Taking A Page Out Of Jean Milburn’s Book
EDITORS' CHOICE, FUNNY, HEALTH & BODY, HOSPITAL, PARENTS/GUARDIANS, RUDE & RISQUE, UK | HEALTHY | SEPTEMBER 4, 2020
My mother is a retired midwife. I was raised with a clear understanding of motherhood and everything it entails. As a ten-year-old boy, I would read her professional magazines. I could have an intelligent conversation about menopause or explain an epidural. Then, in my early teens, this happens.
Mum: “Hey, [My Name]. How are you? You won’t believe what happened last night. We had a model breast.”
Me: “A model— Wait, what?”
Mum: “We had some professional development training to do in breastfeeding, and they had a model breast for it.”
Me: “Er, model breast?”
Mum: “A model of a boob; it’s supposed to imitate a functioning boob. It came complete with a nipple that dispenses a liquid.”
Me: “Right… but almost all midwives are women. Aren’t there enough boobs in a maternity hospital for this to be obvious?”
Mum: “We all thought that, so we repurposed the training boob.”
Me: “I— Wait, what? A model boob was supplied to your colleagues for training and… Where is it now?”
Mum: “In the bathroom.”
Me: “Model breast in our bath… huh?”
Mum: “Since we didn’t need it, we reused it as a soap dispenser.”
Me: “I… What?”
Mum: “We obviously didn’t need it, so we might as well put it to good use. So, we glued it to the wall of the staff bathroom and added liquid soap. Press the nipple and soap comes out.”
An Im-Patient Doctor
CANADA, CURRENT EVENTS, DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, JERK, MANITOBA | HEALTHY | NOVEMBER 1, 2020
At eighteen, I was diagnosed with ADHD. Over the years, I’ve used different coping mechanisms to stay organized to varying degrees of effectiveness. I probably could have benefited from medications but felt like it wasn’t affecting my life too negatively.
Once the global health crisis hit, I was laid off.
When my industry reopens, the myriad of new regulations, sanitizing steps, changes to daily practice, and dealing with the public who may or may not have strong opinions on the rules all lead to my stress levels rising and my ADHD becoming more unmanageable. Brain fog and memory issues rise through the roof. Now, at thirty-six years old, I’ve decided to talk to a psychiatrist to look into medication options.
These are some highlights from my very frustrating two-hour appointment where I feel like I am defending the legitimacy of my diagnosis.
Doctor: “Your teachers never complained about you?”
Me: “No, but I still struggled in my classes.”
Doctor: “No one talked to your parents and your teachers never complained, so it couldn’t have been that bad.”
Also:
Doctor: “You studied subjects that required a lot of academic focus in college. So it couldn’t have been that bad.”
Me: “I ended up dropping out because I couldn’t maintain my GPA. I only did well in the classes I liked and needed for my degree. I failed the mandatory Bible classes everyone had to take.”
Bible college was a bad choice.
Also:
Doctor: “Do you ever have issues with distractibility?”
Me: “Sometimes I forget I’m hungry and I go all day without eating. Suppertime rolls around and I can’t figure out why I’m starving, and then I realize I might not have eaten at all that day.”
Doctor: “GOOD FOR YOU!”
Also:
Me: “My work has been really affected. All the new rules and regulations because of the health crisis have caused me to forget a lot of important things and it’s causing my performance to suffer.”
Doctor: “The crisis has changed everyone’s jobs. Your job isn’t that hard, anyway, not like a secretary. You don’t even need to concentrate that hard, not like a secretary.”
Also:
Doctor: “So why did you look for a diagnosis? Who referred you?”
Me: “My dad and my little sister both have it. I’ve had many of the same issues as my sister. She was diagnosed with dyslexia in kindergarten and they found out about her ADHD during those tests. At the time, I was just the chatty, loud, fidgety kid. I flew under the radar until years later when I realized I probably had it, as well. That’s why I looked into it.”
Doctor: “So why did you go looking for a diagnosis?”
Me: “Because it ran in my family? As I said, I already have a dad and sister with it, and I wanted to know before I went to college so I could be prepared during exams if I needed academic accommodations.”
I was close to tears a couple of times, and after I hung up, I realized I had been on the phone with him for two hours. I was so frustrated and upset. I talked with some friends about what happened and they all told me I should make a complaint.
I contacted my hospital’s Patient Experience Liaison as soon as I felt mentally ready. After an investigation, they found that I got an accurate assessment but his tone and wording did need to be addressed.
The doctor approached me and said he was sorry that I’d had such a negative experience and would use my complaints to focus on self-improvements. The director of the unit said my experience would be used to help teach students the importance of proper communication.
It’s in my file that I will never be scheduled with that doctor again.
