Just Tell Them They Will Get Dog Breath
Impossible Demands, Stupid, USA, Utah, Vet | Healthy Right | January 20, 2019
(I’m a receptionist for a busy veterinarian office. We have a strict policy of not giving medical advice over the phone for the protection of the patients, as I am not a medical professional; I am a receptionist with zero medical training. A frantic woman calls.)
Caller: “What’s going to happen to me? I used my dog’s toothbrush!”
Me: “I don’t believe anything should happen to you, but if you’re worried, you should call your own doctor for advice.”
Caller: “But don’t you know?! You know about dogs; you should know what will happen to me!”
(Both my other phone lines are now ringing.)
Me: “I cannot give medical advice over the phone. Also, we are a veterinarian. If you need medical advice for people, you need to speak to a human doctor.”
Caller: “But don’t you know? You know about dogs.”
Me: *repeating myself* “I really cannot give medical advice for pets or humans. If you are worried, call your own doctor. Now, I need to answer some other calls.”
Caller: “Okay. I just don’t understand why you can’t tell me what will happen to me.”
(I had to hang up on the woman because she wouldn’t stop whining about it.)
The Fats Fit The Facts
Colorado, Health & Body, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | January 19, 2019
(I am a larger woman, between a size 12-14. I have PCOS which means it can be very hard for me to lose weight. I also exercise four to six days a week (what can I say? I have an endorphin addiction) and eat fairly healthy. I’m just fat, and the weight doesn’t come off unless I absolutely starve myself. Unfortunately, a lot of people don’t believe this, some of which are in the medical industry. Fortunately, my doctor is more than happy with my health. At the beginning of my annual physical, I notice she has gotten a new nurse. The new nurse enters the room, sees me, and stops dead in her tracks. She looks at the file she has with my blood work, and she looks at me. Back to the blood work, back to me.)
Nurse: “Are you [My Name]?”
Me: “Yes.”
(She frowns and excuses herself. Unfortunately for her, she doesn’t close the door all the way, so I can hear her talking to my doctor in the hall. She is telling the doctor she thinks my blood work has gotten mixed up because there is no way I can have the stats I have! My doctor corrects her saying I have a largely healthy body, but all the organs in my lower abdomen hate me. And that was how her nurse learned that fat people sometimes aren’t fat for lack of trying, and that sometimes our stats are just fine, thank you.)
Doesn’t Need A Bank Or A Post Office But A Hospital
Bad Behavior, Bank, Bizarre, England, Health & Body, Patients, UK | Healthy Right | January 19, 2019
(I have been helping a patron set up a direct debit.)
Me: “And is there anything else I can help you with today?”
Patron: “Yes, can I have a packet of first-class stamps?”
Me: “Oh, I’m afraid we don’t offer stamps, but there is a post office just down the road. Just head right as you step outside.”
(Her head does this awkward jerk and she looks around in confusion.)
Patron: “This isn’t a post office?”
Me: “No, it’s a bank.”
(She looks furious, but before she can say anything else, she collapses on the floor. I’m the closest first-aider so I go into action. The door security guard calls 999. It looks like she’s having an epileptic fit, so I try my best to work with my training. I check her handbag for an identity card, but can’t find one. The guard walks over and tells me EMTs are coming just as our manager answers the phone. He looks so confused, but he addresses us.)
Manager: “What’s her name?”
Me: “What? How is that relevant?”
Manager: “I’ve got one of the paramedics on the phone. She’s asking.”
Me: *confused* “[Patron].”
Manager: “It’s [Patron]…” *to me* “She says to put a cushion under her head and check her handbag.”
Me: “Already done. I couldn’t find anything. I don’t know if she’s epileptic.”
(He tells the paramedic.)
Manager: “Was there anything drug-related in the bag? Pills? She’s asking for a colour.”
(I grab the bag and check. There is a small, clear bag in one of the side pockets. I don’t touch it but I can see small, round tablets.)
Me: “They’re pink.”
