During my freshman year in high school, my science teacher assigned us to interview people in the community about how they use science in their careers. Although I don’t remember most of the people I spoke with, I can tell you that I spent meaningful time with a local community pharmacist who changed my life.
What I saw was a man who loved his career and truly cared for his patients. In an instant, I knew that I wanted to become a pharmacist, and I never wavered from that goal throughout high school.
Knowing what you want to be when you grow up at age 14 is unusual, but it is very liberating. I simply had to work backwards to figure out how to achieve my goal of becoming a pharmacist.
After high school, I chose to attend Ohio Northern University (ONU) because it had a unique pharmacy program. Rather than attending college for 2 years and then applying to the pharmacy program, ONU students were admitted to the College of Pharmacy from day one.
Although it was expensive, being in pharmacy school from day one and avoiding the risk of rejection made it worthwhile for me.
In college, I spent a lot of time in the library. Although the classwork was difficult, I did well with one exception: organic chemistry.
I did fail organic chemistry—a notorious “weed out” course—but I successfully retook the class over the summer and graduated on time with the rest of my classmates. Failing a course is a difficult stumbling block, but I stood strong and persevered.
Today, I’m thankful for the wonderful pharmacy profession for so many reasons.
First, I’m thankful that community pharmacists are the health care professionals most accessible to the public. If my local pharmacist wasn’t accessible to me, then I likely would have taken a different career path.
Second, I’m proud of the work we pharmacists do, the diversity of our career options, and the relationships we share with our patients and fellow health care providers.
Pharmacy is a profession that makes a real difference in people’s lives. It certainly has made all the difference in mine.
The Doctor’s Prognosis Is Dislocated From The Truth
Doctor/Physician, England, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Lazy/Unhelpful, Manchester, Non-Dialogue, UK | Healthy | October 1, 2018
This tale’s from a few years ago, and will need a little backstory. I have a multi-systemic collagen defect disorder called hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. To explain it in detail would take all night; suffice it to say that my joints dislocate very easily and, though I’ve learned to put them back by myself, there are some I just can’t fix unaided, the wrist of my dominant hand being one of these, for obvious reasons. Bear in mind, too, that dislocations — whether full or partial — hurt. A lot.
One evening, housesitting for a friend on the other side of my city, feeding her cats, I somehow managed to pop my right wrist half out of place. I knew it was out, and I was alone in the house, but — luckily, thought I — the nearest hospital was just over the road. I necked a dose of my usual liquid morphine, grabbed my walking stick left-handed, and headed over to Accident & Emergency.
It was quiet, so I was seen in about thirty minutes and sent for an x-ray, as per routine. When my x-ray was done, though, the doctor on duty left me to sit — on a hard, plastic chair in a cubicle, that was not helping my general chronic pain, while my morphine slowly wore off — for three hours.
After those long three hours, he finally bothered to come to me, and insisted, in the most supercilious, maddening way possible, that my wrist was fine, that the x-ray showed nothing, and that I should go home. I argued with him for a minute, but gave up. Words weren’t going to get through; that much was clear.
I sighed. Then, I asked him to humour me for a moment and get a firm grip of the hand on my injured arm. He did, not looking too pleased about it.
I yanked my arm back against his hold, hard. I could hear the crack as my wrist went back into its proper position, and so did he. The look on his face was an absolute picture.
I’ve never been back to that hospital since. And if I have my way about it, I never will!
Atlanta, Bad Behavior, Doctor/Physician, Georgia, Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, USA | Healthy | September 29, 2018
My mother told me about an experience one of her coworkers had.
The coworker had diabetes before she got pregnant. Her doctor considered her case high-risk, and sent her to another office in the city for some blood work. She had a referral, and all of the necessary info was sent to the office so that these blood tests could be performed. It was supposed to be an in-and-out procedure.
When she got there, the main doctor of this practice was quite curt with her, almost rude. At first she just chalked it up to him being in a bad mood, or needing to learn better bedside manners. Then, he told her, “You know, people like you shouldn’t be getting pregnant.”
She immediately asked what he meant by that. He went on to explain that people with certain health conditions, such as her diabetes, should not be reproducing. She responded that she was there for blood work, and then she was leaving; if he had any personal concerns, she wasn’t interested in hearing them.
The doctor waved her off and told her that she needed to sign some paperwork. She asked what paperwork, as her regular office should have sent her information over. He wouldn’t answer her and just kept pushing the papers at her, telling her to sign. Finally, she took the paperwork and started reading it.