There might not have been drastic changes, but I’m happy it’s on his record, and I hope that if others have issues with him, they also file reports.
Probably Something Like “Funny Meme Go Brrr”
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, ILLINOIS, MEDICAL OFFICE, USA | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 8, 2021
I’m at my yearly wellness visit. I’ve been having an eczema flare that is showing up on my eyelids. It has never shown up there before, so I figure I’ll ask my doctor what I can use on it. However, he’s decided that something on his laptop is more important than my appointment.
Doctor: *Staring at his laptop* “So, no concerns today?”
Me: “Uh, no. I do have one.”
Doctor: “Uh-huh.”
Me: “I think my main concern today is my eczema.”
Doctor: *Typing something* “Uh-huh.”
Me: “It’s showing up on my eyelids. It’s never done that before. Is that normal?”
Doctor: *Still typing* “Put some steroid cream on it.”
Me: “On my eyelids?!”
No response.
Me: “Are you listening to me?”
Doctor: *Looks up* “Did you say something?”
I sigh loudly.
Me: “I have eczema on my eyelids. It’s very itchy. What facial moisturizer do you recommend?”
Doctor: “You can use steroid cream on your eyelids.”
Me: “But the tube says not to.”
Doctor: *Starts typing again* “Steroid cream. It’ll clear it right up. Now, if we’re done here…”
I do not put steroid cream on my eyelids. I make an appointment with my eye doctor and tell him the issue.
Me: “…and I did bring it up to my primary care doctor, but all he said was to put steroid cream on it. It’s on my eyelids!”
My eye doctor literally drops his pen and notepad and stares at me.
Eye Doctor: “You didn’t actually put steroid cream on your eyelids, did you?!”
Me: “Of course not. The tube says not to.”
Eye Doctor: “Good. The eyelid skin is much too thin for that. I recommend an unscented facial moisturizer or hydrating eye cream. [Brand] is good for sensitive skin. Geez, what was your doctor thinking?!”
Wrap This Person In Bubble Wrap! Part 2
BIZARRE, HEALTH & BODY, HOME, NORTHERN IRELAND, UK | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 6, 2021
CONTENT WARNING: Major Injury
All through my life, I have been accidentally injuring myself in spectacular ways. The fact that I have balance and coordination problems as a result of ASD and Dyspraxia doesn’t help. At school, the teachers knew me as “the girl who’s always getting hurt.” I have so many stories about me getting injured that it would be impossible to share them all here, but here’s one of the worse ones.
This was about two years ago when I was nineteen years old, on the night of my sister’s sixteenth birthday. My sister and I don’t get on, so my mother and I agreed that I could spend the evening in my room. I was happy enough, as I don’t really cope well with lots of people around, and anyway, none of my sister’s friends liked me.
I was sitting in my room playing a game on my computer, and I got up to use the bathroom. As I slid out from between my desk and my chair, my foot must have gotten caught in a cable, because I tripped. I fell and smacked face-first into a set of bookshelves, smashing my glasses. My hands, forearms, and knees hit the wooden floor with full force. My mother, hearing the loud crash, came rushing in to find me sprawled on the floor, blood pouring from my nose, unable to use my arms to push myself upright. She did her best to stop the bleeding from my nose and then decided that it would be prudent to take me to the hospital.
A couple of x-rays later and the extent of my injuries was shocking. I’d broken my nose in three places; the pain was so bad that I felt sick. I’d broken my left radius and ulna in six places and shattered my left thumb. I’d broken my right wrist in two places and three fingers on my right hand. After an overnight stay in hospital, I went for surgery the following morning and was kept in again overnight.
My mother came to pick me up from the hospital and, according to her, I “looked a real sight.” I had two black eyes and bruising on my cheeks, and my nose was in a cast. My left arm was casted from my fingers up past my elbow, and I had a cast on my thumb. My right arm had a cast covering my three broken fingers and running along my arm until just before my elbow. My knees were bruised, and although not broken, it was painful to bend them.
As I walked out of the hospital with my two arms in slings, it occurred to me that I wouldn’t be able to do much for myself for the next few weeks. Plus, I’ve been deaf and non-speaking since birth and I use sign language, so I knew I’d have to get by with nodding and shaking my head. I hated needing my mother to feed me, wash me, and dress me, but what could I do? I told myself that at least I could still walk…
And then two weeks later, I fell down the stairs, broke my leg, and ended up confined to bed anyway!
By The Pricking Of My Thumbs, Something Hilarious This Way Comes
ENGLAND, FUNNY, HOSPITAL, LONDON, RUDE & RISQUE, UK, WORDPLAY | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 4, 2021
Back in the 1960s, when I am a young man of seventeen going on eighteen, I work in the medical laboratory of the local teaching hospital. One of my regular jobs is to go round the wards collecting blood samples for pre-op testing.
