Health Care stories

You Can’t Insure Against Evil
Bad Behavior, Parents/Guardians, Pennsylvania, Pharmacy, USA | Healthy | September 22, 2019
(A young woman pulls up to the drive-thru pharmacy to pick up Ritalin for her son, who is sitting in the backseat. The medication isn’t ready so I check the system and see that the insurance isn’t covering it. A reason is usually provided, but not in this case.)

Evil Mom: “That makes no sense. We always get it filled here and there’s never a problem. The insurance covers everything.” *classic line with pharmacy customers who think insurance is magic and has no limitations*

Me: “I understand. But I just tried to run it through the insurance and they rejected it without giving a reason why. Would you be able to call them?”

Evil Mom: “Okay, I’ll call right now.” *looks at her insurance cards angrily* “So, what’s the number?”

Me: *confused why she thinks I know the number off the top of my head* “There should be a customer service number on the back of the card.”

Evil Mom: *still angry* “Member services?”

Me: “Yes.”

(She calls and remains sitting in the single-lane driveway, blocking a line of cars with no regard for the other people who came for their medications.)

Me: “Could you pull around the store to make the call?”

Evil Mom: “I’m not leaving this spot until I get my son’s meds.”

(The pharmacist comes over.)

Pharmacist: *friendly* “I’m sorry, but would you be able to—”

Evil Mom: *without looking at us* “I’m not leaving.” *rolls the window up in our faces*

(The pharmacist curses under her breath and leaves to help other customers. The mom reaches someone from the insurance company and puts the window back down. For fifteen minutes, I listen to her scream at the representative. The whole store can hear her through the drive-thru dropping profuse F-bombs and bullying the rep. Her son is fidgeting in the back seat, but sadly, he doesn’t look surprised by this behavior.)

Evil Mom: “Why isn’t my son’s medication covered? You are supposed to cover it and he needs this! What is your name? Okay. And what is your last name? ‘L’ is your last name? Wow. That’s a weird last name. Then give me your employee number. What do you mean, you don’t have numbers? So, how does your company have you on file? Give me your information. You know what? Nevermind. I want to speak to a manager. Now.”

(A car behind her honks.)

Other Customer: *shouting forward* “What’s going on? It’s been almost half an hour! Just go inside!”

Evil Mom: *shouting back* “SHUT THE F*** UP!”

(Eventually, the cars behind her begin leaving the line. None of them come inside the store. Mom, still on the phone, throws a discount prescription card and her welfare card at me and looks expectant. I return a blank look.)

Evil Mom: *pleasant voice* “I’m waiting for you.”

Me: *confused as to what she expects me to do, since the insurance issue has not been resolved* “Did they put the claim through? If so, I can try to re-run it.”

Evil Mom: *arrogantly* “Just run the cards and give me the medication. I’m going to pay the same amount as I did last time. Use the cards I just gave you and give me his pills.”

Me: “It still has to go through the insurance first.”

(The mom continues screaming obscenities simultaneously at the phone and now at me. The pharmacist comes over again and takes charge of the situation.)

Pharmacist: “You need to stop talking like that to our staff. You’re cursing and insulting us. We don’t need that. In the future, I think you need to use a different pharmacy.”

Evil Mom: *in a weirdly amused way* “Who are you even? I didn’t ask you anything.”

(The pharmacist and I are fed up. I look back and see that the store manager has been listening to everything in the background. The pharmacist tries to run the medication through the insurance again but the rejection is still coming up.)

Pharmacist: “The insurance is still not going through. We’ve done what we can. The cash price is $130 and we can fill it for you.”

(The mom sped away in a flash without another word. We were surprised she didn’t curse us out one more time. We anticipate that she has already called corporate to tell them we are horrible people preventing her from getting her son’s medication. The store manager who overheard said she will vouch for us. If that evil mom knew how to be patient and work with people, there is a chance she could have gotten her son’s medication filled. I feel really bad for that kid.)

The Many Signs Of Politeness
Dentist, Michigan, Patients, Silly, USA | Healthy | September 19, 2019
(I’m sixteen when I get all four of my wisdom teeth out at once. I’m understandably a little fuzzy and in pain after the procedure, but overall surprisingly lucid. I tend to be painfully polite, and since I can’t speak with the gauze in my mouth, I clumsily sign, “Thank you,” the only thing I know how to say in basic sign language, to the nurses helping me to the recovery area. A few weeks later, I’m discussing the aftermath of the procedure with my parents.)

