Death Is A Pre-Existing Condition
BIZARRE, FUNNY NAMES, GERMANY, INSURANCE, MEDICAL OFFICE, PATIENTS, RECEPTION | HEALTHY | MARCH 13, 2019
(I work for an insurance company. When people forget or lose their insurance cards, the doctor’s office often calls us to confirm if the insurance is up and running. I get one of these calls.)

Receptionist: “I am calling to confirm the insurance of a patient. It’s [Patient], born [date], living at [address].”

(I look up the data, double checking that I am really talking to a doctor’s office.)

Me: “Yeah, he was insured with us up to [date a few months in the past].”

Receptionist: “Well, do you know where he is insured now? He is sitting here, waiting for treatment.”

Me: “What do you mean, he is sitting there? According to my information, he died a few months ago.”

(Turns out, the doctor had two patients with the same name and birthday, and both were insured with us. And the receptionist called up the file just using that information. Only after we asked the patient for his address did we confirm that he was the other patient. I still wonder what went through his mind when the receptionist told him, “I have your insurance on the line; they say you’re dead.”)

Time To Take A Breather
BIZARRE, JERK, MEDICAL OFFICE, PATIENTS, USA | HEALTHY | MARCH 13, 2019
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

(I am a medical assistant in a community health clinic, with a fully-stocked retail pharmacy on the premises. This patient uses our pharmacy and has been put on a strict refill schedule for his emergency inhalers due to extreme overuse. Normal use is a maximum of two of each per month. He had gone through nine of [Inhaler #1 ] in two months before the pharmacist contacted the doctor. The pharmacists have counseled him multiple times on proper use, and I’ve reached out multiple times to offer an appointment to address the root cause of his trouble breathing. He declines every time, claiming he needs his inhalers to breathe, that he’s going to have a coronary without them, and that we just want him to not be able to get enough oxygen. Every time I hear this rant, I note that it is extremely long-winded and that he can get through multiple run-on sentences without having to take a breath. His doctor has even called him personally to lay down the refill schedule and explain the cardiac-related consequences of continued overuse. I receive a voicemail from this patient, in which he goes on with another long-winded rant about how the doctor NEEDS to refill his medication. Because of a very well-documented refill schedule and the doctor’s notes that he will NOT refill early under any circumstance, as well as previous in-person discussions with this doctor about this patient, I don’t even need to ask the doctor to advise on the situation. I see that one [Inhaler #2 ] should be available for a refill, but [Inhaler #1 ] won’t be available for another week and a half; he’s literally filled it just a few days ago! I call the patient. This is part of the way into the call, and yes, he is yelling the entire time.)

Me: “With all due respect, the inhalers are only treating your symptoms. Continuing to use them at the rate you were doing so puts you at serious risk for a cardiac event, including a heart attack—“

Patient: “NOT GIVING ME MY INHALERS PUTS ME AT A RISK FOR A CORONARY BECAUSE I’M NOT GETTING ENOUGH OXYGEN. YOU PEOPLE JUST DON’T WANT ME TO BREATHE!”

Me: “Sir, we don’t want you to have a coronary, either, which is why we want to address the root cause of your condition.”

Patient: “NO. YOU STOP THERE. JUST TELL THE DOCTOR THAT HE NEEDS TO MAKE THE PHARMACIST FILL MY PRESCRIPTION! THEN THE PHARMACIST FILL BE REQUIRED TO FILL IT!”

Me: “[Doctor] can’t make the pharmacist do anything.”

Patient: “YES, HE CAN! ONCE HE WRITES THE PRESCRIPTION THE PHARMACIST IS REQUIRED BY LAW TO FILL IT!”

Me: “Sir, [Doctor] is a doctor; he is not a supervising pharmacist. He can only write the prescription. Pharmacies are allowed, by law, to question and even deny prescriptions at their own discretion for patient safety.”

Patient: “DON’T YOU INSULT MY INTELLIGENCE!”

(He didn’t get his inhaler refilled early. I later went down to the pharmacy and told the supervising pharmacist. He found it even funnier than I did!)

Time To Take A Breather
BIZARRE, JERK, MEDICAL OFFICE, PATIENTS, USA | HEALTHY | MARCH 13, 2019
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

(I am a medical assistant in a community health clinic, with a fully-stocked retail pharmacy on the premises. This patient uses our pharmacy and has been put on a strict refill schedule for his emergency inhalers due to extreme overuse. Normal use is a maximum of two of each per month. He had gone through nine of [Inhaler #1] in two months before the pharmacist contacted the doctor. The pharmacists have counseled him multiple times on proper use, and I’ve reached out multiple times to offer an appointment to address the root cause of his trouble breathing. He declines every time, claiming he needs his inhalers to breathe, that he’s going to have a coronary without them, and that we just want him to not be able to get enough oxygen. Every time I hear this rant, I note that it is extremely long-winded and that he can get through multiple run-on sentences without having to take a breath. His doctor has even called him personally to lay down the refill schedule and explain the cardiac-related consequences of continued overuse. I receive a voicemail from this patient, in which he goes on with another long-winded rant about how the doctor NEEDS to refill his medication. Because of a very well-documented refill schedule and the doctor’s notes that he will NOT refill early under any circumstance, as well as previous in-person discussions with this doctor about this patient, I don’t even need to ask the doctor to advise on the situation. I see that one [Inhaler #2] should be available for a refill, but [Inhaler #1] won’t be available for another week and a half; he’s literally filled it just a few days ago! I call the patient. This is part of the way into the call, and yes, he is yelling the entire time.)

Me: “With all due respect, the inhalers are only treating your symptoms. Continuing to use them at the rate you were doing so puts you at serious risk for a cardiac event, including a heart attack—“

Patient: “NOT GIVING ME MY INHALERS PUTS ME AT A RISK FOR A CORONARY BECAUSE I’M NOT GETTING ENOUGH OXYGEN. YOU PEOPLE JUST DON’T WANT ME TO BREATHE!”

Me: “Sir, we don’t want you to have a coronary, either, which is why we want to address the root cause of your condition.”

Patient: “NO. YOU STOP THERE. JUST TELL THE DOCTOR THAT HE NEEDS TO MAKE THE PHARMACIST FILL MY PRESCRIPTION! THEN THE PHARMACIST FILL BE REQUIRED TO FILL IT!”

Me: “[Doctor] can’t make the pharmacist do anything.”

Patient: “YES, HE CAN! ONCE HE WRITES THE PRESCRIPTION THE PHARMACIST IS REQUIRED BY LAW TO FILL IT!”

Me: “Sir, [Doctor] is a doctor; he is not a supervising pharmacist. He can only write the prescription. Pharmacies are allowed, by law, to question and even deny prescriptions at their own discretion for patient safety.”

Patient: “DON’T YOU INSULT MY INTELLIGENCE!”

(He didn’t get his inhaler refilled early. I later went down to the pharmacy and told the supervising pharmacist. He found it even funnier than I did!)

An Urgent Need For Details
MEDICAL OFFICE, PATIENTS, STUPID, UK | HEALTHY | MARCH 12, 2019
(In the UK, doctor appointments are generally booked in advance, although there are a few reserved for people who phone on the day for emergencies. The phone rings.)

Me: “Good morning, medical centre.”

Patient: “I’d like to make an appointment with a doctor, please.”

Me: “Okay, if it’s urgent, I can fit you in today, or if it’s not urgent I have an appointment in two days.”

Patient: “I don’t know if it’s urgent or not.”

Me: “Okay, well, if you give me a brief idea of what it’s concerning, I can help you decide.”

Patient: “It’s private. I’ll only discuss it with a doctor.”

Me: “Okay, fair enough. So, did you need an urgent appointment or can it wait a few days?”

Patient: “I’ve told you I don’t know if it’s urgent or not!”

Me: “As I’ve said, if you give me some idea of what it’s concerning—“

Patient: *interrupting* “It’s private! I’m not telling the receptionist!”

Me: “That’s fair enough but then I need you to tell me whether or not it’s urgent.”

Patient: “How many times?! I don’t know!”