Manager: “Pin– Oh, they’re already here.”
(Literally as he says this, the EMTs burst through the door, with the woman my manager was speaking to hanging up.)
EMT: “Sorry, once we knew it was [Patron], we knew we had to hurry.”
(I surrender her to the EMTs. After a few minutes and an IV, she comes around. She is laughing and quite jolly with them as they take her away on a gurney.)
EMT: “Thanks for the help. I’ll just need to ask some questions.”
Me: “Sure, but how did you know it was her?”
EMT: “Sweetie, I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve been called out for her. Now we just take it as standard to call ahead when we’re told it’s a middle-aged woman.”
(I really have to commend them. I can’t imagine having to deal with the same woman time and time again as she slowly destroys herself.)
Can’t Even Blame This One On Pregnancy Brain
Canada, Criminal & Illegal, Laboratory, Ontario, Patients, Stupid, Toronto | Healthy Legal Right | January 18, 2019
(My coworker is examining pee samples for a patient. They need to pass the drug test to be able to drive a vehicle for work.)
Coworker: “[My Name], come look at this.”
(He hands me the pee sample and the results.)
Me: “Hmm, well, it says here Mr. [Last Name] is pregnant, so unless he’s trans and it’s not on file, I’d say he cheated.”
(I’d doubted anyone would be stupid enough to have a pregnant woman cheat for them but, as it turns out, he was.)
Just Kill Two Livers With One Drink And Make It An Espresso Martini
California, Health & Body, Medical Office, Patients, Sacramento, Stupid, USA | Healthy Right | January 18, 2019
(I’m assisting our cardiologist today, rooming patients and doing EKGs and such. One patient comes in with a complaint of palpitations. I do an EKG on him which comes out normal, but there’s something off about this guy — he’s practically bouncing off the walls with nervous energy. The cardiologist goes in to see him and I move on to other patients. About half an hour later, they both come out and the patient leaves. The doctor comes over to me with a look of disbelief.)
Doctor: “That guy drinks eighty ounces of coffee a day. Eighty. Eight-zero.”
Me: “Holy cow. No wonder he was jitterier than a junebug.”
Doctor: “And he says he drinks three liters of vodka a week!”
Me: “Oh, my gosh. His poor liver.”
Doctor: “So, obviously, I told him he needs to stop doing that. And you know what he said? He doesn’t want to stop, and he’d rather just take medication for the palpitations!”
If You Want To Stay Sick, Just Cough
Doctor/Physician, Medical Office, South Africa | Healthy | January 18, 2019
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.
(Over the festive season, I had become quite ill for a period of about three-four weeks. I visited my doctor, received medication, and got better; then my partner became ill and I became ill AGAIN three days later and had to go back to my doctor. I visited two different doctors working in the same center. Unfortunately, my visits with them have left me a bit… surprised. On my first visit, my doctor is very young, seems a bit spacey, and is new to this practice. My medical aid receipts show her visits are charged at less than half the rate of your standard doctor’s visit, so I am a bit wary. My previous doctor was INCREDIBLE, but had just emigrated overseas, and this is her new replacement that I was referred to.)
Doctor: “So, what seems to be the problem today?”
Me: “I have [symptoms], but I’m most worried about my cough. I’m coughing to the point that I’m crumpled on the floor, until I can’t breathe, and I’m basically just vomiting air.” *I indicate to my ribs* “It’s so bad that my ribs feel bruised from coughing so hard.”
Doctor: “Hmm… All right, I’m going to prescribe you some antibiotics, and some of this [gastro medicine] for your stomach problem.”
Me: “Wait, what? What stomach problem?”
Doctor: “You pointed to your stomach and said it hurts, so I’m giving you [gastro medicine]!”
Me: “I said my ribs are bruised… from the coughing? My stomach is perfectly fine, but I’m really worried about this cough. It doesn’t feel normal.”
Doctor: “Oh… okay, then. You don’t need this. Instead, I’ll give you this.”