Mom: “Do you realize how many times you said, ‘Thank you,’ to the nurses?”

Me: “I wanted to be polite! They did a good job!”

Mom: “You were thanking them every two seconds!”

(Good to know I’m polite even when I’m high on anesthesia.)

Breathe Easy: This One Has A Happy Ending
Colorado, Lazy/Unhelpful, Pets & Animals, USA, Vet | Healthy | September 16, 2019
(My dog has developed a swollen face, is vomiting, and is not her usual, rambunctious self, but not lethargic. Although I’ve had dogs most of my life, I’ve never had a dog with such symptoms. It’s late in the day, just before they are due to close, but I call my veterinarian’s office for advice. She had a Bordetella vaccine just a few days ago so I think it might be related and mention that. After I explained the symptoms and asked about any relation to the vaccine

Receptionist: “I don’t think it’s related to the vaccine, but let me check.” *a few moments of silence* “No, the vet doesn’t think such an allergic reaction would happen at this point. It’s been three days and any adverse effects generally are seen with the first few hours, not longer than 48. Besides, the Bordetella vaccine doesn’t cause anything like what you’re describing. If you’re concerned, I can fit you in at the next available appointment. How about Tuesday at 10:00 am?”

(I’m calling on a Thursday.)

Me: “Um, did you say allergic reaction? Do you really think I should wait almost a week to have something like that checked? By then, I’m sure she would be already recovered or dead! Maybe I should take her to the emergency vet?”

Receptionist: “Well, the face swelling usually means the pet is on the way to recovery from whatever set it off, but yes, possibly an allergic reaction. If it makes you feel better, we can see her at 8:00 am tomorrow, but leave us a voicemail to let us know tonight or first thing in the morning if you won’t be coming. She should be fine.”

Me: “And if it gets worse, I’ll take her to the emergency vet; either way, I’ll let the office know if I don’t need that appointment.”

(My dog did appear to be improving, with the swelling decreasing. She stopped vomiting and started acting more energetic, but I didn’t call to cancel that appointment. Close to midnight, she started almost frantically pacing, madly shaking her head every couple of minutes — maybe something in her ear? — and couldn’t get comfortable to sleep. She generally sleeps on her own blanket at my feet on the bed but finally, about two am, she settled down wrapped around my head, laying on my pillow with her head on mine, her nose next to my ear. Soon, her breathing became soft and her usual light snoring started, and I dozed off myself. I was suddenly jolted awake a few minutes after four am and I quickly realized that, even though her nose was next to my ear, I couldn’t hear her breathing! I quickly sat up and turned to check on her. She was not only not breathing, but she was totally limp like a rag, no muscle tone at all, and she felt somewhat cold to the touch. I quickly moved her to an accessible position and started chest compressions, with no response, and I started bawling, calling her name, and berating myself for not taking her to the emergency vet. That woke my husband up and he, too, acknowledged that she appeared to be gone. He reached out to touch and caress her limp body and pretty much instinctively, I think, also squeezed her chest. And her head moved, very slightly. Imagination? Wishful thinking? No, it moved again and she started breathing again! It took several minutes but she recovered enough to pull herself to her blanket and she almost immediately fell asleep, gently snoring. She slept; we didn’t. I kept that appointment, but by then she was not showing any remaining symptoms at all, except for a bit of residual swelling. After questioning why we hadn’t given her any Benadryl –I wasn’t instructed to and didn’t know to do so — the vet explained that the head shaking was because the swelling makes the ears “not feel right,” that her ears were then perfectly clear and her temperature and color normal. I’m not sure the vet believed what had happened earlier, but he noted it all in her file. My pup was given injections of Benadryl and steroids to fight off any remaining toxins, but didn’t have any further issues. We still have no idea what caused such a dramatic allergic reaction, but it’s suspected to be a bug or spider bite from the back yard. Now, we keep Benadryl in the medicine cabinet and have instructions that if she begins to show any similar symptoms, no matter how slight, we are to give her half of a tablet and take her to the emergency vet immediately. And one veterinary receptionist is probably in a heap of trouble for his casual reaction to my very real concerns.)

