”
Me: *laughs* “Nope. No chance.”
Doctor: “Don’t laugh, young lady. It’s a normal diagnosis for a young lady in her 20s.”
Me: “I understand that. But if I’m pregnant, you’d better start looking for a star, three wise men, and some shepherds.”
(I’ve used this joke with my regular doctor and my OBGYN, and they both laughed. This doctor, however, frowns and folds her arms.)
Doctor: “Uh-huh. Your chart says you’re on birth control. Tell me, what does a ‘virgin’ need birth control for?”
(Yes, she actually air-quotes “virgin” with her fingers. I explode.)
Me: “Because I have severe period problems, and I can’t afford to be in bed for two weeks a month with cramps and migraines! Not everyone who is on birth control does it so they can have sex! Way to assume things, though. Do you do this to all your female patients?”
Doctor: “Um… Let’s just check your stomach, shall we?”
Me: “Yes, please!”
(As she’s examining me
Doctor: “Ah… I think it’s really admirable to see a young lady in her 20s who is still… pure.”
Me: “Don’t try to make this better.”
Doctor: “Sorry.”
(She announced that she had no idea what I had, and sent me home with an antibiotic. I didn’t take it. I called my regular doctor when the office reopened. He ordered a bunch of tests. It was determined later that I had a nasty case of IBS.)
England, Hampshire, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Non-Dialogue, Nurses, UK | Healthy | April 30, 2019
After getting mugged, which involved several kicks to the head, I came to in A&E a bit concussed but otherwise okay-ish.
I had been out for a few hours, and as a smoker, my nicotine levels were way down. I asked if I could use my vape as I’m allergic to the glue they use on most of the commercial patches. The answer was that an anti-allergenic patch would be provided. I ask what specific brand it is, as I am severely allergic to some.
A tech turns up and tapes a patch to my arm, complaining that this brand is awful for staying on.
It is ninety seconds from patch to, “Oops, we stopped your heart as part of the massive response to what you told us not to do.”
I’m now allowed to vape in bed if I can keep it discreet, or I can go down to a vape spot if there’s a nurse or someone willing to go with me. Given that half the medical staff are smokers, I’m proving popular.
When It’s The Healthcare That Gives Us The Blood Pressure
Insurance, New Jersey, Non-Dialogue, Patients, USA | Healthy | April 30, 2019
For an assortment of reasons, my husband has been unemployed for a while, outside of extremely short temp work and off-the-book odd jobs. For a while he has been having random symptoms: foot and ankle pain, shortness of breath after exertion — more than normal — and lower back pain. All together, they don’t seem to add up to anything aside from random aches and pains, they never stick around long, and without insurance, he can’t afford to see a doctor properly, so he just treats with aspirin and the like.
Finally, it happens: the Affordable Care Act is passed. He signs up and gets real health insurance for the first time in a decade. He’s assigned a primary care physician and we call to set up an appointment. No answer. We try again, and again, and again, at both the number listed on the insurance site and on their individual site. We never get an answer; we never even get voicemail. After a bit more than a month of this, he’s feeling ill; the local EMO doesn’t take the medicare-based version of his insurance, so we head to the hospital ER right down the street. He apologizes for coming for such a minor thing but we don’t have any other options at the time. They say it’s fine and after a wait, they take his vitals… and they immediately wheel him into the observation room. We’re trying desperately to get some actual information from the first nurse bringing him in, or the second nurse coming to hook him up to all their monitors.
Finally, a full doctor comes in and starts asking questions, but we interrupt and ask, specifically, why they are doing all this. She shows us the blood pressure monitor: 220/120. His BP has always been high, especially at the doctor’s/hospital because of “white coat syndrome,” but never that high! Somehow he never actually had a heart attack or stroke over the past several months, but that unrestrained pressure did a lot of damage to his kidneys. My husband is in the hospital for about ten days — although he was originally going to get out in six, one batch of test results gets messed up and they can’t run it again until the following Monday. When he leaves, he is on a prescription for about eight different heart and blood pressure medications, two of which are quickly dropped and two others cut in half once he gets home and can relax!
The bad news is that, because of the level of damage his kidneys have suffered, my husband’s on the verge of needing to go on the transplant list. The good news is that his heart has made a near-complete recovery, his prescriptions have been cut down further, and his kidney functions have actually improved to a point where he’s no longer hovering on the verge of failure!
And that’s why we say to this day, with no irony: thanks, Obama!