(He highlights the cheapest and most generic brand of cough syrup on the market, that I’ve already finished two of in the days leading up to my visit. The next doctor’s visit is almost two weeks later, with a different doctor in the same center. I’ve bought myself generic over-the-counter cough medicine up until I could visit the doctor again. I wait over half an hour for my appointment, by which time their offices should be closed, before I’m called in. At this stage, my cough has returned, and I have hurt my wrist, as it hurts when I put pressure on it.)
Me: *explains all my symptoms again* “—and I appear to have hurt my wrist. It hurts when I apply pressure; I’m worried it might be sprained.”
Doctor #2 : “Well, that’s simple. Just don’t apply pressure to it, then!”
Me: “All right? And for my cough? It’s really getting worse, and none of my medicine seems to work.”
Doctor #2 : *puts a bottle of a smaller version of the cheapest generic cough medicine on the counter* “You can take this.”
Me: “Um… I’ve had basically four bottles of this in the last three weeks, and it hasn’t worked. I even have a bottle of this in my bag still. Do you not have anything more specialized, for a deep cough like this? My throat is now raw, I still struggle to breathe because it hurts, and my rib area is still bruised.”
Doctor #2 : *huge smile* “Nope! It’s just for symptomatic relief, anyway. This will be fine!”
(I’m still sick, my wrist is still injured, and I’m moving on to my fifth bottle of cough syrup. I’m planning on finding a new doctor soon. For those concerned, the cough syrup is very generic, suitable for toddlers, with no codeine or DXM in it.)
What To Do With The Problem Patients
Medical Office, Stupid, USA | Healthy Right | January 17, 2019
(I am a receptionist for a medical clinic primarily dealing with elderly patients, meaning that they usually need to have everything explained to them slowly and multiple times to fully understand. We have very few patients under 65, and they normally have no problem understanding anything the first time. Or so I thought. This patient calls in after seeing a doctor the previous day.)
Patient: “Hi, I just saw [Doctor] yesterday, and she ordered some labs for me, which I got done, but no one told me what to do next.”
Me: “Oh, I’m sorry about that. Normally after you have blood work done, the doctor will call you if there are any abnormal results, or we can book another appointment for you to go over those results.”
Patient: “Okay, but no one told me what to do. I’m in pain now.”
Me: “I understand, but those are the options for following up with lab results. Would you like to book another appointment?”
Patient: “Look, no one told me what to do!”
Me: *thinking doctor noted followup instructions in visit notes that I can relay to patient* “Can I get your full name and date of birth?”
(The patient gives info and I pull up their chart. The patient is definitely not elderly.)
Me: “I apologize, I’m just looking at the doctor’s notes really quick.”
Patient: “This is so confusing; nobody told me what to do next! What do I do?”
Me: “I don’t see any followup notes in here. Would you like me to book you another appointment with the doctor to discuss your labs when the results are in?”
Patient: “Fine.”
(I check the schedule, but due to a shortage of doctors, we can’t get him in for two weeks.)
Patient: “This is so frustrating; I’m in pain now!”
Me: “I apologize. Would you like me to just have the doctor call you when the results are in?”
Patient: “This is so ridiculous. No one told me what to do and I’m in pain. What do I do?!”
Me: “We can book you an appointment or I’ll just have to doctor call you; which would you prefer?”
Patient: “I don’t know what to do; nobody told me anything! What do I do?!”
Me: “Sir, I’ve told you your options on what we can do. We can book you an appointment or I can have the doctor call you. What would you like to do?”
Patient: “The doctor didn’t tell me; WHAT DO I DO?!”
Me: “Sir, I’ve told you what your options are, so I guess I’m not understanding what you’re asking me. I can book you a followup appointment or just have the doctor call you.”
(After going back and forth like this for a few more minutes, the patient grudgingly decides to book an appointment. After struggling to find a time that works for him, we finally get it scheduled.)
Patient: “So, what do I do if I don’t understand something the doctor said?”