I am in the day-room of the gynaecological ward collecting blood from twenty to thirty ladies. One of the younger ones is very obviously extremely nervous. One of the older ladies speaks up.
Older Lady: “Don’t worry about him, love; it’s only a little prick.”
I blushed the colour of a beetroot and suddenly everyone, except me, was much more relaxed.
A Stroke Of Brilliance
DATE, ENGLAND, HOSPITAL, LONDON, STUPID, UK | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 2, 2021
After a transient event, I end up being investigated for stroke. I receive a letter from the neurology department about my next appointment.
Letter: “Unfortunately, we have had to change your outpatient clinic appointment. It was previously scheduled for 16 May at 15:00. We are very sorry we had to do this. Your new appointment is: Date: 16 May, Time: 15:00.”
And they are investigating ME for a stroke?
Seriously, it’s a good thing I hadn’t had one. I don’t know how someone struggling with a cognitive deficit might deal with this.
You’d Butter Forget Those Old Wives’ Tales
ADVICE, DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, FRIENDS, HOME, ILLINOIS, STUPID, USA | HEALTHY | JANUARY 31, 2021
One Christmas Eve, when I was eleven, I decided to make myself some tea. I put a pan of water on the stove and tried to turn on the burner on our gas stove. The burner wasn’t igniting and so I moved the pan and bent over to check if the pilot went out. Just as I bent over, the burner flared to life and caught my hair and my ear on fire.
I panicked and ran screaming into our front room where my mom was visiting with a friend. My mom stood up and literally smacked the fire out with her hand.
Mom’s Friend: “Put butter on it!”
My mom ignored her and got a wet, cool washcloth for me to put on it.
Mom’s Friend: “[Mom], you should put butter on it.”
After about a minute, my mom took a look at my ear and made the decision to take me to the hospital.
Mom’s Friend: “She doesn’t need a hospital, just butter.”
No butter was used and we went to the hospital. I was seen fairly quickly and it turned out that I had second- and third-degree burns on my ear. Normally, they would want to admit someone with the burns I had, just to be safe, but since it was a holiday and I was a kid, they let me go home with some special burn cream and painkillers.
Before we left, my mom mentioned to the doctor how her friend kept telling her to put butter on the burn. He was aghast. He wrote a note on the paper they used for sick notes for my mom’s friend detailing why not to put butter on a burn. I was kind of out of it when I got home, so I don’t know if my mom ever gave her friend that note, but I don’t remember her ever saying to put butter on a burn again.
Third Nurse Is The Charm!
IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, ILLINOIS, LAZY/UNHELPFUL, MEDICAL OFFICE, NURSES, USA | HEALTHY | JANUARY 30, 2021
This story is pre-health crisis. One morning, I wake up with a sore throat. I assume I have the beginning of a cold and go on with my day. However, the sore throat does not go away. It gets worse over a twenty-four-hour period to the point where I can hardly swallow, and I develop a fever. I call my doctor’s office because in the past, this has indicated strep, and I make sure to tell the receptionist this. They tell me to come in right away.
I do so, and they take me into an exam room. I’m met by a nurse I’ve never seen before. This is normal, as there’s a nursing college nearby, and my doctor gets a lot of their recent grads.
Nurse #1 : “Okay, we’re gonna do some bloodwork to check you for mono.”
The nurse preps me for bloodwork. I am used to needles, as I have a chronic illness that requires frequent labs. However, this is a disaster. She attempts to stick me and misses the vein. Then, she starts digging around UNDER THE SKIN with the needle to attempt to hit the vein. I whimper.
Me: “Oh, I get plenty of bloodwork. Check my chart. I’m not used to someone digging under my skin with a needle. Ow! Can you stop?! I don’t think you’re gonna find the vein that way!”
She finally pulls it out and bandages it up.
Nurse #1 : “I guess that vein wasn’t big enough! Let me get [Nurse #2 ].”
[Nurse #2 ], whom I’ve also never seen before, walks in, and with no warning, attempts to stick me in the same arm. She also misses the vein. She pulls the needle out of my arm and jabs me again in the same spot, harder. I shriek.
Me: “Ouch! Seriously?!”
Nurse #2 : “Have you ever had blood drawn before, sweetie?”
I shoot her a look.
Me: “I have [chronic illness], so I have labs twice a year. Did any of you look at my chart?”
Nurse #2 : “Oh. Your veins are very stubborn. Have they had trouble getting blood from you before?”
Me: “No. Never. Is there someone else that can help me?”
They get a third nurse, who has done my labs several times.
Nurse #3 : “You stuck her three times in one arm?! The answer is obvious. Use her other arm, and don’t stab her, either! I heard her scream down the hall!”