Me: “Okay, I’ll give an example. If it’s just something like a sick note–”

Patient: *interrupting again getting increasingly angry* “I don’t need a sick note!”

Me: “It was just an example to help explain the difference between urgent and non-urgent appointments. If you don’t tell me which you need, I can’t book you in.”

Patient: “Well, how am I supposed to know if it’s urgent or not if you won’t tell me?!”

(They then hung up without ever having booked an appointment, or even given their name. I guess it wasn’t that urgent after all.)

A Rags To Rashes Story
LABORATORY, NON-DIALOGUE, SAFETY, STUPID, USA | HEALTHY | MARCH 12, 2019
My dad likes to share this story of when he worked in a science lab.

There were massive security protocols in place for everything, but one day, a pile of what looked like rags was left in a high-traffic area. People were basically forced to step on the rags to walk through. Nobody seemed to be paying attention to them, or be concerned that they were just lying there.

My dad saw them when he arrived for the day and was finally the one who followed protocol and called it in.

Apparently, the response was something to behold. The lab was shut down. Nobody in the entire lab facility was allowed to leave until they went through thorough decontamination; since it was a high-traffic area, basically everyone had to be considered “exposed” to… whatever it was. Their clothes and shoes were confiscated. People in Hazmat suits came, collected the rags, shut down the wing for decontamination, and left everyone sitting around for hours, unable to do anything or leave.

At the end of the day, an all-clear was given: “We’ve determined that there’s no contamination or exposure from the rags. However, if anyone develops a fungus-like infection or rash, please report it immediately.”

My dad commented, “That’s so comforting to hear.”

The entire staff got to be dragged in for a refresher on safety protocols and “why we don’t just walk through a potential contamination hazard.”

The Hotel D’Mentia
ASSISTED LIVING, GOLDEN YEARS, PATIENTS, THE NETHERLANDS | HEALTHY | MARCH 11, 2019
(This happens when I am just 17 years old. I get a summer job, one of my first jobs ever, in a retirement home serving coffee and tea in the public living room during the afternoons. This interaction happens with one of the residents. She has Alzheimer’s but I do not know that at the time, and it is one of my first times interacting with someone in that condition.)

Elderly Lady: *very politely* “May I inquire if it is possible for me to stay in the same room one more night?”

Me: *a bit confused, since she lives here* “Um, this is not a hotel, so your room is yours, of course.”

Elderly Lady: “No, I booked a room here and I would like to pay for one more night’s stay, please.”

Me: *still confused* “But this is a retirement home; you live here.”

Elderly Lady: *suddenly a bit shocked and looking around* “Oh, my gosh. I am so sorry; I am in the wrong place! I will go to my sister’s house and stay with her tonight. Thank you.”

(With that, she walks out of the building and leaves me very confused and worried! I realize that this lady does not seem to have a full grasp of the present or reality and I go to find a nurse. I am worried the lady will get lost or injured. The nurse laughs and knows who I am talking about. She says that the lady will come back eventually by herself, as usual. I continue with my tasks but am still worried. When I am almost done with my shift, who would walk in but the elderly lady from before! I immediately walk up to her.)

Elderly Lady: *very politely* “Excuse me. I cannot seem to locate my sister’s house. May I inquire if it is possible for me to stay in the same room one more night?”

Me: “Of course, madam. Your room is ready for you; it is the same room as usual. You are welcome to stay as long as you like.”

Elderly Lady: *enormous smile on her face* “Why, thank you, miss. Such good service. I always enjoy staying here.”

(With that, she happily went to her room. I was so relieved she managed to come back. There was no benefit or point in arguing with her and trying to make her understand her circumstances; it would only make her feel scared, confused, and miserable. I felt that that would just be mean.)

An Ambulatory Story
EDITORS' CHOICE, HOSPITAL, IMPOSSIBLE DEMANDS, PATIENTS, STUPID, UK | HEALTHY | MARCH 11, 2019
(A friend of mine has had problems with a stomach ulcer for some time. Today it’s causing a lot of pain, so he goes into A&E to get it checked.)

A&E Receptionist: “Since you haven’t been to the hospital with this problem for over a year, you need a referral from your doctor in order to be seen.”

(He then leaves, but sits in the car still in the hospital car park to phone the GP.)

GP: “Well, I can refer you, but if the pain is that bad you need to phone [non-emergency urgent care line] to get an appointment straight away.”

(He phones this number and explains all of the symptoms.)

Call Handler: “With the symptoms you’ve explained, you need to be seen straight away. We’ll send an ambulance on blue lights to you now.”

Friend: “I’m in the hospital car park; I can walk to A&E from here.”

Call Handler: “No, absolutely no walking there. We’ll send you an ambulance.”

Friend: “I’m in the hospital car park! I don’t need an ambulance!”

Call Handler: “With your symptoms, you must be transported to the hospital via an ambulance. It’s not safe for you to get yourself there.”

Friend: “I can see three ambulances from here! I can go and over and sit in one if it makes you feel better!”

(They did eventually consent to allowing him to walk the 50 feet back into the hospital himself.)

Take A Breath And Think About It
CALIFORNIA, MEDICAL OFFICE, PATIENTS, USA | HEALTHY | MARCH 9, 2019
(I work at a sleep clinic work with people who have sleep disorders such as apnea and Hypopnea. These disorders, in a nutshell, make a person stop breathing or breathe so shallowly the oxygen in their blood is affected like with apnea. And I get this almost every time I’m working when I put CPAP on a patient!)

Patient: “Excuse me, miss? I can’t breathe with this thing on!”

Me: *after seeing them stop breathing for almost a minute* “Well, you aren’t breathing with it off, either.”

You’ve Got Male, But Not Babies
BIGOTRY, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, MEDICAL OFFICE, NURSES, PATIENTS, UK, WALES | HEALTHY | MARCH 7, 2019
(I am a trans guy, currently at the doctor’s office for an ear infection. The person I’m seeing about it is the nurse practitioner, our practice’s head nurse.)

Nurse: “Are you sexually active?”

Me: “Yes.”

Nurse: “Is there a chance you could be pregnant?”

Me: “Nope.”

Nurse: “I know your partner is male; you could be pregnant.”

Me: “I’m not.”

Nurse: “Just because you think you’re a man, that doesn’t mean you can’t get pregnant.”

Me: “Not pregnant.”

Nurse: “You still have female anatomy. Quit pretending you don’t. All you people are like this, thinking you can’t get pregnant because you think you’re not a girl. I’m giving you a pregnancy test.”

Me: “I had a hysterectomy last year; my medical records are in front of you.”

Nurse: “That doesn’t matter. You people are all like this. I’m giving you a pregnancy test.”

Having A Hard Time Understanding
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, HOSPITAL, STUPID, USA | HEALTHY | MARCH 5, 2019
(I work in a hospital laboratory. One of the tests we do is clotting times in order to monitor dosages of blood thinners. Basically, we do some magic with the blood, and the machine counts the seconds until the specimen is clotted, hence “clotting times.”)

Doctor: *on the phone* “Hey, do you have the results for [test] yet?”

Me: “Nope, but it’s running right now.”

Doctor: “Well, do you have any idea how much longer it’s going to be? The patient is waiting on their next dose.”

Me: “If I knew how much longer it would take, I’d have the results.”

Doctor: “Huh?”

Me: “[Test] is measured in time. The unit of measure is seconds.”

Doctor: “Oh. Well, carry on, then.”

That’s Not How Not Working Works
LIARS/SCAMMERS, MEDICAL OFFICE, TEXAS, USA | HEALTHY | MARCH 3, 2019
(I work at a multi-doctor cardiology office as a receptionist. This story comes directly from my coworker, who sits beside my station.)

Coworker: “Thank you for calling [Clinic]. How can I help you?”

Caller: “Yeah, I have a return-to-work form that needs to be filled out. Can your doctor get it done for me today?”

Coworker: “Which doctor do you see at our office?”

Caller: “I don’t see anyone up there.”

Coworker: “You would have to be a patient up here for any of the doctors to fill out.”

Caller: “So, they can’t fill it out for me?”