Me: *at this point frustrated to the point of shaking* “You should probably ask for clarification on something that isn’t clear.”
Patient: “So, if I don’t get something, I should ask the doctor or nurse?”
Me: “Yes, you should ask questions if you don’t understand something.”
Patient: “WELL, NOW YOU’RE JUST INSULTING MY INTELLIGENCE!”
Literally Sick Of Your Apathy
Employees, England, Hospital, UK | Healthy | January 17, 2019
(I get very severely sick: throwing up anything I try to keep down and having constant diarrhea. I can barely keep juice down. This is exacerbated by the fact I have costochondritis — the cartilage in my ribcage gets inflamed and swells when I get sick, causing mind-numbing amounts of pain. After three days of this, my family forces me to at least go the local triage center if I won’t go to the doctor. I manage to check in with no problem; there are only a few people there so I figure I’ll get seen pretty quickly. An hour passes with people who were there before me and who came AFTER I came in getting in to see the doctors before me. I’m annoyed but hey, they might have seriously bad injuries I can’t see. Then my stomach lurches and I realise I’m all of a minute away from throwing up again.)
Me: *painfully walking up to the desk holding my ribs and stomach trying not to vomit* “I need the bathroom key.”
Receptionist: *doesn’t even look up from her computer* “No, you don’t. Sit down.”
Me: “I am literally about to projectile vomit. I need the bathroom key now.”
Receptionist: “Sit down. It’ll pass.”
(I barely manage to take another step before I’m forced to bend over and vomit stomach acid and bile on the floor in front of two kids and their mother.)
Woman: “Oh, my god!” *rushes over rubbing my back* “Oh, my god. Are you okay, sweetie?”
Me: *crying and gagging* “Sorry! Sorry, oh, god. I didn’t mean it!” *throws up again*
Woman: “[Son]! Get her some tissues and wipes out of my bag!” *to me* “Oh, it’s okay sweetie; you couldn’t help it.”
(The woman and her son managed to help me clean myself up while the two receptionists did nothing. The nice woman helped me sit down again; after ten minutes someone put a slip hazard over the puddle of my vomit but didn’t bother even trying to clean up. Despite that, it still took another hour for me to finally get seen to and just got some painkillers tossed at me, while told I was imagining my costochondritis and to drink fluids.)
I Don’t Care About You And That’s The Tooth
Dentist, France, Students | Healthy | January 16, 2019
(I’m studying dentistry in France. Like every fourth- to sixth-year students, I work at the dental clinic, which is split into different wards with different dental fields: surgery, emergencies, radiology, etc. The way it is set up is that without A. having been seen in any other ward or B. a letter of referral from your dentist, we cannot remove your tooth, no matter how adamant you are on wanting to have it removed. We’re supervised by professors and have to get an OK from them to do anything, but we do all the work. Unlike most of my fellow students, I don’t take crap from anyone and am not scared to talk back to disrespectful or unruly patients. That led to me being called to talk to them every time one of my friends feel like they can’t handle it and don’t want to call a professor just because of that. Late one afternoon, a guy comes up to the surgery ward wanting us to remove one of his teeth. A friend briefly talks to him then comes and gets me because the guy refuses to understand what he’s telling him.)
Patient: “You gotta remove it! It hurts so bad!”
Me: “I get it, but I just looked at your file and it’s the first time you’ve ever been here. We don’t even have an X-ray or anything. We can’t risk removing anything without one. We don’t know if we can even keep it! It would be a shame to remove a ‘keepable’ tooth. Go to the emergency ward and check with them. If we can’t keep it, then you just come back up and I’ll remove it personally. You’ve got just enough time to squeeze in. They’re gonna close the admissions in, like, ten minutes, but if you get there before, they’ll see you. I’ll even make sure we keep the surgery ward open in case you come back up to us.”
Patient: “But it hurts! I want you to remove it now! I can’t wait at the emergency ward!”