She leaves, grumbling under her breath. Thankfully, they take her advice. [Nurse #1 ] and [Nurse #2 ] then decide to test me for the flu which, as many of us know, is a very long swab up the nose. And they JAM it up my nose. So, now my nose, arm, and throat are throbbing.
Me: “Hey, um, is [Doctor] gonna look at my throat at all?”
Nurse #1 : “He wants to start with this. Test results should be in tomorrow. You can go home now.”
I go home. The next day, I feel worse. The doctor’s office calls and says that both tests were negative.
Me: “Okay, but I’m still sick. Can I come back for a strep test?”
Nurse #2 : “[Doctor] says that if you’re still sick after ten days, call us. Then he’ll talk about an antibiotic.”
I live off soft foods, warm liquids, cough drops, and Aleve until day six when I can’t take it anymore. I can swallow a bit more, but I still have a high fever and my throat still hurts. I’ve also developed joint pain. I call the doctor back in tears. I finally get [Nurse #3 ], who apologizes and says she will speak with the doctor. She calls back a couple of hours later.
Nurse #3 : “Okay, [My Name], [Doctor] has recommended an antibiotic. I called it in and put a rush on it. I know you’re feeling pretty miserable and you’ve been waiting a long time. I’m so sorry about that. I’m not sure why they made you wait.”
Me: “Thank you!”
I felt A LOT better within a couple of days of starting the antibiotic.
His Frustration Level Is Rising…
EDITORS' CHOICE, IMPOSSIBLE DEMANDS, PHARMACY, USA, UTAH | HEALTHY | JANUARY 29, 2021
It’s a couple of days before New Year’s, and our pharmacy has a ton of requests to doctors from everyone trying to get their prescriptions refilled before the new year starts. My coworker is telling us about a phone call she’s just had with a patient.
Coworker #1 : “Oh, man, he was mad. He wanted a refill and the prescription is expired. We’ve already sent three or four requests to the doctor, but they haven’t responded yet. I don’t know what else he wanted me to do! I can’t make your doctor refill your [medication for erectile dysfunction]!”
Coworker #2 : “I guess his year isn’t going out with a bang!”
Nope, Still Terrifying
BIZARRE, DENTIST, MARYLAND, PATIENTS, USA | HEALTHY | JANUARY 28, 2021
My wife has had some persistent issues with gum infections ever since having an extremely severe jaw injury. It was probably about as bad as a jaw could be injured. Despite this, she had relatively minor scarring, and many people do not immediately realize that she has major injuries just when looking at her.
The two of us go to the dentist together, each with our own appointments. I just have a basic cleaning, but my wife will be having a root canal done. The dentist, who we have been going to for years now, has a new assistant. She finishes with me fairly quickly, just in time to witness the dentist go straight from talking to drilling into my wife’s tooth, without the use of any anesthetic whatsoever.
She is immediately horrified. I think the dentist decides to mess with her a bit, as he just tells her:
Dentist: “[Wife] is pretty tough. She can handle it.”
My wife responded with a thumbs-up.
The dentist initially just went back to work, but relented after a few seconds and let the assistant know that my wife actually had no use for local anesthetic for this because she’s actually already completely numb. The root canal was in her lower jaw. The jaw has a nerve running through the bone on each side, and her injury had completely destroyed these nerves, leaving a complete lack of any sensation from her lower jaw including gums, lower lip, and part of her cheeks and chin.
The Uterus Knows All
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, JERK, MEDICAL OFFICE, USA, UTAH | HEALTHY | JANUARY 27, 2021
When I was pregnant with my first child, I 100% knew that it was a girl, and she was, but had no idea with my second baby, who happened to be a boy. When I got pregnant with my third child, I was once again sure that it was a girl. We are living in a different city so this is my first experience with this particular doctor.
We go in to check for the baby’s sex.
Doctor: “Are we hoping for a girl or for a boy?”
Me: “I know this baby is a girl.”
Doctor: “Congratulation s! It’s a boy!”
Me: “Nope.”
Doctor: “Um, what?”
Me: “I know that this is a girl.”
Doctor: “Noooo… it’s a boy. You can see why right here.”
Me: “No. It’s for sure a girl.”
The doctor has clearly never been in this situation before.
Doctor: “Um, well, I guess that could be the umbilical cord but I’m 97% sure that it isn’t.”
Me: “I’m sorry to challenge you, but I seriously know that this baby is a girl.”
Doctor: *Grumbling* “I guess we can wait a few weeks and do another ultrasound. But it will be a waste of time, for you and me.”
Me: “Let’s do that.”
Two weeks later, we went back and did another ultrasound. It was a girl. We didn’t use him for delivery. I couldn’t use a doctor who wouldn’t at least entertain the possibility that I was right.