LOL-ly
Australia, Awesome, Grandparents, Hospital, Inspirational, New South Wales, Non-Dialogue, Nurses, Patients, Sydney | Healthy | September 13, 2019
Late at night, my grandfather calls me to say my grandmother is having an “episode” and needs me. I hurry over, take one look at her, and call an ambulance; we escort her to the hospital.

My grandmother has become increasingly anxious about getting older and sicker and is visibly shaking and getting upset at the sudden onset of people around her taking blood, canulating, running ECGs, etc. The primary nurse has been professional, but far from warm or personable. My grandmother and I are nurses ourselves — well, Grandma was, years ago — so we totally understand that that happens sometimes.

My grandmother is given a cup of disgusting potassium liquid to drink, which she does quickly, but, in an effort to try and cheer herself up, she says, “Ugh! Wah wah wah! I want a lolly after that!”

The primary nurse disappears out of the room for a minute and returns… holding a rainbow lollipop, which she unwraps and presents to Grandma. She says, still in her serious voice, “That’s for being a brave girl,” and then heads out of the room again.

Grandma was so chuffed she talked about that little gesture for her remaining years.

A Sample Of The Local Community
Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, Oklahoma, Revolting, Tulsa, USA | Healthy | September 9, 2019
My doctor wrote up an order for some blood work. On my way in, I passed a mailbox mounted to the wall outside.

It can’t be confused with anything but a mailbox. It even has a little red flag to raise for outgoing mail.

The nurse who drew my blood told me that the mail carrier just walked inside and delivered the mail. The box was unused. Then, one day someone suspected that things were being put in the box. There was no key. It had to be forced open.

Yup.

People were using it for a specimen dropbox. Blood, urine, and stool samples in whatever jar someone felt like putting them in had been put in a black metal box in full Oklahoma summer heat — normally over 100F. Anyone besides me thinking, “How many people tried to tear off the sign and rip away the tape to insert some new sample?”

One Man’s Meat Is Another Man’s Poison
Coworkers, Employees, Health & Body, Maryland, Retail, Stupid, USA | Healthy | September 6, 2019
(I work at a store with around 80 to 100 total employees. In the last few months, there have been a surprising number of people missing work due to food poisoning, about 20 times in the last three or four months. Emails have been going around, with some people complaining, some passive-aggressively implying people are making it up or blowing it out of proportion, and a few of us trying to actually make lists of restaurants in the area workers might go out to eat, or where they shopped, to see trends. We get a lot of people in the store, even if they have not had food poisoning, to describe their lunch habits. Still, even with the information, nothing really seems to add up. Some of the people usually get lunch at the restaurants nearby, but none of the restaurants seem more likely than others. Sometimes it was pizza, sometimes it was people bringing leftovers that had been fine the day before, sometimes they had eaten out, sometimes they had not. None of it seems to make a lot of sense. Today, I am in our break room for lunch when I see a coworker putting a few chicken wings on a napkin into one of the two microwaves. After a moment, something clicks in my head and I look back at the microwave with chicken inside.)

Me: “Hey, [Coworker], are you cooking chicken?”

Coworker: “Yeah! [Grocery Store] sells bags of frozen wings. They make a good lunch.”

Me: “Are they precooked?”

Coworker: “No, you have to cook them. Our microwave takes forever, though.”

Me: “Okay, so, you cook the frozen wings in the microwave?”

Coworker: “Just put them in the refrigerator in the morning and they defrost by lunchtime.”

Me: “Okay, gotcha.”

(Throughout the conversation, I don’t think my coworker picks up on my disbelief, so I just sit down and watch him as he plays on his phone, occasionally checking the chicken. At the end, the napkin the wings are on is clearly soggy with something, so he grabs another paper towel and wipes off the glass tray in the microwave, then wipes off the counter where there are a few drips. He then sets the napkin down on one of the tables and eats from it. We have paper plates on hand, but he just has the wings on a napkin. Once he finishes, he throws out the bones and gets another napkin to wipe off the damp spot left on the table under his napkin, throws it out, and goes back to the sales floor.)

Me: *on a walkie-talkie* “Hey, [Manager], could you meet me in the break room, please? I might have found the cause of the recent food issues.”