Coworker: “No, you’re not a patient here. They wouldn’t know if you can return to work or not.”

Caller: “Well, can I see one of the doctors today?”

Coworker: “They wouldn’t be able to see you today, no. What do you need the signature for, anyway?”

Caller: “I hurt my leg.”

Coworker: “I don’t think a cardiologist can sign on a leg injury unless it’s vein related. You may need your primary doctor to sign it.”

Caller: “I don’t have a doctor. I just wanted someone to sign my letter so I don’t have to work.”

Medicine Prices Can Wind You
HEALTH & BODY, NON-DIALOGUE, PATIENTS, PHARMACY, REVOLTING, SILLY, USA | HEALTHY | MARCH 1, 2019
I had been having horrible stomach cramps, to the point where I could barely stand. I’ve already had my appendix removed, so my doctor ran a few other tests and determined the pain was from a bowel obstruction. He sent me home with instructions to drink more water and take a laxative and some OTC pain killers.

While waiting in the checkout line with my purchase, several waves of cramps came over me and I started seeing stars. The cashier saw me start to stumble and called for help. More stars appeared before the pain became so intense I passed out.

When I regained consciousness, there was a crowd surrounding me with a mixture of emotions on their faces. Some were concerned, others embarrassed, and others looked like they were trying not to laugh, but none of them are looking at me. I started to sit up and the associate closest to me — the pharmacist who helped me pick my laxative — told me to stay still and wait for the ambulance to arrive.

I asked what happened and the pharmacist blushed deeper. I looked down to make sure I hadn’t lost control of my bladder. I hadn’t, but then I realized my stomach didn’t hurt as much anymore. I made that comment aloud, and some of the crowd laughed. A man from the crowd leaned in and told me that when I hit the floor, I’d released the biggest, loudest, longest fart he’d ever heard out of any human being.

The people gathered around were obviously there to see how I handled the news of my flatulent faux pas. I was terribly embarrassed, but I was also so relieved that I wasn’t in pain anymore, I just laughed until I cried. The ambulance arrived shortly thereafter and gave me the okay to go home. I apologized to everyone in the vicinity and told them I hoped the rest of their day went better than mine.

Brace Yourself; Parents Are Coming
DENTIST, IMPOSSIBLE DEMANDS, JERK, PATIENTS, TEXAS, USA | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 28, 2019
(I’m a dental assistant at an orthodontics office where we have several locations, but we switch between locations daily. It’s planned out months in advance for scheduling purposes which doctors and team will be at which location. I’m covering phones for some girls that work front desk because the assistants don’t have any patients when this goes down over the phone. A patient’s Momzilla calls.)

Mom: “My son has a broken bracket again. I need an appointment for today to fix it.”

Me: “All right, well, we’re pretty slow for the next few hours at [location], but if you can come in before the afternoon we can see him.”

(I get the patient info to look at the chart and schedule her son.)

Mom: “You make sure the doctor knows this is an emergency. I have had to come in twelve times already to fix multiple brackets, and he only got his braces on five months ago. This is ridiculous; you all are supposed to know what you’re actually doing there. I’ll be at [location that’s closed] in an hour.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry about that, but [location I’m at] is the one that’s open today.”

Mom: “What? That doesn’t work for me. Didn’t you hear me say this is an emergency? Tell the doctor to come to this office for my son.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we will be getting busy soon, and our doctor can’t just leave for another location. If you can make it to this one today, I’ll schedule that walk-in, but it’s Friday, and the next day we have appointments at that location isn’t until Wednesday.”

Mom: “YOU ARE THE WORST OFFICE IVE EVER DEALT WITH! WEDNESDAY IS TOO FAR AWAY!”

Me: “Okay, well, maybe you should stop letting him have what looks like taffy and caramel popcorn, which we told you he is not allowed to have because it can break his brackets or wire. I assisted the doctor the last three times your son was in, and he also can’t brush out all the bits of those foods from his back teeth, so at this point, there’s nothing we can do if you can’t listen to simple directions.”

(The mom hung up on me, and later called and told the front desk girls that it was no big deal, and they’d just come in on Wednesday.)

Men Are Stupid
COFFEE SHOP, ENGLAND, NURSES, STUPID, UK | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 26, 2019
(I am a male nurse. On my coat is my “Man of Men” pin badge in support of Prostate Cancer UK, since my partner had surgery for prostate cancer in 2018. The badge is of a male stick figure with a smaller male figure within it. Whilst taking my order, a young male barista sees the badge and says:)

Barista: “That badge is really cool; what does it mean?”

Me: “It’s from Prostate Cancer UK. Did you know that it’s the biggest cause of death in men now? Since my partner was diagnosed, I’m keen to support the cause.”

Barista: “Wow… I wonder why it affects so many more men, then?”

Me: “Erm…”

It’s An Inherited Condition
MEDICAL OFFICE, PARENTS/GUARDIANS, PATIENTS, SILLY, SWEDEN | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 25, 2019
(I am a family doctor. A man in his thirties books an appointment because he has felt so extremely tired the last three years. It turns out he has got a job that requires a thorough physical test every year, and he just recently passed one of them, so I am a bit confused about the situation with the extreme tiredness that has lasted so long. I order some standard blood tests just to be sure and continue my conversation with the man.)

Me: “And how does your family situation look?”

Patient: “Well, I got a wife and two kids.”

Me: “All right, and how old are the kids?”

Patient: “Two and three years old.”

(The diagnosis turned out to be parenthood.)

Can’t See Why Some People Become Parents
BAD BEHAVIOR, GERMANY, MEDICAL OFFICE, OPTOMETRIST/OPTICIAN, PARENTS/GUARDIANS, STUPID | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 24, 2019
(Ophthalmologist’s offices in Germany have a rotating system of which office has to stay open for emergencies on the weekends. Today, it’s our office’s turn and I’m manning the front desk. A couple comes in with their five-year-old daughter. She has a very red eye and says it hurts a lot. I take their info and ask how long she’s had those symptoms.)

Mother: “I think since this afternoon — a couple of hours, maybe.”

Me: “Okay. Did something happen? Did she get something in her eye?”

Mother: “I don’t think so; I was watching her all the time.”

(The mother looks a little annoyed at my questioning and the father just nods, apathetic. I give some numbing eye drops to the girl to ease the pain and send her right to the doctor. My coworker follows in, only to come back out some minutes later looking rather angry.)

Coworker: “Guess what? This girl has a metal splinter burnt into her cornea.”

Me: “She has what?”

Coworker: “Yes, her father let her watch him using the angle grinder without safety goggles.”

Me: “And he didn’t think that might be kind of… dangerous?”

Coworker: “Apparently not. I’m getting the instruments to get the splinter out.”

(My coworker goes back in to the doctor and they start trying to get the metal out. After a while, the couple and the girl storm past me out of the door, the mother looking angry, the girl rather relieved with a patch on her eye, and the father pouting. My coworker and the doctor come out right behind, looking exhausted.)

Coworker: “WOOOOOW!”

Me: “What happened?”

Doctor: “The girl was wriggling all. The. Time. [Coworker] couldn’t hold her by herself, so I asked the mother to hold the girl, too. When I was just about to pick the splinter out, the mother let her wiggling daughter go and said, ‘Oh, no, I almost got a cramp in my hand,’ and I was thinking, ‘Oh, no, I almost impaled your daughter’s eye, but good for you that you didn’t get a cramp!’”

Me: “What caring parents this girl has…”

Keeping Your Patients Straight Is Harder Than It Looks
HOSPITAL, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, NURSES, USA | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 23, 2019
(I’m getting an x-ray done of my back for a suspected back fracture. Essentially, I am in so much pain I can’t stand straight; I’m sort of bending over and favoring one side. The technician is setting me up by the machine but frowns.)

Technician: “Can you stand up straight? We aren’t going to get a clear picture this way.”

Me: *wincing, gasping in pain as I clearly struggle to even stand up* “No?”

Technician: “Oh… Right.”

(She figured out another way.)