Everyone Has Two Voice Settings: “Normal” And “Customer Service”
MEDICAL OFFICE, PENNSYLVANIA, PITTSBURGH, RECEPTION, SIBLINGS, USA | HEALTHY | JANUARY 25, 2021
When I need to find a new primary care physician, my sister, who’s a medical assistant, strongly recommends one of the doctors she works for. I accept — and she turns out to be the greatest PCP I’ve ever had, but I digress.
I don’t know if this is the law or their office’s policy, but my sister explains to me from the beginning that she’s not allowed to have anything to do with my treatment; she can’t look at my chart, she can’t room me when I come in, she can’t talk to me on the phone, etc.
Okay, rules are rules. I almost never have to call the office anyway — you call the network’s central line to make appointments, not the office directly — but I figure if she ever answers, I’ll simply say, “It’s [My Name],” and wait for her to put someone else on the line.
There comes a day where I call the office with some questions for my doctor about a course of treatment I recently began. A female voice I don’t recognize at all answers.
Assistant: “Thank you for calling [Office]. We’re on a recorded line. How may I help you?”
Me: “Hi, this is [My Name]. I saw [Doctor] earlier this week and just had some questions for her about [treatment].”
Assistant: “[My Name], it’s [Sister].”
Me: *Stunned* “Oh! I’m sorry, I—”
Assistant: “Here, let me get [Coworker].”
Another employee took care of me. For the record, the health issue was neither embarrassing nor something I hadn’t already told my sister about in typical family conversation.
When we hung up, I texted my sister, “I’m so sorry! I know you can’t help me, and had I known, I would’ve waited for you to get someone else, but I swear, I had no idea that was you! Your voice sounded so much deeper and more mature.”
When she was free, she simply texted back, “Customer service voice.”
Inject A Little Patience For Your Patients
FLORIDA, INSTANT KARMA, JERK, MEDICAL OFFICE, NURSES, USA | HEALTHY | JANUARY 24, 2021
I have an injectable maintenance medication which is administered every three months. Once I began nursing school and was signed off on injection administration, my doctor said it was stupid to have me come into the office to get this medication administered since I routinely did it for others as part of my clinicals. I was ordered to call in with the date, location given, and lot/expiration date. For three years, I did not have any issues doing this. That is, until the doctor hired a new nurse.
I call in.
Me: “Hi, this is [My Name], born [Date Of Birth]. I’m calling in with the information on my injection.”
Nurse: “What do you mean, ‘calling in with the information’?”
Me: “Oh, the doc allows me to self-administer at home and call the information in.”
The nurse goes BALLISTIC.
Nurse: “What the h*** do you mean self-administer?! You aren’t allowed to do that! You must come in to have a nurse give that! I’m going to report you to the doctor and he’s going to fire you as a patient.”
Me: “I’m a nurse. I literally work in the building next door to your office. [Doctor] thinks it’s stupid for me to come in for this. It wastes my time and your office’s time.”
Nurse: “Don’t you lie to me, girlie!”
She continued screaming at me.
At this, I’d had enough and told her I was hanging up. I went to work early the next day to go speak to the nurse manager for that office. I was informed that it wasn’t an issue any longer as the doctor had heard her screaming at me. He waited and then informed her that I was indeed a fellow nurse and he didn’t allow his nurses to treat patients or fellow colleagues like that.
A nurse I work with told me about watching security unceremoniously removing a nurse from the building next door the previous day.
It’s not often that instant Karma occurs, but when it does, it’s glorious.
Good Thing Bad Parenting Isn’t Contagious
HEALTH & BODY, LAZY/UNHELPFUL, PARENTS/GUARDIANS, SCHOOL, USA | HEALTHY | JANUARY 23, 2021
I work for a school for students with special needs. Most of the parents are great, but some are idiots.
I am working in a first-grade classroom. One of the teachers takes one of the kids to the bathroom while I am helping the other teacher hand out breakfast. We suddenly hear a small scream, and the teacher comes out, holding the kid under the armpits.
Teacher: “He’s got ringworm! Get him to the nurse, quick!”
I grab the kid and take him to the nurse’s office, which is a closed-off area of the main admin office. The nurse is just about to go on her medication rounds but quickly checks the student, confirming it is ringworm, and goes to call his mother. It’s a small office so I hear the whole conversation while I keep the kid entertained.
Nurse: “Hello, [Mother], we just discovered that your son has ringworm. Could you please come get him?”
Mother: “Yes, I know. I saw it this morning.”
Nurse: “Excuse me?!”
Mother: “I put a bandaid on it. Didn’t you see?”
Nurse: “Ma’am, you cannot cure ringworm with a bandaid. You need to pick up your son and bring him home. He cannot return to school until a doctor confirms that the ringworm is gone.”