(The manager gave him a talking-to, but he genuinely did not seem to understand why what he was doing was a huge health risk. We heavily sanitized the break room with bleach, and here’s hoping the food poisoning issues are done with.)

Squeezing Them To See Things Your Way
Impossible Demands, Jerk, Medical Office, Patients, USA, Washington | Healthy | September 2, 2019
(I’m on the phone with someone who is trying to schedule an appointment they describe as urgent.)

Me: “We’re booked solid until next Friday but I can squeeze you in. It’d just be a shorter appointment.”

Patient: “What? Why?”

Me: “Because we’re full and that’s the only way I could possibly fit you in, I’m afraid.”

Patient: “That’s completely unacceptable! I don’t want to be squeezed in! I need a full appointment! Book me for your soonest appointment right now!”

Me: “Okay. Then the first day we can see you is [date two weeks from now]. Would noon work for you?”

Patient: *pause* “What does being squeezed in mean?”

You Said It, Doc!
Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | August 31, 2019
(I have had some severe abdominal pain recently. My primary doc is unable to figure out what is going on so I am referred to a specialist. This is my first interaction with the specialist

Doctor: “So, who did you see before coming to me?”

Me: “My general practitioner.”

Doctor: “Your GP?” *he scoffs* “What a waste of time. Tell me, what sort of useless advice did he give you?”

Me: “He told me to come and see you.”

Doctor: *nervously shifts in his chair and coughs*

Needs Treatment Not Treats
Editors' Choice, Health & Body, Pet Store, Pets & Animals, Stupid, USA | Healthy | August 30, 2019
(After a long day of dealing with people who are seemingly too stupid to read price tags, I am ready to go home. My manager has come over to tell me to turn off my light and go home. As I am leaving my register, a woman I’ve seen many times comes up.)

Woman: “Oh, sweetheart, I know you’re leaving but could you please help me? I’ll be quick. It’s just one question.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, I–”

Manager: “[My Name] is one of our most knowledgeable employees. She’ll be happy to help you.” *leaves*

Me: *sigh* “How can I help you?”

Woman: “Well, you see, my dog…”

(She tells me her twelve-year-old dog’s life story, ending in his inability to poop for four days.)

Woman: “So, I was wondering which of these treats would be better for him?”

Me: “Take him to the vet.”

Woman: “What?”

Me: “Take him to the vet.”

Woman: “But that’s expensive!”

Me: “Medical bills are expensive. He needs professional help.”

Woman: “You’re supposed to be the professional help! This is ridiculous! Without customers, you wouldn’t have a paycheck. Do you know that? People like me keep you employed!”

Me: “I make $9 an hour. How professional do you think my help is going to be?”

Woman: “Well, that’s not my problem.”

Me: “You refusing to spend money on your dog is not my problem, either.”

Woman: “You’re quite rude!”

Me: “Your other option is to stick your finger up your dog’s a** and dig out the s*** yourself.”

(I feel a little guilty about the last part, but I am over my time and ready to go home, so I walk away and clock out. When I leave the break room, my manager is standing at the front with the woman, who is obviously complaining about me.)

Woman: “…and you should fire her!”

Manager: “I can’t.”

Woman: “What?! Why not?”

Manager: “Today was her last day.”

(The woman sputtered a few nonsensical words before leaving. I can only hope she took my advice and took her dog to the vet. I understand that vet bills are expensive but that’s part of the deal when you’re in charge of another life.)

They’re Not Out Of The Woods Yet
Hospital, Ohio, Patients, Religion, Silly, USA | Healthy | August 29, 2019
(We’re in the waiting room during our adult son’s brain surgery. A family sits near us and I hear

Family: “He’s in Jesus’s hands now.”

(I lean over to my son’s girlfriend and say

Me: “They sent a carpenter in to do a surgeon’s job.”

He Gin-uinely Tried It
Friends, Health & Body, Home, New York, New York City, Stupid, USA | Healthy | August 27, 2019
(I am a student nurse, about a year from graduation. A friend of mine calls.)

Me: “Hello?”

Friend: “So, you’re a nurse, right?”

Me: “I already don’t like where this is going, and I’m a student nurse. Not–”

Friend: “Okay, well, I have some gravel deep in my hand. Can I just pour some gin on it and be fine?”

(Gin also happens to be his favorite alcohol.)

Me: “What?! Hang on; how did you get gravel in your hand and how deep is it?”