The Patient Is Gluten-Free; The Doctor Is Brain-Free
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, LAZY/UNHELPFUL, MEDICAL OFFICE, TEXAS, USA | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 22, 2019
(I’ve been suffering from chronic pain and fatigue for years, and my GP refers me to a rheumatologist following some concerning test results. I’m in my mid-twenties and walking with a limp.)

Doctor: “You were referred to me because of your test results, but this test often shows false positives. You probably have nothing to worry about. I’ll order you a new series of blood tests. Now, you indicated that you’re in pain. Where does it hurt the most?”

Me: “It varies; some days it hurts–”

Doctor: *interrupting* “Where does it hurt the most right now?”

Me: “Um… here.” *point at my leg* “But the pain moves around. Sometimes it hurts my jaw, my neck, my shoulders… As I wrote on the forms, it’s sort of all over. It makes it difficult to exercise, to cook, or even to write.”

Doctor: *looking at my leg* “It’s probably just a pinched nerve.” *glancing down* “You indicated that you have psoriasis. Is that it?”

(She leans forward without warning and pokes at a patch of dry skin on my leg.)

Doctor: “Does that hurt? It looks bad.”

Me: “Um… No. It itches sometimes, but it’s pretty mild.”

Doctor: “It doesn’t look like psoriasis. When were you diagnosed?”

Me: “When I was a kid, maybe ten or so?”

Doctor: “And what did your dermatologist say at the time?”

Me: “Um… I was ten, so… I don’t really…?”

Doctor: “You should see your dermatologist. And a neurologist for your back pain. I see here that you’re trying a gluten-free diet? That should help with the pain, and your weight, too.”

Me: “I’m not… What?” *confused* “I’m not ‘trying’ a gluten-free diet. I’m gluten-intolerant. I’ve been gluten-free for over a year.”

Doctor: “Right, it should help. Your pain should decrease, and you should start losing weight.”

Me: *frustrated* “As I said, I stopped eating gluten a year ago. It did help. A lot of my fatigue and stomach issues went away. But if it was going to help with the pain, I think it would have done it by now.”

Doctor: “Well, I think you’ll start to see the benefits soon. Anyway, go to our lab. I’m sure we’ll find that you have nothing to worry about.”

(I was diagnosed with psoriatic arthritis, an autoimmune disease related to psoriasis. I decided to transfer to a different doctor. I requested a copy of my records to send over, and what I read there only strengthened my decision, since her only notes from that appointment said that I was experiencing minor pain and that I should go on a low-carb diet.)

Good Thing Stupidity Isn’t Contagious, Either
ARKANSAS, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, MEDICAL OFFICE, NURSES, USA | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 21, 2019
(My wife has been under the weather for a while. They send her home early from work one day, so I take her to our favourite urgent care clinic. They did really well when she had pneumonia last spring, so we have no reason to doubt their abilities this year. But… the nurse is inattentive. She walks in, sits down, doesn’t look up from her laptop while taking history, and then flees as soon as she can. In meanders the “doctor,” a nurse practitioner. I’m sure there are good ones out there, but I’ve yet to meet a truly competent one. He checks her ears, throat, and breathing, all from the outside. I don’t recall him actually looking in her mouth once. We tell him she’s sneezing blood, vomiting mucus, and having intense sinus pressure.)

Practitioner: “Sounds like an asthma flare-up to me.”

Me: *incredulous* “Asthma attacks cause sinus pressure, pain, and vomiting?!”

Practitioner: “Okay, with a minor sinus infection.”

Me: “Really?!”

Practitioner: “We’ll send over an antibiotic and a steroid and give her a shot.”

Me: “For asthma?”

(He is dismissive of my concerns and leaves. One week later, my throat is swollen and sore and I can barely speak. My wife, feeling a little better than me, calls the clinic.)

Wife: “I was in last week and saw your nurse practitioner. He said I was just having an asthma flare-up, but now my wife has it! I didn’t know asthma was contagious.” *pause* “He’s an idiot and you should screen your people better.” *pause* “No. Screen your people. Make sure they know what they’re talking about when they see someone.” *click*

That Is Off The Charts
HOSPITAL, NON-DIALOGUE, NURSES, OHIO, PATIENTS, STUPID | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 21, 2019
I’m an RN who previously worked in a hospital unit where we dealt with concussions. This is the best thing I’ve ever written in a patient’s chart:

“Patient educated on not riding with chainsaw in the uplifted bucket of the Bobcat.”

Doctors Have Homes?!
HOSPITAL, IMPOSSIBLE DEMANDS, PATIENTS, USA | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 20, 2019
(I am a resident on long call, staying after all of the other residents leave at 5:00 pm and admitting patients until the night team takes over. Near 8:00 pm, I get a call from the emergency department to admit a patient who was brought from her primary care provider’s office. Her condition is not that serious and she is generally pleasant, except for one thing:)

Patient: “[Attending Doctor] promised me that he would meet me right when I arrived!”

Me: “Oh? When did you speak with him?”

Patient: “When I was in the clinic.”

(Note that that was six or seven hours ago.)

Me: “Oh, well, the ambulance company never tells us a time of arrival, and it sounds like yours was pretty delayed. And the ED doesn’t tell every attending doctor when they admit a patient. [Attending Doctor] likely isn’t at the hospital anymore, but I’m sure he would have been here if he had known what time you were coming.”

Patient: “But he promised that he would be here waiting for me when I arrived!”

(She brought it up over and over again, making sure to interject it after each question she answered. I was a little taken aback by how fixated she was on this, especially considering how calm she was about her actual medical condition, and also by the fact that she assumed doctors don’t have lives and spend all of their copious free time at the hospital instead of with, I don’t know, their families? It turns out [Attending Doctor] was at a meeting and he drove back to the hospital to see the patient when it was done. I’m sure the patient was still upset that he did not use his psychic powers to know the exact time she arrived so he could be at the emergency department doors to greet her.)

Avoid Taking These, But When You Do… Go Crazy!
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, MEDICAL OFFICE, STUPID, SWEDEN | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 19, 2019
(I typically never get ill, but when I do catch a bad cold, I tend to get pink eye, an ear infection, and a sinus infection all at once. This happens between Christmas and New Year’s about ten years ago. I’m miserable and decide I need to see a doctor to get some antibiotics. I go to my local health center, but since it is holiday time, my normal doctor is not there. Instead, a temp doctor sees me. At the time I am very overweight.)

Doctor: “You know, you could benefit from losing a few kilos!”

(As if I didn’t know!)

Me: “Okay, but what about my cold?”

Doctor: *while listening to my lungs* “You have really light skin and a lot of birthmarks. Make sure you use sunscreen!”

Me: “Okay, but do I need antibiotics?”

Doctor: “Mmm, but we should only take antibiotics if it is absolutely unavoidable. I’ll give you a prescription, but don’t use it unless you don’t get better in a few days!”

Me: “Fair enough!”

Doctor: *looking through his big book of drugs* “So, how many pills do you need?”

(Yeah, he is serious. He asks me what the dosage is. Then, he calculates from my weight that I should have 21 pills per day! When I protest, he becomes irritated and snarky and gives me the largest dosage in the book.)

Doctor: “Are you happy now? “

(Eh, yeah. Sure! I just left as soon as I could. A few days later, I needed those pills, as I wasn’t getting better. When I spoke to the pharmacy, they were horrified to hear about the 21-pill dosage. They said that they would never, EVER have given me that much. Later, I returned to my regular doctor for a follow-up, and he was just as horrified. He also told me that the dosage I did get was what they give to bad cases of pneumonia. So, yeah, I was cured, but my doctor said that they would never use that doctor again.)

In A Spot Of Bother
BAD BEHAVIOR, DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, MEDICAL OFFICE, OKLAHOMA, STUPID, USA | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 19, 2019
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

(For a month or so, I’ve had a very small lump right at the base of my hairline on my neck. I don’t worry too much about it, as it doesn’t seem to be growing and isn’t painful at all, until one day it very suddenly floods with blood, like a blood blister. I have a very strong family history of melanoma, so anything on my skin that changes color rapidly is cause for alarm, so the next morning I go to the emergency clinic for an opinion as they are the ones that will see me the soonest.)