Alberta, Canada, Employees, Lazy/Unhelpful, Reception, Vet | Healthy | April 30, 2019
(My roommate works outside of the city, about an hour’s drive away. She decides that she wants to get a dog, and the other two roommates and I agree to help take care of it during the day when she’s away. On Monday, the dog is having some stomach trouble. We watch her closely but determine that she needs to go to the vet on Wednesday. My roommate contacts the vet to let them know that I will be bringing the dog by. I drop the dog off, and then return a few hours later when called to pick her up.)
Me: “Hello, I’m here to pick up [Dog] on behalf of [Roommate].”
Front Desk: “Great! She’ll need to take these pills for nausea.” *hands me the pills, and brings the dog out on a leash*
Me: “Has she had the pill for today? Is there anything I can or cannot feed it to her with?”
Front Desk: “I didn’t handle her case; let me get the vet.” *goes to the back, then returns a few minutes later* “I’m sorry, but the vet is with another patient right now. I’ll pull up her file, instead.” *pulls up the file on the computer* “It says that you need to keep an eye on her.”
Me: “What do you mean by ‘keep an eye on her’? What do I need to watch for? And does it say anything about the pill or the foods she shouldn’t have?”
Front Desk: “I can’t tell you that for privacy reasons. The vet has contacted your roommate; you’ll need to talk to her.”
Me: “My roommate is at work right now and might not be able to respond to calls or texts for a few hours. Could you at least let me know what I need to watch for over the next four hours until she’s home?”
Front Desk: “I can’t tell you about anything else on her file for privacy reasons.”
(Frustrated, I take the dog and start walking to my car. I realize that I have no way of knowing if she’ll be able to handle the ride home without an accident, as the vet hasn’t given me any information about what’s wrong or what they’ve given the dog. I turn around, go back into the clinic, and hand the leash back to the woman at the front desk.)
Me: “Here’s [Dog] back. Without knowing any more than I did when I brought her here, I don’t feel comfortable taking her home. I don’t know what she’s had, how to care for her, or what will happen when we get home. Frankly, I don’t know why you’re even releasing her to me if you don’t feel that I have the right to that information. You’ll need to contact [Roommate] to come and get her, if you can get a hold of her at work.”
(I texted my roommate to give her a heads up about the situation, including the name of the woman that I had dealt with at the front desk. Thankfully, she felt I’d made the right move leaving the dog at the clinic and was able to pick her up after work. She also contacted the clinic to express her anger about how they had handled everything, and had my name along with our other roommates’ added to the account.)
Denmark, Health & Body, Lazy/Unhelpful, Patients, School, Teachers | Healthy | April 29, 2019
(I have a fall during gym class when I am about ten years old. Because I have pretty brittle bones and very weak joints — but apparently not enough to warrant getting any kind of diagnosis — I instantly know that I have broken my arm. The fall was pretty minor; I was just running on the soft grass and fell down. I am crying and trying to explain to my teacher that I believe my arm to be broken.)
Me: “My arm hurts. I think it’s broken.”
Teacher: “It isn’t. You can’t break your arm from something so minor.”
(I explain that I have broken many bones before and that I know the feeling of a broken bone. I can tell she still doesn’t believe me, but she does send me down to the office. She doesn’t send anyone with me, though. I walk down there alone and crying, while my arm is swelling more and more. When I get to the office, I try to explain what happened to the secretary.)
Secretary: “Oh, no, what happened to you?”
Me: “I think I broke my arm. I fell out in the field while doing a running exercise.”
Secretary: “You didn’t fall from anything?”
Me: “No.”
Secretary: “It’s not broken, then. I’ll give you some ice for the arm, and then you’ll be better in no time!”
(I put the ice pack on my arm, but it still hurts. I sit and cry silently for about ten minutes in the corner. Even though I am normally very shy and not a fan of conflicts, I am also in a lot of pain. I approach the secretary again.)
Me: “Look. My arm really, really hurts, and the ice pack isn’t cold anymore. Would you please just call my mum?”
Secretary: “Fine! But your arm isn’t broken.”