Mother: “I’m at work.”
Nurse: “You still need to come pick him up and take him home. How soon can you be here?”
Mother: “I’m at work; I can’t get him. He has to stay there for today.”
Nurse: “No, you need to pick him up. He has a contagious fungal infection and cannot stay here!”
Mother: “I’m at work.” *Hangs up*
The nurse turns back to me in shock.
Nurse: “Can you believe this?!”
Me: “Yes, but good news: she doesn’t work. She brings [Student] a hot lunch every day, so she’ll be here in a few hours.”
The nurse just looks at me, incredulous, but then goes out to the secretary and talks to her before coming back in and filling me in on the plan. She then leaves for her rounds, leaving me to watch the student and keep him isolated.
After two hours, when it’s almost time for our class’s lunchtime, the student’s mother drives up. The nurse has just returned, and she and the secretary leap into action.
The secretary lets the mother in but then stands by the door to the outside. The nurse comes out of her office, leading the student. I stand by the door leading into the school, blocking anyone from getting in.
The nurse marches up to the mother, who is dressed in a T-shirt, yoga pants, and flip-flops — definitely NOT a working uniform — and holds the student out to her.
Nurse: “Your son has a fungal infection that is contagious via skin contact and he cannot return here until you have a doctor’s note stating that the infection is one-hundred percent cleared up. It will be at least a week. Make sure your doctor includes a phone number because I will be calling to check and be sure [Student] was cleared. You may go now.”
The mother silently took her son and exited via the door the secretary was holding open for her. The student did return fully healed, but she never tried to pull that trick again!
Order Matters Word!
FUNNY, MEDICAL OFFICE, USA, WORDPLAY | HEALTHY | JANUARY 22, 2021
Our electronic medical records program has a screen where we fill in details regarding prescriptions and it puts together the sig from that information. Sometimes the providers don’t pay attention to the output. Here’s an actual prescription I caught that had been sent several times before I did:
Prescription: “Take one tablet to make it easier to urinate orally, once a day.”
I’m sure the pharmacists got a laugh every few months when that came through!
Taking “Sharing Is Caring” To Another Level
AWESOME, CHILDREN, HOSPITAL, INSPIRATIONAL, MARYLAND, USA | HEALTHY | JANUARY 21, 2021
About a decade ago, I decided to donate my kidney as a non-directed donor, meaning I didn’t know the person who would get the kidney; the hospital picked him. Knowing that I volunteered with children and had a real soft spot for them, the hospital recommended a twenty-two-month-old child as the person to receive the kidney.
The surgery went fine and I got to meet the child for the first time a month after the surgery. I thought this would be the only time I would meet the child.
A number of years later, I get a surprise call from the pediatric department of the hospital where I donated. They are doing a reunion party where they get together kidney donors and kidney recipients, and they want to know if I would like to attend. Excited at the chance to meet the child again, I agree to attend.
When they finally arrive at the party, while their mother is busy signing in, the boy and his twin brother wander into the party and apparently recognize me. The one that I actually donated the kidney to is a bit shy at first about meeting me, not so much his brother.
Twin Brother: “Are you the one that gave my brother the kidney?”
Me: “Yes, I was.”
Without saying anything else, he runs up to me and gives me a gigantic hug.
Twin Brother: “Thank you!”
His brother seems a bit unsure how he is supposed to interact with his kidney donor at first, but I have enough experience with kids that I am able to get him to open up soon enough. Eventually, the brothers are excitedly dragging me around to face painting and all the other activities they have for the party.
Boy: “Where did you get the extra kidney from?”
Me: “Everyone is born with two kidneys, but we only really need one, so they took my left kidney out of me and put it in you, and I keep using my right kidney.”
Boy: “How did they get it out?”
Me: “They cut a hole in my belly button and then stuck a machine in through it which they used to cut my kidney out and pull it out through my belly button. Then they did the same thing to you to put the kidney into you.”
Brother: “Did it hurt?”
Me: “They put me asleep when they cut the kidney out, so I didn’t feel anything then. It did hurt a few days after, but it got much better after the third day. It was worth it to help.”
Kid: “Oh.”
The kid stands there, clearly thinking about that for a few more seconds.
Kid: “Thank you.”
By the end of the party, both twins were asking if I could come visit them again. Since I love kids anyway, I told them I’d be willing to, but I didn’t want to impose, so I told them I could only if their mother wanted to invite me. I heard the kids tell their mother that they wanted me to visit, but I never did get an invite to visit them from her. It’s been many years since then, but I hope, wherever they are, both kids are still as happy and healthy as they were the last time we met.
Wrap This Person In Bubble Wrap!