Doctor #1 : “Okay, let’s have a look

Me: *tipping my head to show him the lump* “It was the same color as my skin before last night when it turned red like that.”

Doctor #1 : “Hmm… Well, it sort of just looks like you may have broken a capillary, but because of that, it’s a bit hard to see what might be under it… Oh, and what’s all that?”

(He points to my shoulder, which is healing up after a nasty acne breakout)

Me: “Oh, I went and visited my home state a week ago; I always break out something awful while I’m there, and it’s just healing up. And besides, the lump was there before then.”

Doctor #1 : “Hmm… Well, I think we should still get you on something for that. That lump could still be acne-related.”

(This seems reasonable enough, so he prescribes me an oral medication for acne and a cream for topical use. He tells me to use both for three days and then come back to check the progress. I do so, and when I return we have the following conversation)

Doctor #1 : “Oh, your shoulder looks much better!”

Me: “Er… Yeah, well, it’s had a few more days to heal.”

Doctor #1 : “So, we should definitely keep you on the acne medication.”

Me: *pause* “Sure.” *with no intention of actually keeping up the entirely pointless medication* “But that lump hasn’t reacted at all.”

(He checks to see that I’m correct)

Doctor #1 : “Huh! Well, then, do you want it off?”

Me: “Well… I mean, I don’t know what it is.”

Doctor: “Oh, well, that’s called a nevi. It’s just a harmless skin growth for the most part, but given your family history of skin cancer, I very strongly suggest you get it removed.”

Me: “Well… All right…”

Doctor #1 : “Great! I’ll be right back!”

(He does the procedure right then — which is not fun, by the way — burning off the “nevi” with an electrical current. I’m honestly a bit hesitant, but I don’t want to be that patient that insists I know more than a medical professional. After he’s done, he starts poking me in the shoulder.)

Doctor #1 : “Oh, what’s this here? You should really get this looked at, too.”

(I think about the spot he’s poking. It’s what I know for a fact is a completely benign mole. It’s perfectly healthy and I’ve had it for ages, and I’m beginning to suspect that this doctor is just of the opinion that I shouldn’t have any sort of blemish anywhere on me.)

Me: “Er… Thanks, but I think we’ll leave that one alone.”

Doctor #1 : “Are you sure? I really think you should have it looked at.”

Me: *now feeling even more uneasy about the whole thing* “I’ll keep that in mind, but I think we’re done for today.”

Doctor #1 : “All right, suit yourself!”

(I go home and let the burn start to heal, but I also look up the word, “nevi.” It means, “mole.” I cannot express how much my complaint was NOT a mole. I kick myself for letting this guy burn whatever it was off, but it quickly becomes apparent that what he ACTUALLY did was burn off the layer of skin covering whatever was causing my complaint. There’s still a bump there, and now it’s much more obvious as it’s turned into a bright red nodule. I do the thing you’re not supposed to do and start Googling, as I figure I can’t cause more harm by looking things up. The theory I land on is that the bump is actually an inflamed lymph node — which I did not previously know could be that near the surface — reacting to some previously unnoticed infection. This is further backed up when, after about another week, I start noticing some more lumps further under the skin, as well as developing a headache localized to that side of my head. Finally, I make an actual appointment at my regular doctor’s office and explain the whole story to him. He actually stares at me for a moment after I tell the story.)

Doctor #2 : “He… he tried to burn it off?”

Me: “Yes. So, you know, that particular lump is going to look especially bad, so you might want to look at the others for better reference.”

Doctor #2 : “Yeah, I’d better.”

(He comes to the exact same conclusion I did, and further traces the issue to a tooth I was preparing to have a crown put on. I hadn’t connected the two because, while the tooth definitely needs work, it wasn’t really painful so I wouldn’t have thought it was infected)

Doctor #2 : “Okay, so… we’re not going to be, you know, giving you any freaking creams for this because, you know, they’re your lymph nodes… I just… God!”

Me: “Yeah, I figured not. Antibiotics, then?”

Doctor #2 : “Yes. And we’ll do some blood work too… I just…. He tried to burn off your lymph node!”

(I left feeling rather vindicated, and as of writing this up, my lymph nodes have finally started settling down, and my headache is gone. Would have been nice not to have a chunk of my neck burnt off first, though.)

Sick Of Puns
HOSPITAL, INDIANA, NURSES, PUNNY, SCHOOL, SILLY, TEACHERS, USA | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 18, 2019
(This happens to my dad when he is going back to nursing school in his sixties — a story in itself! One time a senior nursing instructor visits the class to give a “very important” presentation. This happens in the late 2000s, and both bird flu and swine flu are of major concern at the time as potential pandemics.)

Senior Instructor: *solemnly, and with a completely straight face* “I need to teach you how to recognize the difference between swine flu and bird flu. If it’s bird flu, you need a tweetment. If it’s swine flu, you need an oinkment!”

(The entire class just about busted a gut laughing. My dad said in his entire time in nursing school, this particular instructor was always taciturn and businesslike and NEVER showed this sort of levity, except on this one remarkable occasion.)

So Many Optometrists But They Can’t See What’s Happening
BAD BEHAVIOR, MAINE, MEDICAL OFFICE, RECEPTION, USA | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 17, 2019
(My family and I have been going to the same optometrist, a family friend who grew up with my father, for as long as I can remember. He finally retires after around 50 years and sells his business to a local chain optometry company. I get one final exam in with my regular optometrist, about five months before he retires, and I run out of contact lenses around two months after he retires. I call up his old office, now owned and operated by the chain and of whom I am now a patient, to order more.)

Me: “Hi. This is [My Name]; I was a patient of [Optometrist]. I’d like to order more contacts.”

Receptionist: “Of course. But before we can order more contacts for you, we’ll need you to come in for an exam.”

Me: “Uh… I’m sorry, why?”

Receptionist: “Your prescription is out of date.”

Me: “I just had my last exam seven or eight months ago. Why do I need another one?”

Receptionist: “Because you are a new patient; the optometrist has to see you before he can order your contacts.”

Me: “Okay… How much is an exam?”

Receptionist: “It will be [amount].”

(My old optometrist charged a little more than half the price that was quoted to me. My vision insurance only covers one exam every twelve months, regardless of who gives the exam, and at the price they quoted me I cannot afford a second exam in less than a year. I explain as much to the receptionist.)

Me: “There’s really no way for the optometrist to order me enough contacts to get me through the last four months before my insurance covers another exam?”

Receptionist: “Let me speak with the optometrist; we might be able to work something out. I’ll have to put you on hold.”

Me: “That’s fine.”

(I am on hold for about 20 minutes, and finally, the line cuts to ringing. A completely different person answers.)

Receptionist #2 : “Thank you for calling [Chain Optometrist].”

Me: “Oh… I was on hold, waiting for a different receptionist to ask the optometrist a question.”

Receptionist #2 : “Oh! What was the question, do you know? I might be able to answer it.”

Me: “Whether the optometrist could order me more contacts before I have another exam. I just had one about eight months ago.”

Receptionist #2 : “That shouldn’t be a problem. I don’t know why the other receptionist needed to ask the optometrist that. May I have your name, please?”

Me: “Sure, I’m [My Name].”

Receptionist #2 : *typing audibly* “Okay… Hm, that’s weird.”

Me: “What’s wrong?”

Receptionist #2 : “I don’t have you in my system.”

Me: “That is weird; I thought all my information transferred over fine.”

Receptionist #2 : “Transferred? Which doctor did you see?”

Me: “[Optometrist].”

Receptionist #2 : “I’m sorry, I’m not familiar with that doctor.”

Me: “But you guys just bought his company?”

Receptionist #2 : “Oh… Oh! Oh, you mean in [Town]?”

Me: “Yeah, that’s the one.”

Receptionist #2 : “You called the [City] location; we can’t order you contacts, but the [Town] location where you’re registered as a patient can.”

([City] is a large city about 60 miles away; [Town] is a small town that is about a five-minute drive from my apartment.)

Me: “That’s what I did; I called [Town], then I was put on hold when I asked to order contacts..”