(Neither of my parents answered their phones. I continued to sit and cry quietly while the secretary sent me sour looks. She finally got through to my dad, but he was delivering merchandise two hours away. My mum worked at another school pretty close to mine, so my dad suggested that the secretary should try to call my mum’s school. The secretary called my mum’s school and had their secretary fetch my mum. Over an hour had passed since I’d hurt my arm, but my mum obviously knew about my brittle bones and came to take me to the hospital within ten minutes of getting the call. My arm was, indeed, broken. When I told my mum of how my teacher and the secretary handled the situation, she was livid. Even though I was supposed to take a few days off after breaking my arm, my mum dragged me down to the principal next morning with my arm in a cast and sling. I told him my story, too, and both the teacher and the secretary got a stern talking-to about how to handle injured students and were asked to apologise to me. They did, and I hope they learnt something about listening to their students regarding their health. Never assume you know somebody’s body better than they do.)
California, Costa Mesa, Jerk, USA, Vet | Healthy | April 29, 2019
(I have a cocker spaniel with a lot of allergies and a skin condition that makes her very itchy. Her regular vet prescribes allergy shots for her. A few times we don’t get to see him but a newly-graduated vet who is working there temporarily. All she does every appointment is to try to refer us to specialists. She does this so much that we are starting to think she is getting kickbacks from them. One time, we get her when we are there for my dog’s allergy shot.)
Vet: “She’s just itchy because she has fleas.”
Mom & Me: “No, she doesn’t.”
Me: “I just checked her this morning. No fleas. And she’s had a bath.”
Vet: *rolling her eyes* “It’s just fleas. She doesn’t need an allergy shot.”
Mom: “Dr. [Regular Vet] prescribed them. We want her allergy shot.”
(We watch as a flea crawling on the vet herself jumps from her to my dog. The vet only sees the flea now.)
Vet: “I told you she had fleas!”
Mom: “We saw that flea crawling on you! Now, we want her allergy shot.”
(The vet continued to argue and tried once again to send us to a specialist, but we finally got the shot, only after a lot of huffing. Mom complained to the regular vet as soon as he was free and told him how this one was always trying to send us to specialists. He seemed rather angry with her when he heard this. We never saw her there again.)
Employees, Great Stuff, Ignoring & Inattentive, Insurance, Lazy/Unhelpful, USA | Healthy | April 29, 2019
(I have medications being filled on a 30-day supply. My insurance company requires me to call every month and verify that I do need the medicine and that my health panel — age, weight, allergies, etc. — is up to date. I made my call earlier this month, letting them know that I would be on vacation when the medications were scheduled to be delivered and asked if they would deliver without requiring a signature. The representative said it was fine and told me that my medicine would arrive while I was gone. I asked my sister to check on the house while I was gone, specifically mentioning the delivery and the rough timeline I was given. When I come home, she tells me that there have been no deliveries. I call my insurance company again.)
Representative #1 : “[Insurance], this is [Rep #1 ] speaking. Can I have your name and policy number, please?”
Me: “Hi, my name is [My Name]; my policy number is [number].”
Representative #1 : “Okay, I have your account here. How can I help you?”
Me: “I was supposed to have some medicine delivered, but nothing has arrived.”
Representative #1 : “Okay, I see here that we attempted to deliver on [date] but there was no one home to sign.”
Me: “I was told I could opt out of the signature because I was out of town.”
Representative #1 : “I can add you on today’s shipment and overnight the medication to you at no additional cost.”
Me: “That’s great!”
Representative #1 : “Okay, I just have to verify your info.” *we go through the same questions I answer every month* “Everything looks good. This will go out today for delivery tomorrow, with a signature required.”
Me: “Thank you!”
(The next day, I’m home all day and nothing comes. Since our package deliveries can come as late as nine pm, I’m stuck waiting all day before I can call back. The day after my delivery was to arrive, I call again. I get a different representative.)
Representative #2 : “[Insurance], this is [Rep #2 ] speaking. Name and policy number?”
Me: “[My Name], [policy number].”
Representative #2 : “Thank you, [My Name]. How can I help you?”
Me: “I spoke with [Representative #1 ] two days ago and was told I would have my medications delivered yesterday but nothing came.”
Representative #2 : “Oh, I’m sorry about that. I see here that you tried to order [medication] on [date before vacation] and we tried to deliver but there was no one to sign.”
Me: “Yes. And I called again and was told it would be here yesterday.”
Representative #2 : “I’m not showing anything like that but we can ship– Oh, wait. There’s a hold on your account for unpaid copays.”
Me: “Unpaid copays? I’ve never received a bill.”
Representative #2 : “You should have received… two.”
Me: “I don’t think I did. Why was I not told of this hold when I called two days ago?”
(I open my online account to see past bills. There is nothing.)