(It should be noted that non-traumatic dental emergencies take weeks, if not months to develop. I have very little patience for people who come in after years of neglecting their dental hygiene and command me to do anything right this instant.)
Me: “I just told you, you have to go down to the emergency ward. They’ll X-ray it and if we have to remove it, I’ll do it. It won’t take more than thirty minutes, wait time included. They’re not especially busy at the moment, and neither are we.”
Patient: “Look into my mouth! If you’re really studying dentistry, you’ll know it can’t be kept!”
Me: “Oh, actually, I’m a liberal arts major doing an unpaid internship. I’m not studying dentistry or anything. I can’t help you. Either you get it X-rayed and you come back, or you can go home, take a big pair of pliers, and remove it yourself, for all I care.”
(He did go and get it X-rayed and it indeed had to be removed, which I obviously could tell before, but I wasn’t able to bend the rules. And even if I were, I wouldn’t have done it for an impolite bastard like him. Of course, if it had been a life or death situation that couldn’t have waited fifteen minutes, I would have done something for him. It wasn’t one of those.)
Casting You In A Bad Way
Denmark, Hospital, Nurses | Healthy | January 15, 2019
(When I was younger, I kept breaking my arms and legs. This takes place during that period. I think that I was about six years old. I break my right leg during gym class and go to the hospital with my parents. I go through the whole process of having doctors look disbelievingly at me, because surely my leg couldn’t be broken from such a minor fall; I have extremely brittle bones. However, the x-rays confirm that my leg is indeed broken and that I will need a cast. Right after the nurse has finished putting my cast on
Nurse: “All done. You can go to your own doctor in six weeks to have the cast removed.”
Me: *looking at my mum* “Mum, why is it my other leg that hurts?”
(The nurse had put the cast on the wrong leg! I can’t really blame her though. it was pretty late, and she was probably tired and overworked. I was tired, too. That is probably why I didn’t speak up about it being the wrong leg sooner.)
Can’t Nurse That Gender Stereotype
Bigotry, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Nurses, Slovenia | Healthy | January 14, 2019
(In Slovenia, as elsewhere, the schools to become a doctor or a nurse are different; medical faculty to become a doctor and faculty of health sciences to become a nurse and other health-related professions. I am a woman, studying to become a doctor and attending medical faculty, wearing a badge saying so when in a hospital. I can’t explain how much every time I have this conversation stresses me out.)
Patient: *always a male, sees the badge* “Oh, so you are still in school?”
Me: “Oh, yes, I’m close to finishing medicine actually.”
(We usually use “medicine” instead of “medical faculty”.)
Patient: “So you’re going to be a nurse soon?”
(Or
Random Person: *after finding out I’m still a student* “So what are you studying?”
Me: “Medicine, close to being done actually!”
Random Person: “Oh, so why do you want to be a nurse?”
(This always happens with men. Never women. It’s happened to me over twenty times already and I hear the same stories from other female students. I usually try to gently correct them and most are genuinely confused, but you can imagine how the conversation continues with those that are convinced women should only be nurses.)
Just A Spoonful Of Forcefulness Makes The Medicine Go Down
Bad Behavior, Doctor/Physician, Florida, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | January 13, 2019
(I am seventeen years old and visiting a doctor with my dad concerning my severe anxiety problems. My dad has resisted taking me to see any therapy or psychiatry specialists for a long time, but has finally relented after realizing the issues I’ve been having aren’t just “hormones.” To my knowledge, this isn’t at a psychiatrist’s office, but a regular doctor — I think for insurance purposes. The first visit results in an anti-depressant medication for some reason. This first medication makes me less anxious but also causes me to sleep upwards of FIFTEEN HOURS a day, and I am incoherent and running into things, falling over, etc., within twenty minutes of taking it each day. I even have difficulty getting up out of a chair to walk the ten feet to my bed after taking it. I remember falling constantly and being hazy. The second visit results in a different medication that doesn’t have any noticeable effect, and also no real side effects, either. This third visit is the check-in to see how the [second medication] was working.)