AUSTRALIA, BIZARRE, FAST FOOD, HEALTH & BODY | HEALTHY | JANUARY 21, 2021
CONTENT WARNING: Major Injury
I am accident-prone. I mean, REALLY accident-prone. I have broken most of the bones in my body at least once — some, in the case of my nose and fingers, multiple times. I have screws and plates all through my body. There’s nothing wrong with my bones, either, if you need further proof of what a disaster magnet I am.
In the highlights of my list of “big injuries”:
I was hit by a drunk driver and dragged two blocks when I was eight years old. It took me months to learn how to walk again. I fell down a set of stairs in high school and broke both my legs. I was ADJACENT to a car crash as a pedestrian and had all my ribs broken by a flying tyre. I was attacked by a pack of dogs when I was a toddler that somehow got past two locked six-foot gates. I was the only one injured when my first workplace burned down, despite being one of the first out the door. I was standing in the evacuation area with thirteen other people when the gas canister exploded, and guess who was the only person hit with glass and shrapnel? Me.
I am not exaggerating the disaster magnet thing. My husband is well versed in emergency rooms and surgery waiting areas.
I start working at a fast food place. My husband waits for the inevitable call that I have been horrifically burned by the fryer or somehow run over in the drive-thru.
One night, I’m working overnight. My husband is peacefully sleeping when he gets a call from my manager. He groggily answers the phone.
Husband: “Hello?”
Manager: “Hey, man. Um, [My Name] has just left here in an ambulance. She asked me to ask you to meet her at the hospital and bring her emergency bag?”
My husband gets out of bed and starts to grab my always packed emergency bag.
Husband: “Yep, on it, mate. Hey, what happened?”
Manager: “She, uh… She broke her hip.”
Husband: *Pause* “I gotta say, out of everything I expected, that wasn’t it.”
Yep. I had slipped on a puddle of grease and slid the exact wrong way with my leg twisted. It had dislocated, and then I landed on it full force and rolled. After surgery and rehab, I was okay, but my husband LOVES to tell people I broke my hip flipping burgers.
The Special Circumstances Are That This Nurse Is A Jerk
BAD BEHAVIOR, ILLINOIS, MEDICAL OFFICE, NURSES, USA | HEALTHY | JANUARY 20, 2021
My youngest has a form of club footing. We have been seeing a wonderful doctor, but he has moved states. We want to keep seeing him but need special permission from our insurance sent by her pediatrician. I call the office and talk to the head nurse.
Me: “My daughter’s orthopedist has moved states, but we want to keep seeing him. I talked to my insurance, and they claim that if my pediatrician sends in a ‘special circumstances’ form that they will waive the out-of-network fee. Can you please do that?”
Head Nurse: “Sure. We’ll send in for the special preauthorization today.” *Hangs up*
Ten days later, the preauthorization paperwork comes in the mail, and I instantly see a problem. I call the insurance company to see if it was an oversight on their end.
Representative: “Thank you for calling [Insurance Company]; I’m [Representative]. How may I assist you today?”
Me: “I just got my preauthorization to continue seeing my orthopedist of choice, but there’s an issue. It says his previous place of employment, and he moved states. I was just checking to see if it was an oversight.”
Representative: “Oh, I see. Can you please verify your identification so I can proceed?”
Me: “Certainly.”
I complete the three-step verification.
Representative: “I see what happened. Your pediatrician’s office didn’t fill out the proper paperwork. I’ll send it over to them so it can be corrected. Is there anything else I can assist with?”
Me: “Only for you to have a fantastic day. You have assisted me wonderfully, thank you.” *Hangs up*
Five days later, the head nurse calls me and immediately has an attitude that I would classify as an annoyed parent talking to a toddler.
Head Nurse: “[My Name]? This is [Head Nurse]. We received some paperwork to fill out from your insurance stating that you want special circumstance paperwork filled out to keep seeing your orthopedist. Care to explain that to me?”
Me: “Yes. As I said two weeks ago, our preferred orthopedist moved from his previous office to another one in a different state. He did a great job with her first surgery, and we want to keep him for her subsequent surgeries. The only way that can happen is if you guys fill out the paperwork that was sent to you.”
Head Nurse: “You most certainly did not tell me anything like that two weeks ago. There are perfectly okay doctors that can handle her ‘issues’.”
When she says, “issues,” she changes her tone to sound more sarcastic.
Me: “I understand that they’re okay, but if I move to another orthopedist, then we have to again have a preliminary visit and brace trial and error before her next surgery, which could take months again. If you fill that paperwork out, I can get her the much-needed surgery within the month. Her orthopedist is just sitting on go for the paperwork to be sent in. Please, can you have the doctor fill out the paperwork so she isn’t forced to wait unnecessarily for the surgery that will let her finally walk after years of her crawling only?!”