Friend: “I was on my bike and some a**hole opened their car door right in front of me and I went down pretty hard. And here, let me just take a picture.”

(He sends me a picture of his hand, showing that the gravel is dug in pretty deep and firmly stuck in so rinsing it with anything won’t get it out.)

Me: “You need to get tweezers and pull out the gravel, rinse it with water, put something like Neosporin on it, and cover it with a bandaid.”

Friend: “Well, I don’t have tweezers or any of that, really.”

Me: “You live in NYC. There’s definitely some kind of drug store or corner store you can get this stuff in.”

Friend: “I don’t want to spend money on things I already have at home, so can I just pour gin on it?”

Me: *sighs* “I cannot condone this at all but rinsing it with water is probably the best option.”

Friend: “So, gin is okay?”

Me: “If you’re intent on using alcohol, use straight vodka, instead, BUT I CANNOT CONDO–”

Friend: “Okay, thanks, bye!” *hangs up*

(He texts me a picture of his hand. He has used a prong of his watch to dig out the gravel, causing himself to bleed more and making the entire area fairly red. He texts me an hour or so later.)

Friend: “The barkeeper wouldn’t just give me some vodka, so I had to buy it and go into the bathroom to rinse it. Thanks again!”

Me: “This still was not your best option and I cannot condone this behavior.”

(He never replied.)

You Get Some Anxiety, You Get Some Anxiety, Everybody Gets Some Anxiety!
Bad Behavior, Criminal & Illegal, Therapist, USA | Healthy | August 26, 2019
(I go to a therapist for anxiety. For complicated reasons, I’m afraid of asking for an OCD and social anxiety diagnosis, so my partner comes with me.)

Therapist: “Okay, you are aware that I am not a couples therapist?”

Me: *nods*

Therapist: “And that [Partner] is not covered under your insurance?”

Partner: “That’s not why I’m here.”

Therapist: “Okay, well, let me just explain what we’ve been doing here.”

(She says her job description, and then talks about my anxiety. To my horror, she starts spilling every secret I ever told her, including unfair, heat-of-the-moment venting about my partner, without explaining the part after, where I acknowledged my unfairness. I start having a silent panic attack. Eventually, she stops talking.)

Partner: *without any hint of annoyance or anything negative* “I’m just here to help [My Name] ask for a referral to a psychiatrist.”

Therapist: “Sure! I can do that right away for you!”

(We leave. I am too terrified to speak. When we enter the car, my partner sighs angrily.)

Partner: “B****!”

Me: *jumps*

Partner: “Sorry, not you. Don’t worry; I tuned her out once I realized where she was going.” *pauses* “When we get your psychiatrist, do we have to go back to her?”

Me: *shakes my head no*

Partner: “Good. I can’t believe she did that. Do you want a hug?”

(We did hug and talk about the anxiety. My partner also has anxiety, and I’ve been trying to convince her to see a therapist. This… did not help.)

Drunk Up To Their Guts
Alcohol, Bizarre, California, Non-Dialogue, Pets & Animals, USA, Vet | Healthy | August 25, 2019
I work the overnight shift at an emergency vet. We get some interesting calls.

One night, I answer the phone and it is a very drunk man, slurring his words. He explains that it’s his anniversary, he and his wife have had a few bottles of wine, his cat was “faxed” yesterday, and now her guts are hanging out.

I tell him to bring her in and I give him the number of an animal-friendly cab company we recommend. Then, I go to let the doctor know what is on the way. He laughs and says it’s probably just a minor dehiscence and the subcutaneous fat is showing — quick sedation and we sew it back up and the cat will be fine. So, the tech starts prepping the surgical room while we wait.

The phone rings again. It’s a drunk woman, who explains that it’s her anniversary, she and her husband have had a few bottles of wine, their cat was “spaded” yesterday, and now her guts are hanging out.

I give the exact same instructions I gave the man and go tell the doctor that the same cat is coming in twice. We all laugh at how Mister either didn’t tell Missus he had called or they were so drunk they forgot he had called.

About half an hour later. a cab pulls up and the driver brings in a cat carrier, warns me that the passengers are totally wasted, and then helps them stagger inside. The tech takes the cat out of the box and the doctor was right; it was just a minor dehiscence with exposed fat.