Representative #2 : “I’m not sure, ma’am. I only see a bill for $243 that needs to be paid.”
Me: “I’m confused. I’ve met my out of pocket deductibles. What is the bill for?”
Representative #2 : “One moment, I can look that up for you.” *hold music* “I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m having trouble finding the specific bill.”
Me: “I’m looking at my online account and there’s nothing like that. How do I suddenly owe that much money?”
Representative #2 : “Oh. Um. Hold, please.” *hold music* “Thank you for holding, ma’am. My supervisor is looking into this further. Unfortunately, we cannot authorize your medications until you pay your balance. I can take your credit card info—“
Me: “I’m not paying anything until I have an itemized bill.”
Representative #2 : *huffs* “Hold.” *hold music* “Okay, ma’am, I’ve talked with my supervisor. Your balance is $243. Will that be card or check?”
Me: “That will be nothing until you tell me why I’m paying.”
Representative #2 : *huffs again* “Ma’am. I am trying to work with you here. You owe copays. We cannot fill your prescriptions until you pay in full.”
Me: “And I will happily pay as soon as someone can tell me why I’m paying. I’m looking at my history right now. Not only is there nothing with a copay for the past six months, but all other bills are marked as paid.”
Representative #2 : *clearly annoyed* “Would you like to speak to my supervisor, ma’am?”
Me: “Yes, I would.”
(Hold music.)
Supervisor: “Hello, [My Name]? I’m told you would like to speak to a supervisor. I’m [Supervisor].”
Me: “Yes, thank you. I called almost two weeks ago to have meds delivered. There was a miscommunication and they were not delivered. I called two days ago to have the same meds delivered as of yesterday, but they weren’t. I called today and found that I owe money and [Insurance Company] is withholding my medications until I pay. Nothing in my records shows any unpaid copay, so please tell me what is going on here.”
Supervisor: “I apologize for the inconvenience. Please be patient with me while I look into this further. Can I put you on hold?”
Me: *thinly veiled annoyance* “Yes.”
Supervisor: “Thank you.” *hold music* “Hmm. Ma’am, I apologize. I see the bill, but I’m not finding anything that it could be linked to. Unfortunately, I cannot authorize your prescription to be refilled until this bill is paid.”
Me: “Let me get this straight: your records show that I owe money. Yes?”
Supervisor: “Yes.”
Me: “You will not send my medication until I pay this bill. Correct?”
Supervisor: *uneasy* “Correct…”
Me: “But when I ask why you want me to pay, no one can tell me why. Am I wrong?”
Supervisor: “No, ma’am, you are not wrong.”
Me: “Can you see why I’m annoyed?”
Supervisor: “Yes. Please let me put you on hold one last time.”
Me: “No.”
Supervisor: “Ma’am?”
Me: “I will not be put on hold again. This phone call is already over an hour long. If you cannot tell me why I owe this money, I can only assume it’s a mistake on your end and I’m being billed for someone else’s medication or—“
Supervisor: “We are very thorough in our billing process and—“
Me: “—OR someone is committing insurance fraud and I’ll have to hire a lawyer to get this resolved.”
Supervisor: *panicked* “Um. No, no, that won’t be necessary.” *clicking keyboard* “I will see to it that your medication is shipped out today and I will put an override on the unpaid bill. I will continue to research this and get back to you as soon as I know what is going on. Is your number [phone number]?”
Me: “Yes, it is. Thank you.”
Supervisor: “Thank you, ma’am. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
(My medication was delivered the next day and yes, I signed for it. It’s been two weeks and I still haven’t heard anything about my mystery bill. I guess I’ll have to wait and see what happens when I call for my next refill!)
Behind Every Man Is A Wife Trying To Keep Him Alive
Hospital, Patients, Spouses & Partners, USA | Healthy | April 28, 2019
(One of our patients is a very stubborn gentleman who has broken his hip. He thinks he can get out of bed without help, but he can’t. We instruct him to use his call light but he continues to get out of bed alone. We’re worried he’s going to fall, so we put him on a bed alarm which will automatically alert us if he tries to get up. However, when visiting hours start, it turns out we don’t need it after all…)
Patient’s Wife: “DON’T YOU EVEN THINK OF GETTING OUT OF BED BY YOURSELF! I’VE TOLD YOU A MILLION TIMES, YOU HAVE TO CALL THE GIRLS IF YOU WANT TO GET OUT OF BED!”
(Cue the nurse and I hustling over to his room to respond to the verbal bed alarm.)
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