The doctor was trying to force her into signing off for an abortion.
She immediately called her regular doctor and told him what was going on. Her doctor told her to drop everything, and get out of there. Just get up, and walk out, right now. She did.
Her regular doctor apologized profusely and told her he had no idea what the other doctor was up to. He told her he was going to report the practice, and asked if she wanted to lodge a complaint. She did.
The next day, the other doctor’s practice was shut down, and he lost his license. Apparently he had been doing this to other women, and he was taking it upon himself to decide who was — or was not — “worthy” to reproduce or get pregnant.
Bad Behavior, Delaware, Doctor/Physician, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | September 28, 2018
(TriCare, the medical insurance that all US military dependents are on, has sent me to a new gynecologist for treatment of severe endometriosis. Her profile says that she is Catholic, but I don’t think much about it until I have my first few visits with her. Please note that my husband is unable to father a child due to chemical exposure while serving a combat tour in Iraq. We have decided that we are perfectly fine with not having children. I tell her that I don’t want to be a mother.)
New Gyno: “What?! You don’t want baby?! Why?”
(She is from the Philippines and her English isn’t entirely perfect.)
Me: “My husband is 100% unable to father a child. We have been having unprotected sex since we met over six years ago and we have never even had a pregnancy scare. I’m also not comfortable with being a mother.”
New Gyno: “But your husband almost forty and never had baby. He need baby! You have to give him baby!”
Me: “My husband is perfectly okay with not being a father. He is also in the process of being medically retired from the military, and we don’t think that it is a good time to have one now even if we could.”
New Gyno: “But baby make all the stress in your life go away. Baby make your husband’s PTSD from Iraq go away!”
Me: “What part of the fact that my husband can’t father a child do you not understand? I’m a Christian, and I believe that if God saw fit to give us a child in the last six years, he would have.”
New Gyno: “But you take birth control! All women without baby take birth control! You need to take my husband’s fertility awareness program! It $200 per session, per week!”
Me: *wondering where this came from because it’s not in my records* “Do you understand that I suffered a stroke at age twenty-six and I have a history of hypertension? If I had taken birth control for that long–” *I’m thirty-two* “–I would be dead by now! In thirteen years of being sexually active, I have never taken birth control, and I have never been pregnant! I don’t think that paying your husband $200 to learn how to count my cycles is going to get me pregnant. It’s also highly unethical for you to pressure someone into paying money that they might not have for a product that isn’t going to help!”
New Gyno: “But you lie to me about stroke! You never have stroke! You able to walk!”
Me: “I had eight Transient Ischemic Attacks!” *mini-strokes* “If you look at my face when I smile, it droops on one side. I also have partial paralysis in my right hand. I don’t know where you went to medical school, but both of those are the results of a stroke! If you want to really know why I won’t have a child, it’s because I take a cocktail of psychiatric medication to treat Bipolar Disorder and severe PTSD that my ex-husband left me with. If you’d looked at my records you would have known! All three medications are bad for an unborn baby! I also have Asperger’s Syndrome, and I don’t want any children of mine having the same problems that I have!”
New Gyno: “But you can stop medications. God give you the strength to stop taking medications! God want you to have baby! It not normal for woman to not want baby!”
Me: “You recommend stopping lithium cold turkey just to get pregnant?”
New Gyno: “Yes! I don’t believe that those medications help mental illness! Only God help mental illness!”
Me: “Are you aware that I could die if I stopped lithium cold turkey?”
New Gyno: “Why you die? It just like stopping Prozac.”
Me: “No, it’s not! I had a dose lowered once, and I got really sick. You mean to tell me that you equate an antidepressant to one of the most potent mood stabilizers on the market?”
New Gyno: “Yes! All psychiatric drugs the same!”
Me: “You have to be the craziest doctor that I have ever met! Is it your personal mission to make sure that every woman on this planet becomes a mother? I believe that if God wanted me to become a mother, he would have made me one!”
New Gyno: “Yes. All woman need to become mother! I have five children and it make my life wonderful!”
Me: “You need psychiatric help! I’m going to a doctor who understands my medical issues!”
(My husband was medically retired a few months later, and we moved to a small community in eastern Kentucky. TriCare assigned me to a young female gynecologist who was a recent medical school graduate. She agreed that it was a REALLY bad idea for me to get pregnant, and is currently trying to get TriCare to approve a hysterectomy due to my nightmarish periods and history of pelvic pain. The new gynecologist thinks that the one I saw in Delaware is a complete loon!)
Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Patients, Silly, UK |
Healthy | September 27, 2018
(I am 23 and female. One day I have an accident and injure my arm and elbow. Initially, my family and I think it is just sprained, but the next day Mum decides to take me to the hospital as it is really painful. When I was about 13, both my younger brother and I went through a patch where we kept getting hurt in unbelievable ways and had to go to this hospital a lot; my mum has always thought that they put a note in our files for possible physical abuse, which was in no way true. After checking in to A&E, I start to get really dozy. I haven’t slept in about thirty hours due to pain and a really bad cold I’ve had since before the accident, so my mum asks if I want her to come in with me. I say yes. When we get to see the doctor, we go through all the normal questions, with Mum taking most of them. The doctor is young, female, and extremely nice. However, I am evasive about how the accident happened, as it was pretty embarrassing. This raises flags for the doctor, which I don’t notice. Mum doesn’t know how I did it, so she can’t elaborate. I then get sent off for an x-ray, which shows a break, and Mum takes me back to the doctor’s room.)
Doctor: “Oh, good, you’re back. Let’s talk through the injury.” *gives medical explanation and advice* “It is a pretty painful break, but due to your age you should heal quickly and well.” *looks at me and seems very concerned by my attitude* “Mrs. [Mum] would you mind stepping outside for a bit?”
(Mum and I shoot each other some looks but she leaves.)
Doctor: *changes from cheerful to very comforting and soft* “Now, I just wanted to have a little chat with you and see how you were feeling. This is a pretty big break.”
Me: “Feeling crap to be honest; my arm is really hurting and I’ve had this stupid cold in the middle of summer for a couple of days.”
Doctor: “And how did you say you had inured it, again?”
Me: *reservedly* “I fell.”
Doctor: “Yes, you said, but how exactly?”
Me: “Well, my hearing is a bit off with the cold, and I just lost my balance.”
Doctor: *knowing this isn’t the whole story, as I’m a s*** liar* “Did someone push you at all? Did you get into an argument with your mum, maybe? You know these things aren’t your fault. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”
Me: *finally clocking what’s going on* “Oh, nooooooo. It was nothing like that! It was just an accident.”
Doctor: “Of course it was; no one really meant to hurt you and often it’s very confusing. Was it your mum, or maybe a different family member? Your dad?”
Me: *really starting to panic* “No! Look. That’s not what happened! I fell off my bed, okay?! I was sitting cross-legged on my bed, my hearing went nuts, and I lost my balance! I fell off my bed and broke my arm!”
(There is then complete silence and we both just sit there staring at each other.)
Doctor: “Yep, well, that would do it, too. Doesn’t seem like there’s a problem here. Just try not to do it again!”
(I then burst out laughing, followed by the doctor.)
Doctor: “Well, that made my shift! Now go home and get some sleep.”
(After leaving the doctor, I found my very curious mother waiting for me. I did tell her everything when we went home
Bad Behavior, Medical Office, Nurses, USA | Healthy | September 27, 2018
(I am pregnant with my first child. My husband and I had decided we were “taking kids when they came.” While we weren’t actively trying — not testing ovulation or anything — we also weren’t avoiding pregnancy. I am 28 and a PhD candidate; my husband is in his early 30s and has a law degree. In summary, we are definitely established enough and old enough to have children responsibly. In my first trimester, I begin experiencing pretty awful pregnancy sickness, sometimes vomiting without stop for about an hour at a time. It’s not the worst possible, but not great, either. I call my OB to see if there’s anything they can recommend to get some relief from this. The OB office nurse has been repeatedly rude to me, to the extent that I’ve considered leaving their office more than once.)
Me: *explaining the situation to her and asking* “Is there anything you recommend for women to perhaps limit the sickness?”
OB Nurse: “No. Women get sick when they’re pregnant. If you didn’t want to get sick, you should have been a big girl and kept your legs together, or used a condom.”
Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Medical Office, Minnesota, USA | Healthy | September 26, 2018
(During my daughter’s first well-child visit after bringing her home from the hospital, I have what I think is a pretty standard question for the pediatrician
Me: “Can I ask you about vaccinations?”
Doctor: *gets this look on his face like he’s worried he’s about to be yelled at* “Um, okay?”
Me: “When we have scheduled vaccinations, can you give us a schedule for when various immunizations are scheduled, what they’re for, and what sorts of signs we should be looking for in a potential reaction?”