Me: “I don’t know that these are working properly. I don’t feel anything different. I’m still anxious all the time.”
Doctor: “So. This medication isn’t working. Why are you depressed? Your mother — she loves you? Your father loves you? Think of happy things.”
Me: “Um. I’m not depressed. I have anxiety problems with insomnia and persistent heart palpitations.”
Doctor: “Okay, so, this medicine isn’t working. We’ll switch back to [first medicine]. [First medicine] worked.”
Me: “It… didn’t work, though. I wasn’t anxious because I was really sedated. I was sleeping almost the entire day and night.”
Doctor: “Yes. So, first medicine worked. Here’s a prescription.”
Me: “I’m not taking that again. It was awful.”
Doctor: “It worked. You will take [first medicine] again.”
Me: “No.”
(The doctor then ignores me completely and turns to my dad, instead.)
Doctor: *oddly firm and creepy* “The [first medicine] worked. She will take it.”
Dad: *pause* “Yeah, okay. Give me the script.”
(My dad took the script and we trashed it when we got to the car. It had gotten to the point where my dad was concerned the doctor was going to claim parental negligence and call CPS on him if he agreed with me! We never went back to that doctor again, and I’ve since had a lot of traditional therapy and am doing much better. Did I mention that doctor owned the pharmacy attached to his office? Shocker.)
Way Past Due For Some Bedside Manners
Dallas, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Jerk, Texas, USA | Healthy | January 12, 2019
(I am pregnant with my firstborn. After a great deal of reading up on the subject and a conversation with my uncle, a prominent obstetrician, we decide to use a certified nurse-midwife and a birthing center. Unfortunately, the due date comes and goes, despite multiple efforts at bringing on labor naturally, including walks, cohosh, and cod-liver oil. Finally, the midwife sets it up for us to go to the nearby hospital for some Pitocin to be applied topically. By this point, I’ve been lying on a table in a cubicle for several hours and am already stressed out because of the overdue baby and because I’ve had to go to the hospital. I am sure they will make me stay, and I don’t want that. Finally, a resident walks in. He pokes around for a bit.)
(The resident walks out. By now, I’m hysterical. Thankfully, the midwife phones right that minute to check on me. I blubber out what the resident said about the cervix.)
Midwife: “She just means that it’s off to the side right now. It will move into position as part of labor.”
(I still think that the first resident’s completely gratuitous information was because he was annoyed that he wouldn’t get to do a delivery. The kicker? My contractions started the minute we were in the parking deck on our way out of there. Our son was born about nine hours later, in the birthing center, with the midwife.)
No Meat In Your Diet Or In His Brain
Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Medical Office, UK | Healthy | January 11, 2019
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.
(I have a health plan provided by my employer. One of the benefits of the plan is a yearly health check. Once all is complete, I get a call from a “medical professional” to go over the results. I’m pretty healthy except for a bad cholesterol level. After talking on the phone about the rest of the results and my diet preferences, we get to my cholesterol.)
Medical Professional: “Based on the results from the blood sample, we have noticed that you have a very high bad cholesterol level.” *explains the difference between good and bad cholesterol* “…so we really do need to try and bring your bad cholesterol down. We can do this through medication and by controlling your diet. I would start with reducing the amount of red meat and dairy you consume.
Me: “I’m vegetarian, so I don’t eat meat, and I have an allergy to dairy.”
Medical Professional: “That’s good, very good. That’s a good start to reduce your meat intake, and the dairy, like cheese.”
Me: “Well, I’m vegetarian, so my meat intake is zero; I’ve been vegetarian for around twenty years. I’m also lactose intolerant and have an allergy which means I haven’t eaten cheese, milk, or any other dairy, like cream, in about ten years.”
Medical Professional: “Great, so that’s great. It’s settled; you will reduce your red meat and dairy.”
Me: “I haven’t eaten meat in twenty years, and I’ve been allergic to dairy for over ten years.”