While the doctor is explaining what we want to do and how much it will cost and getting approval, a second cab pulls up.

These owners are significantly less drunk; I’m still glad they didn’t drive, but they can carry the cat in on their own. The tech is busy prepping the first cat, so I take them to an exam room, take the cat out of the box and… Oh, my God, that’s a liver! This cat ripped out all her sutures and there are intestines just hanging out of her body.

The second cat gets into surgery first, both sets of owners have a fun conversation in the lobby while they wait, both cats make a full recovery, and we all learn that not all drunks are exaggerating. We also have a lot of fun wording the notes to send to the cats’ usual veterinarian, trying to diplomatically tell them to adjust the way they tie their knots without outright blaming them for what happened — both cats had been allowed, against doctor’s orders, to climb up to the top of a bookcase and jump down.

This Clinic Provides A Terrible Cervix
Canada, Doctor/Physician, Editors' Choice, Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, Students | Healthy | August 23, 2019
While I was a student, it was fairly common to have student doctors learning at the campus clinic. I was getting my routine pap and was asked if I minded having a student do it, with the actual doctor supervising. When it comes to medical stuff I have no shame and have had positive experiences with student doctors in the past — they actually take a history, for one thing! I imagine a lot of people aren’t okay with students doing their pap. though, so all the more reason for me to let them practice.

So, I said I didn’t mind at all, the student introduced herself, and I got in position. She did fine with doing the physical exam and had no problem inserting the speculum. But then came time to swab my cervix. She was looking more and more stressed, and I reassured her she was doing fine and to take her time. A few more moments passed and she was still looking. I remember an offhand comment one of my previous doctors said — that my cervix is a bit off to the side — so I passed that hint along.

“I can’t find it! I can’t find the cervix!” she finally cried.

“I promise you it’s there! Keep looking!” I tried to reassure. Meanwhile, the actual doctor was clearly having issues keeping a straight face. I was still laying there spread eagle, still trying to comfort the professional poking around my lady bits.

The actual doctor took over, and my cervix is indeed off to the side. The student sat back down and the doctor gave her directions to my cervix. She finally found it and got the swab. Good thing, too, because I was also having a hard time keeping my laughter in.

After telling my friends the story of my “lost” cervix, one replied, “But… it’s not like it could get very far!”

Language Is Fluid
Alcohol, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Jerk, Sweden, Wordplay | Healthy | August 20, 2019
Some years ago I had gastric bypass surgery. During the aftercare, I had appointments with a dietician at the hospital where I had the surgery. As a preparation for these visits, I had to fill out an inquiry. One of the questions regarded alcohol.

Did I drink less alcohol than before the surgery, the same or more?

Well, that looks like a straightforward question, but I couldn’t answer it truthfully. Because I do not drink, and is no alcohol the same or less? It can’t be more, but is it the same or less? The same implies some alcohol consumption, as does less.

I added an extra line to the inquiry and simply stated that I do not drink alcohol. Ever.

The dietician went nuts. She berated me for 50 minutes for “my excessive alcohol consumption” as I hadn’t picked the only acceptable answer — less. “None” wasn’t a viable answer as it wasn’t included in the inquiry. I asked her to add to my chart that I do not drink. I asked if we could please continue with discussing my diet as I do not drink. She had worked herself into a frenzy and just kept screaming. Wonderful to travel six hours for a useless meeting with someone not listening at all.

Anyway, the next meeting was six months later, with another dietician. And the same inquiry to prepare. Once again, I answered that I never drink.

This dietician was even more aggressive. She rushed out during the meeting to get a colleague so they could scream at me together. While she was out I grabbed a paper and wrote on it in big letters, “I NEVER DRINK ALCOHOL.”

It didn’t help. They still couldn’t grasp that it is possible to not consume alcohol. I asked them to test my blood alcohol level and do whatever testing they wanted as my liver should be in prime condition. Because I did not f****** drink alcohol. And I still don’t.

Maybe I just should have picked the option of “drinking less” on the inquiry, but… I’m a language teacher. Nuances are important. “Less” is not the same as “none” or “nothing.”