Doctor: *relaxes noticeably* “Oh, yeah. In fact, that’s all in the printout and if you want, we can talk through it at each visit.”
Me: “You looked like you were afraid I was going to go off on you or something. Does that really happen?”
Australia, Bad Behavior, Dentist, Ignoring & Inattentive, New South Wales, Sydney | Healthy | September 25, 2018
(I am in high school, with braces on my upper and lower teeth. My orthodontist decides that the overcrowding on my lower teeth is proving a big enough problem to warrant the removal of two perfectly healthy molars. I can’t say I am impressed, but I don’t have a choice and I am assured it won’t hurt, so I am not too worried. Sitting in the chair at the dentist, I am mostly nervous of the needles I’ll receive for anaesthetic. I receive a needle on each side and am given a moment for it to set in.)
Dentist: “How’s that for you?”
Me: “I can feel that.”
Dentist: “Yes, you’ll feel pressure.”
(The dentist pokes a pointy tool into my gum.)
Me: “Ow, no, I mean it feels like it always would.”
(The dentist looks sceptical, but gives me a second dose of anaesthetic and another moment for it to set in. My mum sits next to me. She’s been quiet all this time. The dentist pops out of the room. I lean over and tell her that everything feels normal; nothing is numb. I ask her, “Please don’t let her do this.” She begins to say something; I can’t remember what. The dentist comes back in.)
Dentist: “Nonsense. She’s lying. You can’t feel anything.”
(I protest, but the dentist basically forces her tools into my mouth and my mum kind of holds me down. The dentist starts cutting into my gum. I scream and wail.)
Dentist: “Oh, stop; it’s just pressure.”
(She continued the procedure, and I kept wailing and crying and gripping my mum’s hand. Afterwards, Mum’s hand was red raw, and she was flustered. She legitimately thought I was just scared, like most kids and teens. I remember shaking and feeling too woozy to say anything further to the dentist. I don’t know whether I’d have been physically able to, either. What I do remember is that the procedure had happened at eight am and that before lunch time my entire face went numb, so I had to spend about five hours with my face over a bucket, the drool pouring out in a constant stream. I vaguely remember my mum and dad both on the phone with the dentist in the other room with some muffled shouting of some kind.)
(Our nursing home has a group of volunteers that often help the nurses during meals and do most of the activities with the residents. This sometimes causes visitors to try to get the volunteers to do things they aren’t allowed to, or things even nurses aren’t allowed to do, such as giving medication at inappropriate times or giving extra medication when residents go on holidays with the family. I exit the elevator and hear an argument.)
Visitor: “I don’t see what the problem is. I want to take my mother to [Local Restaurant], but I need her medication. Now go get them.”
Volunteer: “Ma’am, I’d love to, but I can’t. I don’t know which medication your mother needs nor the exact dosage; you’ll have to speak to a nurse about that.”
Visitor: “You are a nurse. You work here. Stop being lazy and go get my mother’s pills!”
Volunteer: *notices me and points at me* “I’m not a nurse, but [My Name] is. If you ask her, she can check which medication your mother needs and give it to you.”
Visitor: “If you’re not a nurse then why are you in my mother’s room?”
Volunteer: “I was picking her up to go to the dining room; neither of us were aware you were going to come and pick her up. Since [My Name] is here, she can help you with the medication. I’ll go and take other residents to the dining room.”
(At this point the resident opens her door.)
Visitor: “You stop right there. I demand you do your job and get me those pills, and then go get your manager or whatever so I can complain about you!”
(Before anyone can say or do a thing, the mother speaks up
Resident: “G**d*** it, can you not embarrass me for once? First off, I don’t need medication during lunch! Second of all, we agreed to go out for lunch tomorrow. And third of all, if you don’t apologize to [Volunteer] right now, I’ll go out for lunch with her instead of you!”
(The visitor just mumbles and checks her phone, then runs away after yelling, “I’m sorry.”)
Resident: *to the volunteer* “You’re free tomorrow?”
Volunteer: “I am.”
Resident: “Good. If you want, pick me up at 11:00 and we’ll go to [Local Restaurant].”
Doctor/Physician, England, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Jerk, UK | Healthy | September 24, 2018
(It is England in the 70s. My dad has been playing football — soccer — and ruptured his Achilles tendon. He had it repaired and spent six months in a cast from his foot to his knee. He is at the hospital, with the cast freshly removed, for an appointment with a physiotherapist.)