Medical Professional: “So, you’ll reduce your meat and dairy? With your cholesterol being so high, I really do think you should consider some diet changes and reduce the intake of meat and dairy.”
(Pause.)
Me: “Could you please help me to understand how to reduce meat and dairy when I haven’t eaten any meat in over twenty years and I haven’t eaten dairy in over ten?”
(After about two or three minutes of being on hold
Medical Professional: “I think you should arrange an appointment with your doctor to go over these results, as you aren’t listening my advice.”
(Two weeks later in the doctor’s office
Doctor: “You should reduce your intake of meat and dairy.”
Me: “I’m vegetarian; I haven’t eaten meat in twenty years and I have a dairy allergy.”
Doctor: “Well, in that case, let’s go through what other options are available for you.”
The 1950s Called; They Want Their Medical Results
Bigotry, Hospital, Jerk, Kentucky, Nurses, Strangers, Students, USA | Friendly Healthy | January 10, 2019
(My husband is having a day-long series of medical tests at a Veterans Administration hospital in Kentucky. I drove him there, so I am camping out in the waiting room working on some homework on my laptop for the supply chain management courses I am taking online. I have been working for about an hour and a half when I am approached by an elderly man.)
Elderly Man: “What are you doing on that computer?”
Me: “I am a Transportation and Logistics Management student at [Well-Respected Online college]. I am working on the homework for my supply chain management courses.”
Elderly Man: “Why aren’t you going to nursing school?! Nursing is the only respectable occupation for a woman!”
Me: “What? I can’t qualify for nursing school because I had a stroke a few years ago and my right hand is partially paralyzed.”
(I hold up my right hand and show that I can only use my middle finger and thumb.)
Elderly Man: “But you could be a nurse if you tried harder! Why are you playing with that silly supply chain management stuff? Only men do that!”
Me: “I also have an active Class-A commercial driver’s license to drive tractor trailers.” *reaches into my purse to pull out my license* “I like transportation!”
Elderly Man: “But nurses are so sweet! You should be sweet like a nurse!” *motions to one of the VA nurses*
(The VA nurse chimes in
VA Nurse: “I wouldn’t want her as a nurse with that hand of hers. She would never pass nursing school, anyway. I have met [My Name] before, and that woman is planning on going to law school after she finishes her bachelor’s degree because of the way she has argued her husband’s VA disability claim.”
Elderly Man: “How disgraceful! A woman working as a truck driver and wanting to become a lawyer! Why can’t women be sweet and realize their place in the world?!”
(I put my earbuds on and cranked some Bon Jovi on my laptop and tried to ignore the old coot until he was called for his appointment.)
He’s Got A Bad Case Of The Clap
Ignoring & Inattentive, Maine, Medical Office, Patients, USA | Healthy Right | January 9, 2019
(My husband is the customer in this one. He’s at his appointment to check his numbers for high blood pressure to see if he would be okay on his current prescription or not. While it’s important to note that he doesn’t have a hearing problem, he does tend to not listen, and sometimes it can be rather amusing.)
Doctor: “Now, breathe deeply.”
Husband: *does so*
Doctor: “Cough.”
Husband: “Clap?”
Doctor: “Cough.”
Me: “She said, ‘cough,’ dear.”
Husband: “Clap?” *claps*
(All three of us started laughing. The doctor admitted it made her day. I’ve teased him since about putting this online.)
Your Body Needs To Literally Eat Itself Before You Can Take A Break
Bosses & Owners, Canada, Doctor/Physician, Jerk, New Brunswick, Retail | Healthy Working | January 8, 2019
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.
(I have Dermatomyositis. It’s a rather rare autoimmune disease, best simplified as: without medication, my immune system eats my muscle tissue. When the more worrying symptoms appear, my doctor has me go in for a rushed blood test — ten vials — first thing in the morning, and then tries to call me at work that afternoon after she gets the results. I am working at a store, on cash, ringing through customers, and I hear the service desk page the cash supervisor several times over the course of maybe a half-hour, telling her she has a call waiting on the line. I notice the frequency of the pages.)