Receptionist #2 : “Ah, I understand. Our home office is in [City], so all hold calls eventually transfer back to us after a certain amount of time.”

Me: “That’s… strange. Could you please transfer me back?”

Receptionist #2 : “Of course. Hold on just a minute, please.”

(I am placed on hold again, again for around twenty minutes. Finally, a third receptionist picks up.)

Receptionist #3 : “Thank you for calling [Chain Optometrist].”

Me: “Hi. this is [My Name]. I was a patient of [Optometrist]. I called earlier to order more contacts.”

Receptionist #3 : “Of course. Let me look up your prescription. Oh… You haven’t seen the optometrist yet.”

Me: *sighs* “No, but I just saw my old optometrist about eight months ago.”

Receptionist #3 : “Well, we can’t order you more contacts until you see the optometrist.”

Me: “Yes, I was told this by the first person I spoke to. She put me on hold to ask the optometrist.”

Receptionist #3 : *snorts* “Don’t know why she would do that. She should know we won’t give you any without an exam by our doctor.”

(I have worked customer service for almost ten years, and as such, I don’t want to cause a scene but I am frustrated and this particular receptionist, being so curt with me after the other two were trying to be helpful, irritates me. At this point, including the hold time, I have been on the phone for almost an hour now for what should have been a three-minute call.)

Me: *forcing my voice to be as even as I can* “I’m sorry, let me stop you there. I apologize if I come off as frustrated, but it’s because I am. I have been transferred three times and been on the phone for nearly an hour, and you are the third person I have spoken to. I literally need maybe one full box of contact lenses to get me through four months, as my insurance won’t cover another exam so soon and I can’t afford your exam rate without insurance. Is there really no way for me to get just one box of contacts without seeing your optometrist?”

(There is silence on the line, and I think at first that she hung up. Then, she speaks, very icily and sharply.)

Receptionist #3 : “That is how we do things here. You know, there are four other optometrists within ten miles of us.”

Me: “I see. I’ll take my prescription information now, thank you. I’ll order my contacts from [Mail Order Contacts Service].”

(The receptionist proceeded to read off my prescription to me rapidly and, again, rather sharply. I managed to write it down, and as soon as she finished speaking she hung up on me. I got some recommendations from family and friends, and four months later I very happily saw a different optometrist, whose employees were sympathetic but not surprised when I told them about my experience with the chain. They told me they already had sixteen former patients of [Optometrist] switch over to them after the chain took over! Not a good look for the chain.)

Their Real Selves Bear Teeth
DENTIST, ENGLAND, JERK, LIARS/SCAMMERS, UK | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 15, 2019
(I’m at the dentist, and he suggests I go to the hygienist for a clean, etc. I say okay, though I’m not convinced I need it. I’ve not been to the dentist for a couple of years, but my teeth are in great shape, as I look after them well. The following conversation proves me right, and I have not been back since.)

Hygienist: “You know, your teeth are quite incredibly clean considering it’s been six months since we last saw you.”

Me: “Actually, it’s been two years since you last saw me.”

Hygienist: “Well, you really should have come in before now, then! Your teeth need a clean!”

Me: *long pause* “Goodbye.”

Stuck In A Bloody Cycle
CAR, HEALTH & BODY, ISRAEL, NON-DIALOGUE, POLICE, POLICE STATION | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 13, 2019
About twelve years ago I was riding my motorcycle when I got hit by a driver that didn’t look to see whether the road was clear while exiting her driveway. The impact and subsequent fall wrecked the bike pretty badly; the lights and the mirrors were shattered, the rear brake drum had cracked, the clutch got stuck on partially-disengaged, and the transmission got stuck on third. I was okay, aside from a nasty cut on my chin that got the front of my jacket covered in blood.

After checking myself for bodily injuries and concluding that I had sustained none aside from that cut, I exchanged the mandatory details with the woman that hit me, and told her I wanted to contact the police to have an accident report filled. The woman exclaimed that “she had no time for this,” and promptly drove off, leaving her front bumper, which had torn off in the collision, behind. I then found out that I had no battery remaining on my phone.

I just went to the police station to get that report, on that very bike which was somehow still driveable with all that damage. The officer I spoke to was horrified by the way I looked with all that blood, told me that the report could wait, and urged me to go to the ER to get myself examined. When he asked me whether I could get to the hospital myself, I absent-mindedly just nodded and pointed at the helmet I had in my hand. That seemed to satisfy him and I went on my way.

In retrospect, I don’t know what was worse: the fact that I rode a motorcycle in a condition that made it nowhere near legal to be ridden right up to the police station’s front door, or that the officer, who must have assumed that I was involved in a serious crash, was perfectly fine with me riding the motorcycle involved in that very same crash to the hospital.

The Only Time It’s Acceptable To Ask
HOSPITAL, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, MARYLAND, PATIENTS, USA | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 11, 2019
(My daughter has had an accident at daycare where she smacked her nose pretty hard into the side of a table, so I’ve taken her to the urgent care clinic across the street. Due to the location of the injury, my husband and I have agreed to have them do an x-ray, just in case. Unfortunately, my husband has to return to work, so it’s just me with my daughter. It is important to note that I am also five-months pregnant, and it’s starting to be very obvious.)

X-Ray Tech: “Hi, Mom! We’re all ready to take [Daughter] for her x-ray.”

Me: “Great! Come on, [Daughter]. We’re going to go take a picture of the inside of your head!”

(The tech takes a better look at me, looks down at my rounded belly, looks back up at me, and puts on an impressively good poker face.)

X-Ray Tech: “I’m sorry, but um… I have to ask; is there any chance you might be pregnant?”

Me: “Yes, five months!” *smiles at her for a few seconds, and then the penny drops* “Ohhh, right.”

X-Ray Tech: “I’ll just get one of the nurses to go in with [Daughter].”

(Pregnancy brain is real!)

The Mummy Of All Bad Jokes
MEDICAL OFFICE, PATIENTS, PUNNY, SEATTLE, SILLY, USA, WASHINGTON | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 11, 2019
(I am answering the phone at an OB-GYN office when a woman calls to make an appointment.)

Me: “[Office], how can I help you?”

Woman: *sounding a little nervous but also very excited* “Ah, well, I need an appointment. It’s the strangest thing; I went sightseeing a few months ago, to see the pyramids. I thought I got food poisoning or indigestion from eating things I wasn’t used to. But it’s lasted for a few months, and this morning I glanced in the mirror and thought I looked a little heavier.”

(I can see where this might be heading, and am almost giddy because I can’t believe the fantastic joke opportunity I’m about to have.)

Woman: *continuing* “—so I took a pregnancy test. I think I’m three months pregnant!”

Me: *cheering internally* “Well, ma’am, it sounds like you did get sick on your trip.”

Woman: “Oh?”

Me: *holding back laughter* “You caught the Egyptian flu. You’re going to be a mummy!”

Woman: *laughs*

Me: “And congratulations. Let’s figure out your due date and get in your with one of our doctors.”

Time Heals All Errors
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, HOSPITAL, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, UK, WALES | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 10, 2019
(My father comes off his motorcycle when going round a bend and dislocates his shoulder. This the third time he has dislocated it. This, combined with the fact that he is 65 years old, means the doctors want to keep a close eye on how it is healing. My dad goes to the hospital for a check-up a month or two after the accident.)

Doctor: *looking at scans on the computer* “This doesn’t seem to have healed at all. I think you may need surgery to get this sorted.”

Father: “Are you sure? It feels a lot better.”

Doctor: “Based on what I see, yes. Stay here; I just need to speak someone about getting you scheduled in for the operation.”

(The doctor leaves the office. My father looks at the scans still on the screen and notices something important: the date of the scan is from just after the accident! No wonder it doesn’t appear to be healing. The doctor comes back into the office.)

Doctor: “So, we can get you in—“

Father: “Can I just stop you there? Could you check the date on that scan?”

Doctor: “What?” *checks date and twigs* “Ah. So sorry about that.” *brings up the most recent scan* “That’s much better; the healing seems to on track. We’ll make a follow-up appointment so we can check it again soon.”