Physiotherapist: “I am going to put this skipping rope on the ground, and I want you to jump over it.”
Dad: “No.”
Physiotherapist: “Go on; you’ll be fine.”
Dad: “No way. You’ve got to be kidding.”
Physiotherapist: “I know what I am doing.”
(They argue a bit. But Dad gives in. SNAP! The Achilles tendon snaps all the way up the back of his leg to his knee. He then spends nine months with a plaster from his foot to his hip. Fast forward to the 2000s. Dad decides to get some soil delivered so he can work on a garden bed out the front while Mum takes it easy. He books the delivery of soil and realises my car is in the way of where it should be delivered. No problem, he thinks; he’ll just move the car. It doesn’t start, so he decides to roll it. It doesn’t have to go far, so he takes his foot off the brake, uses his other leg to get it started and SNAP. The car is fine. But there goes his Achilles tendon. It’s on the other foot, but he knows the feeling well. Despite being in a lot of pain, he is already in the car. The foot he’s damaged is his left, and he only needs the right to drive to the hospital, so he does so. Eventually he’s seen by the doctor.)
Doctor: “So, what seems to be the problem?”
Dad: “I’ve snapped my Achilles tendon.”
Doctor: *laughs* “It’ll just be sprained.”
Dad: “I know what you’re thinking, but in this case, you’re going to have to trust me.”
(Dad gets a scan; it is snapped. The doctor turns to him, bewildered.)
Doctor: “How did you know? And how did you drive here?”
Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Nurses, Oregon, USA | Healthy | September 23, 2018
(I go to the ER one night for suspected appendicitis. The nurse orders a blood draw and urine sample.)
Nurse: “We’ll run your blood to see if anything is unusual, run a pregnancy test on your urine, and then go from there.”
Me: “No need. There’s no chance that I’m pregnant.”
Nurse: “We have to make sure.”
Me: “I’m sure. If you look at my intake, you’ll see that I had a complete hysterectomy six years ago. I also haven’t had sex with a penis in four years. If by some dark magic I’m pregnant, I’ve got bigger things to worry about than my appendix.”
(The nurse didn’t care, and the doctor ordered a pregnancy test, anyway. Lo and behold, it was negative.)
Baltimore, Bizarre, Doctor/Physician, Maryland, Medical Office, Musical Mayhem, Non-Dialogue, USA | Healthy | September 17, 2018
A few years ago, I was having some issues with irregular periods and had to have my first pelvic exam. It was something I had avoided for a long time, because even the idea of it put me in a panic. My mom suggested I go to her gynecologist, and I agreed, largely because she was a woman and I refused to do it with a male doctor.
So, the day of the appointment finally came and I was a nervous wreck over it, actually nearly throwing up at times. But I went and met with a nurse first, and she put me a tiny bit more at ease.
But not for long. I was taken into the exam room and handed a “gown” to change into. I was told to have it open in the front, but it didn’t even come close to fitting me, so I was practically naked. If I pulled it as tight as I could around me, there were still at least six inches of skin uncovered across my chest, stomach, and lap. Then, the doctor didn’t come in for over half an hour, and at that point I was crying out of anxiety. When she finally came in, she asked if a student shadowing her could sit in, and I’m glad now I said yes.
The doctor began by rather aggressively checking my breasts while she started singing the opening lines to the song Do-Re-Mi from The Sound of Music, “Let’s start at the very beginning, a very good place to start.” She explained by telling me she had a two-year-old grandson who could only be calmed down by The Sound of Music when he was worked up, and she thought maybe it would help me, too. I was speechless.
I’m not sure why she thought it was a good idea to compare a grown woman having an anxiety attack to a tantrum-throwing toddler, but I’m still offended. The rest of the exam was relatively uneventful, with the student talking to me and holding my hand through much of it. I’ve promised myself that I will not let this experience scare me away from potentially necessary medical care in the future. But The Sound of Music is completely ruined for me forever.
Australia, Extra Stupid, Medical Office, Patients | Healthy | September 16, 2018
(Our clinic gives out a Privacy Consent form to new patients, making them aware that the information given will be forwarded to their doctor when results are ready, and to medicare to claim their Bulk Billing. Our clipboards usually have about fifty forms on them, all the same. A patient comes to the desk with one and hands it to me.)
Patient: *cheerily* “Finally. Here you go.”
Me: “Thank you! Have a seat.”
(I take the top one off and get ready to scan it into his file when I notice the second is filled out, as well.)