Me: *thinking* “Wow, I hope she doesn’t have a family emergency.”
(At one point, the cash supervisor comes up to me while I’m in the middle of a transaction and tells me to turn my light off, then stands in front of my counter behind the customer to make sure no one else comes up to my till. Once the customer is rung through and out the door, she hands me a piece of paper with my doctor’s phone number and says I need to call her. My doctor wants to see me right away, which I explain to my supervisor, and she lets me go. I cab down to my doctor, and she tells me I most likely have Dermatomyositis — later confirmed by a muscle biopsy — gives me a prescription, and puts me on sick leave for six weeks, because she wants me to take it easy so that the damaged muscles can heal. All those times I had heard paging for my supervisor to pick up the phone over the course of a half-hour? That had been my doctor trying to get a hold of me, and it took a long time before my supervisor finally answered. Here’s roughly how the conversation went, according to my doctor
Doctor: “This is [Doctor], and I need to speak to [My Name].”
Supervisor: “Is this an emergency?”
Doctor: “I am a doctor wanting to speak to my patient. YES, it’s an emergency
BMI = Bad Model For Increase
Florida, Jerk, Middle School, Nurses, Patients, USA | Healthy | January 7, 2019
(At the end of seventh grade, I am sent home with a letter from the school nurse stating that my BMI is too high, I’m therefore overweight, and I need to be seen by my pediatrician. My pediatrician tells my mother that since I am extremely active, my diet is healthy, and my weight gain is obviously due to an impending growth spurt, to not worry about the weight for now. Over summer break I grow five inches taller. At this point, I’m looking rather scrawny, as it happens when children have large growth spurts. When school starts back up, I get called back into the school nurse’s office. She starts questioning me as to whether everything is all right at home, how is school, am I making friends, am I getting bullied, etc. She finally gets around to the point that she believes I have an eating disorder! I start laughing.)
Me: “Are you joking? I weigh 150 pounds! You said I was fat three months ago!”
School Nurse: “There is no way you weigh 150 pounds. You’ve obviously been starving yourself to get thin. It’s not healthy to do this to yourself.”
Me: “I’m a runner and play other sports. I grew five inches taller over the summer. I haven’t lost any weight. Got a scale? I’ll prove it.”
(I got on the scale and, lo and behold, I actually weighed 155 pounds. The school nurse thought there was something wrong with it and weighed herself. She weighed me again and realized that it was correct! She couldn’t resolve in her head that at 5’4” and 155 pounds I looked underweight due to my muscle mass versus body fat percentage. She called my mother, at which point my mother yelled at her to
Health Care(less), Part 4
Awesome, Doctor/Physician, Insurance, Maryland, Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, USA | Healthy | January 5, 2019
In the spring of 2000, I came down with a cold that lingered nearly two weeks, then got weird. I went to see the doctor and she ordered several tests to be done at the hospital next door to the office building.
It was there that I was told that one of the tests she wanted done — a pulse oximeter reading — required pre-approval from my insurance company, which would take about three days to go through the process.
When I told my doctor about that, she was furious. It was a fairly simple test, but her office did not have the necessary equipment. Once she had a break between patients, she marched over to the hospital and spoke to a friend who worked in the emergency department. She then brought my husband and me through the back hallways to her friend, who placed a clip that looked like a clothespin on my finger. In a couple of seconds, the nearby machine showed the necessary data and I was finished with the test in less than five minutes. I was never billed for it.
It turned out that I had pneumonia. I was sent home with the needed prescriptions and instructions. I was back to normal in a few days.
The next time I went to that doctor, she told me that the office had acquired their own equipment.
It’s now eighteen years later, and her office has several of them. I noticed this morning that you can buy one online for about the price of two fast-food hamburger dinners. And the insurance company had wanted three days before approving the procedure!
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