Pray They Won’t Be Back(bone)
AUSTRALIA, HOSPITAL, PATIENTS, STUPID | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 8, 2019
(Making bookings for patients is very easy. All I need is the patient’s name, phone, modality, body part, and doctor’s name. I’ve been on the phone for a few minutes. The patient is giving me a rather detailed explanation of why she needs a scan of her back, yet not telling me anything I need to know. I’m polite and don’t interrupt, but I am spending too much time on this call and my coworker needs help with patients lined up.)

Me: “Okay. That doesn’t sound good. Did your doctor want an x-ray, ultrasound, or CT?”

Patient: “Scan of my back. My back.”

Me: “On the form your doctor gave you, did they write XR, CT, or US anywhere?”

Patient: “My doctor’s name is [Doctor].”

Me: “Lovely.” *first piece of information off my checklist, but not what I asked for* “Did they check any boxes? Can you see, ‘spine,’ etc., anywhere?”

Patient: “Yes. It’s so sore. So sore.”

Me: “The paper the doctor gave you. Can you read it to me?”

Patient: “I have a paper. It says nothing.”

Me: *still very polite* “It doesn’t have your name on it? Not the doctor’s name and signature?”

Patient: “Yes, my name is [Patient]!”

(I can’t take it down until I know what they need and what room to start in, so I make a mental note for later.)

Me: “Okay. Now, the paper has nothing on it?”

(I know it’s repetitive, but I have to confirm for what I have to say next if it’s true.)

Patient: “Nothing. There’s nothing!”

Me: “Okay. So, that means its invalid. You’d need to go to the doctor and get him to write you a referral.”

Patient: “It’s here!” *now livid* “No! No. No. It says here!”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Patient: “It says XR spline. Yes, s-p-l-i-n-e! Lubosac — My back!’

(I gathered it was an x-ray lumbosacral spine, but don’t you just love how information materialises?)

The Tiger Comment Was A Bit Of A Stretch
JERK, MEDICAL OFFICE, NURSES, USA, VIRGINIA | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 7, 2019
(When I am pregnant with our first child, my husband and I go to a birthing center for all my prenatal care and then for the birth. This birthing center has two midwives. One is a complete angel, but the other is quite difficult to deal with. Partway through the pregnancy, I notice I have gotten a lot of stretch marks on my stomach and am worried that it looks pretty bad. But since my husband hasn’t commented on or acknowledged them at all, I decide they must not be as noticeable as I thought. Then comes another appointment with the difficult midwife. When she sees my stretch marks, she exclaims:)

Midwife: “You look like you got attacked by a tiger! You really need to start working to prevent getting more.”

(She then proceeds to tell me methods to prevent getting more and warning me that they never go away, while I lay there feeling insecure and embarrassed. I look over at my husband to find him looking angry. When he and I get out to the car after the appointment, before we drive off, I turn to him and ask hesitantly and nervously:)

Me: “So… are they really that bad? Like I was attacked by a tiger?”

Husband: *frustrated sigh* “I could shoot that woman.”

Me: “…”

Husband: “I knew as soon as she started talking it would make you feel bad. I so wanted to knock her out or something.”

Me: “You’d never seemed to notice them, so I thought they weren’t that bad.”

Husband: “Of course I noticed them, but I didn’t care! They don’t matter. And I didn’t say anything because I knew it would make you feel bad! I think you are beautiful! The stretch marks really aren’t a big deal.”

Me: “Oh. Thank you.”

(This attitude is only one of the reasons I’m glad to be married to him.)

Sent A Stinging Note
ARKANSAS, COWORKERS, ELEMENTARY/PRIMARY SCHOOL, LAZY/UNHELPFUL, NON-DIALOGUE, PETS & ANIMALS, TEACHERS, USA | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 6, 2019
My grandmother was a teacher at one of the nearby elementary schools, and at the time she was teaching in this old, wooden building which was located where the playground is now. One day, as she was teaching, a wasp flew in. My grandmother was deathly allergic to wasp stings, so she freaked out, screaming and diving under her desk to avoid it. She ended up writing a note and sent it with a student to the janitor.

The note read, “There’s a wasp in here, and I’m allergic. Come get it!”

The student came back with a reply on the other side of the paper that read, “I know how you feel.”

One of her students killed the wasp for her.

Narcotics By Night
IMPOSSIBLE DEMANDS, INDIANA, JERK, PATIENTS, PHARMACY, USA | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 4, 2019
(The pharmacy where I work is the only 24-hour one in town. We keep all our narcotics in a time-delayed safe that we don’t open at night. The only exception is a few we keep out for hospital patients. One night after 11:00 pm, a lady comes through the drive-thru to drop off a script for one of these medications.)

Me: “We have this in stock and we can have it ready for you around 7:00 am.”

Lady: “I can’t get it now? I’ve been out all day! Can’t you just give me a couple to get me by?”

(I’m thinking, “If you’ve been out all day, why wait until this late at night to get more?”)

Me: “This is in a time-delayed safe, so we can’t fill these at night.”

Lady: “Well, what’s the point in being a full-service, 24-hour pharmacy if you can’t fill prescriptions at night?”

Me: “We can fill most prescriptions at night, but this is in our time-delayed safe which can’t be opened after eight.”

Lady: “I don’t care about anyone else’s prescriptions. This is for me!”

Medicaid: Come Back When There’s More Than One Stomach Hole
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, HOSPITAL, LAZY/UNHELPFUL, USA | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 3, 2019
(I have been extremely sick with stomach issues for quite a long time, but have had zero luck finding a doctor who will take on a Medicaid patient. One day, the pain after trying to eat something becomes so severe that I ask my grandma to take me to the ER. We go to the main hospital downtown and wait. My mom eventually gets off work and comes to take grandma’s place waiting with me. Finally, after over eight hours, I’m called back. We sit with the doctor and talk about my symptoms: non-stop nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, lack of appetite, exhaustion, unable to keep anything solid down, and so on, getting progressively worse over the course of more than a year. I’ve survived on an increasingly all-liquid diet all that time, so it’s clear something’s wrong.)

Doctor: “Well, you’re young, so I’m not too worried about it. I know you’re in school right now. Remember, your state of mind can really affect your body. Have you been depressed at all?”

(Yep, no tests or anything other than checking my blood sugar and doing a pregnancy and drug screening. I am discharged with basically the advice to try to relax and find a GP to discuss things with. Exactly one week later, I’m at home, and this time start vomiting blood pretty much nonstop rather than the usual intermittent basis. I call the nursing helpline for my Medicaid provider.)

Nurse: “You’re bleeding internally. You need to get to an ER immediately. Do you have someone who can drive you, or should I line up a ride for you?”

Me: “Well, I was literally just in the ER last week.”

Nurse: “Miss, you really need to go back. Is there someone who can take you?”

Me: “Yeah, I know my mom will take me if I tell her. Thank you.”

(Sure enough, my mom came to get me, and we headed for the one hospital in town not part of the network that ran the other one, as it was the local Catholic hospital. I was checked in and taken back within a few minutes, the doctor really listened, and they did tests, giving me meds to help with the nausea in the meantime. Turns out, my H. pylori numbers were practically astronomical, and the ultrasound revealed visible swelling where an ulcer was on the brink of eating through my stomach, in addition to the anemia and high white cell count. I effectively got there pretty much just in time. So, yeah, that’s my story of how most of the medical system wanted to effectively leave me to die just because I couldn’t make enough between my four jobs while going to school, and the one hospital that saved my life. Thanks to a scheduler in the local medical system, I have since found a GP and a GI specialist who are working on the underlying autoimmune issue we’ve since found, as well as getting the stomach issues under control that I was left with due to long-term lack of treatment.)

Your Throat Is Fine But Your Brain Is Missing
IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, MEDICAL OFFICE, PATIENTS, USA | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 2, 2019
(The office I work in is in a larger building with other medical offices in it. I’m walking in to work one day and see an older lady standing in the intersection of two hallways looking lost. I’m not wearing scrubs or a uniform of any kind, but I must look like I know where I am going because she stops me with this:)

Old Lady: “Where do I go?”