Kids Can Be An Earful
Canada, Children, Hospital, Patients, Stupid, Toronto | Healthy | August 18, 2019
(A mother and her eight-year-old come into the clinic. She says the kid was using the end of a pencil to scratch his ear the previous day and the eraser came off and he accidentally pushed it in while trying to get it out. She can’t get it with tweezers. I flush the ear to remove the eraser and notice a few things.)

Me: “There are clear signs of a swimmer’s ear infection. Fluid has been trapped behind that eraser for a lot longer than a few hours. The eraser would also not nearly be this… encrusted… after such a short time.”

Mother: “[Son] only told me about it yesterday. He said it had just happened. [Son], when did the eraser get stuck in your ear?”

(We both eye the child. He fidgets for a few moments before…)

Son: “Christmas break.”

(This is in MARCH!)

Mother: “What?! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Son: *defiantly* “Well, it only hurt if I touched it and I don’t sleep on that side!”

(Kid logic is my job security.)

Kids Can Be An Earful
Canada, Children, Hospital, Patients, Stupid, Toronto | Healthy | August 18, 2019
(A mother and her eight-year-old come into the clinic. She says the kid was using the end of a pencil to scratch his ear the previous day and the eraser came off and he accidentally pushed it in while trying to get it out. She can’t get it with tweezers. I flush the ear to remove the eraser and notice a few things.)

Me: “There are clear signs of a swimmer’s ear infection. Fluid has been trapped behind that eraser for a lot longer than a few hours. The eraser would also not nearly be this… encrusted… after such a short time.”

Mother: “[Son] only told me about it yesterday. He said it had just happened. [Son], when did the eraser get stuck in your ear?”

(We both eye the child. He fidgets for a few moments before…)

Son: “Christmas break.”

(This is in MARCH!)

Mother: “What?! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Son: *defiantly* “Well, it only hurt if I touched it and I don’t sleep on that side!”

(Kid logic is my job security.)

That Attitude Doesn’t Have A Leg To Stand On
Hospital, Jerk, Nurses, UK | Healthy | August 10, 2019
(I am in intensive care recovering from surgery and infection. A nurse is doing her rounds when I ask her if she could pass me the lunch menu, as it was left on a table out of my reach.)

Nurse: “No.”

Me: “Sorry?”

Nurse: “People always think we’re their personal slaves, demanding this and that. The nurses agreed we wouldn’t be tolerating it anymore. You’ve got two legs; you can walk. Get it yourself.”

(I stare at her, confused, and lift my bedsheets revealing my lower half. The nurse’s face drains as she stares at my one remaining leg; I had the other removed two days ago.)

Me: “Believe me, I wish I could…”

(Instead of handing me the menu, she bolted for the door, leaving me to wriggle around for a bit and eventually letting a woman who had just had triple heart bypass surgery get it for me. I never saw the nurse again, but as I left I saw my name on the ward list being wiped off, with “LEG AMPUTATION” in big capital letters.)

I’m Planning On Spraining My Ankle Next Tuesday
Luxembourg, Medical Office, Reception, Stupid | Healthy | August 14, 2019
(While building my own home, I have a little mishap and cut my left thumb deeply. I quickly disinfect the wound, apply a pressure bandage, and drive over to my family doctor’s practice to get some stitches.)

Me: *sliding over my social security card* “Hi, I cut myself badly.”

Desk Clerk: “Do you have an appointment?”

Me: “Sorry, no, I didn’t plan it in advance!”

That Attitude Doesn’t Have A Leg To Stand On
Hospital, Jerk, Nurses, UK | Healthy | August 10, 2019
(I am in intensive care recovering from surgery and infection. A nurse is doing her rounds when I ask her if she could pass me the lunch menu, as it was left on a table out of my reach.)

Nurse: “No.”

Me: “Sorry?”

Nurse: “People always think we’re their personal slaves, demanding this and that. The nurses agreed we wouldn’t be tolerating it anymore. You’ve got two legs; you can walk. Get it yourself.”

(I stare at her, confused, and lift my bedsheets revealing my lower half. The nurse’s face drains as she stares at my one remaining leg; I had the other removed two days ago.)

Me: “Believe me, I wish I could…”

(Instead of handing me the menu, she bolted for the door, leaving me to wriggle around for a bit and eventually letting a woman who had just had triple heart bypass surgery get it for me. I never saw the nurse again, but as I left I saw my name on the ward list being wiped off, with “LEG AMPUTATION” in big capital letters.)