Head Nurse: “I will not send this paperwork for the doctor to fill out. The preauthorization you already have will work just fine for a doctor at the office you’ve been accepted to. You don’t need to see him just because you feel like it.”
Me: “I am not going to accept a ‘just okay’ doctor when my current orthopedist knows her issues well and is ready to do the surgery. If you don’t understand why it frustrates me that you won’t have the doctor sign the paperwork, and you’re forcing her months longer of just crawling, then I’ll make an appointment to see the pediatrician to have her fill the form out.”
Head Nurse: “I’m sorry that you don’t understand me. I will have the form shredded before the appointment and a call in to the insurance company that you changed your mind. With my call, you will be ineligible for another ‘special circumstances’ form for twelve months. Goodbye.”
Yes, she did put in to the insurance that I didn’t want the original orthopedist, so it’d be 100% out of pocket, upwards of $500,000, and I couldn’t get another form for twelve months. I reported her for her unprofessionalism, but nothing seems to have come from it; she was there when I brought my other child to her check-up. Joke’s on her, though; I got accepted at the leading non-profit hospital and don’t have to go through that office for pre-authorization again. I also don’t have to go through the rigorous multiple appointments and brace attempts before surgery.
Won’t Be Stuck Here For Long
HEALTH & BODY, KIND STRANGERS, MEDICAL OFFICE, NEW JERSEY, STUPID, USA | HEALTHY | JANUARY 19, 2021
I am newly divorced. I am also quite stubborn and make a decent attempt at home repairs on my own. This is not one of my shining moments.
I attempt to fix a leaking pipe under a sink using my hot glue gun. Don’t ask. I make a serious error in judgment and end up with hot melted glue completely covering my index finger and partially covering the middle and ring fingers of my right hand. The pain is immediate and intense. I quickly get ice and water in a glass and dunk my fingers into it. It is the only thing that stops the pain. I cannot pull the thick layer of glue off my fingers without perhaps removing a layer of skin. I quickly call my private physician’s office and explain what happened and that I was on my way. They encourage me to visit the emergency room at the hospital, but I tell them that I much prefer to see my physician individually.
I drive myself — manual transmission with my fingers still dipped in the ice water — to my doctor, who is luckily only five minutes away. When I walk into the waiting room, it is packed. As I do not have an appointment, I know I am in for quite a wait. I check in and sit down. Within about ten minutes, the ice in my glass melts and the water quickly becomes room temperature. The horrible pain returns. I go to the receptionist.
Me: “Excuse me. I have some rather bad burns on my fingers. Can you get me some ice for my water?”
Receptionist: “Sure will.”
She returns with three small ice cubes. I know it is not going to last long, but I accept what I can get. Unfortunately, it only takes a few minutes before that ice also melted. Not wanting to be a bother, I resign myself to the pain. Within five minutes, it is overwhelming. As a purely physical reaction, I lean over in my chair between my legs and start rocking back and forth over the floor.
After a few minutes of watching me do this, a man in the waiting room apparently has enough. He approaches the receptionist.
Man: “Ma’am, you need to get this young lady back to see the doctor immediately. She is in obvious pain, and she needs to jump the line.”
Woman: *From her chair* “Yes, please get her back to the doctor right away.”
The rest of the waiting room chimed in agreement. A nurse came within moments and brought me to an exam room. The doctor gave me some pain medication. As I sat, the water softened my skin and I was slowly able to peel the glue off without causing further damage. I ended up with serious second-degree burns to my three fingers. It took weeks to heal completely but eventually did. Fortunately, the worst of the pain subsided within a few hours.
I am still thankful to those kind strangers who allowed me to jump in front of their appointments. They may never know how much they helped me that day.
We Think We May Actually Be Speechless
BAD BEHAVIOR, DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, MINNESOTA, OPTOMETRIST/OPTICIAN, USA | HEALTHY | JANUARY 18, 2021
I’m having my first eye test in a few years and the doctor gives me the colorblind test to flip through. I surprisingly stumble on a few of them, and my wife comments that she’s noticed I tend to confuse certain colors.
Doctor: “You’re not fully colorblind, but you do have something there. Probably a muted form inherited from your father. Does he have trouble with colors?”
Me: “Not that I know of, but he doesn’t really—”
Doctor: *Interrupting me* “Oh, then he’s not your father because you’re definitely a little colorblind. Women have to inherit the gene from both parents. I wonder who your real father is.”
Me: “Did you really just say that to me?”
It turned out that I have tritanomaly, which can come from a blow to the head — and I was bucked off a few horses in my life — OR can be inherited if both your parents at least carry the gene as it’s a mutation. So, it turns out that it IS possible for a non-colorblind man to father a colorblind(ish) daughter!
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