Me: “Which office are you looking for?”

Old Lady: “I don’t know; where do I go?”

Me: “Are you seeing a doctor or having a procedure done?”

Old Lady: *motions to her throat* “They’re scanning this.”

Me: *thinking this narrows down the possibilities to two offices* “Do you know what kind of scan, or the name of the office you need to be at?”

Old Lady: “They just told me to come in door B.” *our building entrances are marked with letters* “Where do I go?”

Me: “Well, I work at [Radiology Clinic], so follow me and we’ll see if your appointment is with us.”

Old Lady: “But where do I go?”

(Her appointment was with us, but for the next day. We were able to squeeze her in. It happens way too often that patients come for scans but have no idea what it’s for or which doctor sent them. I would be able to understand getting lost if the offices in our building weren’t so clearly marked and there weren’t maps at every entrance.)

School Is Not Much Of An Improvement Over Hospital
BIZARRE, CANADA, HOSPITAL, PATIENTS | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 1, 2019
(I’m a nurse in a smallish community hospital. A number of our patients are awaiting placement in long-term care and aren’t acutely ill. However, because they’re living in a germy hospital, they’re inclined to pick up bugs, and older folks with cognitive decline can get intensely confused with any sort of infection. One morning, one of our longtime patients, an older, bedridden lady, starts telling us all that she’s on a couch in a schoolhouse in a completely different small town and she needs to get back to the hospital. She laughs at us when we try to explain that she’s already in the hospital, and has a shouting match with her husband when he comes in and tries, as well. Later in the day, I’m doing some charting at the nursing station and answer a phone call:)

Me: “[Floor], [My Name] speaking.”

Patient: “Oh, hi. I’m just calling to let you know that I’m not there today; I’m at the school in [Town].”

Me: “[Patient], you are here today. I saw you this morning. I helped with your bath.”

Patient: “No, I’m not. I’m in [town], but I thought I should call in case [Husband] is looking for me.”

Me: “[Patient], your husband was in this morning. To the hospital. Where you are. In room [number]. Look. I’ll walk down the hall to your room.”

Patient: *laughs* “Okay, you do that; I won’t be there, though.”

(I walk down the hall, while talking to the patient on the cordless extension, and into her room. She sees me and continues talking over the phone to me.)

Patient: “Oh, a girl’s here now!”

Me: *hangs up* “[Patient], that’s me; you were just talking to me.”

Patient: *keeps talking into the phone* “See, I’m in [Town] and I need to get back to the hospital!”

(I gave up; she would not be reoriented. Later, I answered a call from our switchboard, who patched through 911. The patient had called them to ask to be returned to the hospital. I had to go back to her room to talk to the 911 dispatch on her phone and cancel the request. Then I disconnected her phone. This patient is recovered and quite lucid once more.)

Must Not Be The Only One With A Damaged Head
ENGLAND, HOSPITAL, LAZY/UNHELPFUL, LONDON, NON-DIALOGUE, STUPID, UK | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 1, 2019
I go to see my dad one day while my mum is away on a trip, to keep him company and to help him get some stuff done. One of the things he wants to do is add new waterproofing strips to the top of his workshop. We set up the ladder and I go up while he cuts some blocks. Rather foolishly, we didn’t do anything resembling good practice while setting up the ladder, a fact that comes back to bite me when I try to climb down it and it slips out from under me. I fall and luckily I land feet-first, but then I tip forward, and this time I land head-first on the patio.

I scream and my dad rushes out. A quick damage assessment has a lot of blood streaming from my head and a small puddle of it on the floor. I should note at this point that my dad and I are absolutely terrible for seeking medical attention. The last time my dad was in hospital he had managed to nearly slice his thumb off, and I, likewise, had not gone to hospital since I was eight. But given the amount of blood, we decide a trip to the hospital might be a good idea.

Since we are close to the hospital, we decide it would be faster and easier to just drive me in. With a towel soaking the blood up, we drive to the hospital and I walk in. It’s worth noting that despite the fact I’m walking, my t-shirt is covered in blood. The towel at my head it quite wet with it, too; anyone with some sense should probably figure I’m an urgent case. The staff who assign severity of cases, however, take a different view on things. First, I have to sit for five minutes, and then I meet with someone to fill out my details before being sent down a hallway to another waiting room. After around five minutes here, the blood loss and shock is getting to me and I literally pass out onto the floor.

According to my dad, I am suddenly swarmed with nurses and doctors, my blood pressure and vitals are taken, and I am shoved onto a bed with a compress applied to my head. At first, however, there is some confusion as to who I am. It turns out the admitting nurse decided my case wasn’t that serious, “because he was walking,” and had listed me as discharged.

I am given a head CT and kept in for six hours of observation, diagnosed with a mild concussion and a large cut to the side of my head, which fortunately closes without the need for stitches. My dad thinks it is hilarious later when a sign on our way out reads, “Would you recommend [Hospital] to a friend?” With the way they handled my case…

Time To Tell Them The Hard, Black Truth
HOME, MADISON, PATIENTS, ROOMMATES, STUPID, USA | HEALTHY | JANUARY 31, 2019
(My flatmate has been seeing a doctor for heart palpitations and has had to do a number of things to troubleshoot it, including wearing a portable heart monitor. One evening we are hanging out in the kitchen.)

Me: “Didn’t the cardiologist say you have to cut down on caffeine?”

Flatmate: “Yeah, so I stopped drinking coffee.”

Me: “How many cups of black tea have you had today already, though?”

Flatmate: “Six. Why?”

She Has To Live Somewhere Else, But At Least She Will Be Living
ADELAIDE, AUSTRALIA, BAD BEHAVIOR, MEDICAL OFFICE, PARENTS/GUARDIANS, SOUTH AUSTRALIA | HEALTHY RELATED | JANUARY 30, 2019
(I’m sitting in a doctor’s office waiting room with my five-year-old son for a routine checkup. In Australia, legally, you do not have to have your parents’ consent for doctor visits once you turn 16, at which point you can apply for your own medicare card, as well. A young girl around 16 or 17 marches through the door and walks up to the receptionist, followed by an older woman who turns out to be her mother. Her mother is WAILING at the top of her lungs, begging her daughter to stop, asking how she could do this to her, etc., in amongst just screaming randomly. Every kid in the practice bolts to their parents and the adults are left to just watch it all unfold.)

Teenage Girl: “Hello. I’m [Teenage Girl] and I’m seventeen and here for my own appointment.”

(Her mother increases her screeching, now sitting firmly in harpy territory.)

Mum: “I AM HER MOTHER AND I DO NOT CONSENT TO THIS.”

(The receptionist, to her credit, simply checks the young girl in, and she goes to sit down and wait. Her mother, still crying and shrieking, follows her and sits between her and another mum with a toddler who looks horrified.)

Mum: *through hiccups and tears* “Make sure you raise him right, but even if you raise him right, he’ll let some big corporation turn him against youuuu!”

(The other mum gets called in for her appointment and makes a hasty getaway, leaving us to listen to the crazy banshee beg and plead and scream at her daughter not to do this. Honestly, at this point, I think the only thing that could cause this reaction would be an abortion, but ohhh, I was wrong. A very perplexed doctor calls the young girl’s name out, and she bolts into the room. Her mother tries to follow but is stopped by the doctor.)

Doctor: “Do you want your mother with you?”

Teenage Girl: “No.”

(This apparently kicks the crazy into overdrive. The mother starts yelling angrily now.)

Mum: “Well, after you get that poison injected into you, you are not coming home and shedding it all over your sisters! You can find somewhere else to live!”

(The mum made an exit and we all realised she was talking about VACCINES. When her daughter emerged from the room she apologised to all of us, and it looked like she’d been crying. A few people offered her tissues and told her she was a brave kid for standing her ground. She had a quiet talk with the receptionist, who called someone, and when I was leaving the receptionist said she’d called the girl’s father for her. Wherever you are, brave girl, I hope you had somewhere to live, and good on you for making the smart choice!)