(I flip through the forms. They are all filled out. Luckily there were only nine left on the clipboard. I’d hate to see what would have happened if there had been fifty like all the other clipboards. Not long after, [Coworker #2 ] is going through the draws beside me.)
California, Jerk, Patients, USA, Vet | Healthy | September 15, 2018
(Tapeworm infections are not uncommon in our area. Thankfully, they are easily treated, and in the case of dogs, easily prevented. Cats are harder because they can get the worms from eating infected rodents, but dogs cannot. Generally, when a dog has tapeworms, that means they have at some point in the past had fleas. The flea larvae ate a tapeworm egg, and then the flea grew up and the dog ate the flea. Every case of canine tapeworms I have ever diagnosed can be traced back to fleas. So, when I prescribe tapeworm medication, I also make sure the pet is on a monthly flea control — either drops or pills. I have just finished explaining this to a woman whose toy poodle has tested positive for tapeworms.)
Owner: “Well, that is impossible. [Cutesy name that is longer than the dog] has never had fleas. You said, ‘generally,’ so there is another way, right?”
Me: “Well, yes, but–”
Owner: “Then that is obviously how it happened. [Dog] is groomed regularly, and we have a maid service and a gardener, so there is absolutely no way she could have been exposed to icky bugs.”
Me: “Well, I mean, in theory–”
Owner: “Theory nothing! [Dog] is in pristine condition without any of those monthly drops that common mutts need. So, we will be treating the tapeworms she got by the other method, but we will not be taking flea medications.”
Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but there is just no way–”
Owner: “Look here, missy. I know [Head Doctor at the practice], and if I have to call him and tell him that you think my pedigreed poodle has fleas, nobody is going to be happy.”
Me: *sigh* “Okay, but I have one question for you.”
Owner: “Yes?”
Me: “How did she get the sheep’s skull open?”
Owner: “What?!”
Me: “If [Dog] didn’t get tapeworms from fleas, then the only way would be if she killed a sheep and ate its brains. So, please tell me, how did she kill the sheep?”
Owner: *blushes* “So… maybe there could have been one flea, once.”
Bad Behavior, Hospital, Nurses, Ohio, USA | Healthy | September 14, 2018
Thirty-five years ago, I gave birth to our first child. The attending nurse was extremely cold and strict. In fact, we dubbed her Sergeant [Nurse].
At one point in my labor, Sergeant [Nurse] suggested strapping me down. They’d just had a fifteen year old who was high, jumped out of the ambulance as it was pulling up, and later tried to slit her wrists. So, maybe — just maybe — she was justified in thinking the worst. However, I wasn’t fifteen, wasn’t high, and had been handling labor so well that my husband and I were complimented profusely.
Delivery went smoothly, but Sergeant [Nurse] did not let us hold our son. She simply showed him to us and took him away. Later, in my room, a close friend who was a nurse in the hospital came by to see me. When I expressed worry because Sergeant [Nurse] had taken the baby away so quickly, my friend was angry. She went to get our son. When she came back with him, she was even angrier.
The reason? Sergeant [Nurse] had told her I shouldn’t see the baby because I was just going to give him up for adoption, anyway!
Where she got that idea, I have no idea. Yes, I was young — eighteen — but I was married, and my husband had been there, very supportive and caring, during the entire labor and delivery. We had been showing our excitement and pleasure to be having a baby during the whole process. What idiot could watch two such happy new parents and decide that they intended to give away their baby?!
Assisted Living, Bellingham, Extra Stupid, Patients, USA, Washington | Healthy | September 12, 2018
(I work in assisted living as a nurse, overseeing over eighty residents.)
Resident’s Daughter: “I’ve been thinking about talking to the doctor about stopping my mom’s [antipsychotic medication].”
Me: “Is there a particular reason you’ve been thinking about this?”
Resident’s Daughter: “Yes, after visiting her a lot I can see she’s been doing much better, and I don’t think she needs it anymore.”
(This specific medication stops hallucinations, delusions, etc., and the resident has been on it over a year without side effects.)
Me: “Yes, she is doing great; the medication is working great for her.”
Resident’s Daughter: “Well, I want her to stop the medication; she doesn’t need it anymore.”
(At this point the resident’s daughter is getting irritated, and there is no reasoning with her.)
Me: “Well, the doctor will need to fax us a signed order to stop any medications; you can call and request this. But I can’t just stop a medication without a doctor’s orders.”
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