Have A Heart, Use Your Brain
 

Have A Heart, Use Your Brain
ESTONIA, HOSPITAL, JERK, PATIENTS, STUPID | HEALTHY | AUGUST 17, 2020
This story was told by my neighbour. She is waiting at the hospital for an appointment with an orthopaedist. Her number is called, but before she can stand up and go to the correct office, another woman quickly runs in before her. Puzzled, my neighbour goes to the receptionist.

Neighbour: “Excuse me, could you please help me? I have an appointment with [Doctor], but another lady ran in when my number was called. I have been waiting for that appointment and I would hate to miss it.”

Receptionist: “What? Please, come with me.”

She marches to the doctor’s office with my neighbour following her and opens the door to the office where the doctor is just starting with the woman who stormed in.

Receptionist: “Is your name Mrs. [Neighbour]? And was your number [number #1]?”

Woman: “No, my name is [Woman]. And my number is [number #2].”

Receptionist: *Looking puzzled* “[Number #2]? Isn’t that a number used in a different building? Cardiology?”

Woman: “Look, I found a parking spot closer to here and I’m in a hurry. Do I really have to go to a different building? Couldn’t this doctor look at me now?”

Orthopaedist: “Given that my office is not equipped for diagnosing heart issues, it would be useless. Please leave.”

Doctor Obvious Is Afoot
CURRENT EVENTS, DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, LAZY/UNHELPFUL, MEDICAL OFFICE, NON-DIALOGUE, USA, VANCOUVER, WASHINGTON | HEALTHY | AUGUST 14, 2020
I’ve had severe pain in both of my feet on and off for two years. I’ve been diagnosed with tendonitis, mild tendon tears, plantar fasciitis, Morton’s neuroma, and arthritis. I’ve tried everything that two doctors have suggested, plus a few things I learned about doing my own research. I’ve also had an MRI.

I’m getting pretty desperate for relief. This means that I’m willing to see a doctor despite the rapidly spreading illness going around, even though I’m at extremely high risk for it.

At my most recent appointment, the doctor proudly announced that I had metatarsalgia. This was a fancy way of saying that the bones in my feet hurt. No kidding, doc! He recommended highly cushioned shoes — which is all I’d been able to wear for two years — and that’s it.

I’ll be seeking out yet another doctor for this.

They Might Be Coming On To Something…
ARIZONA, CURRENT EVENTS, HEALTH & BODY, HOSPITAL, PHOENIX, RUDE & RISQUE, USA | HEALTHY | AUGUST 10, 2020
A bit of backstory for anyone reading old stories years from now: there’s a global health crisis going on, and a lot of people are acting like it’s either fake or no big deal. I’m waiting for an x-ray, and I overhear some medical workers talking.

Worker #1 : “Did you hear that [disease] causes a loss of ability to orgasm?”

Worker #2 : “No! Where did you hear that?”

Worker #1 : “My girlfriend and I made it up, but if we spread that around, maybe people would actually care.”

Check Yourself Before You Wreck Someone Else
ENGLAND, FRIENDS, GYM, HEALTH & BODY, INSTANT KARMA, JERK, NON-DIALOGUE, SPORTS, SPORTS CENTER, UK | HEALTHY | AUGUST 6, 2020
This took place about eight years ago. My younger brother and I join a group of guys for a game of indoor football — soccer — at our local sports centre every weekend. Everyone else is college age, seventeen or eighteen, while I am the eldest at twenty.

Things go by smoothly. One of the guys is a friend of ours, and there is a clear mix of ability so there is little in the way of unbalanced teams. Nonetheless, one of the guys is super competitive and continually body-checks others into the walls in order to tackle them. As the eldest in the group, I have de facto responsibility to ensure everyone’s health and safety, so I gently ask him at the end of the session to tone down his tackling, since he could seriously injure or be injured in doing so. As I feared, he simply brushes it off and says everything will be fine.

Cut to a few weeks later. My brother is unable to come with so it is just me this time. Everything goes fine until a harsh tackle from me on another guy causes me to roll my ankle, causing me to fall hard on my lower back. As play stops, the idiot I mentioned has the brilliant idea of grabbing me by the arms and ankles and carrying me away from the playing area!

While they carry on their game without a care in the world, I am lying there in agony. Between the now worsened ankle injury, they also jarred my lower back by unceremoniously dumping me on the floor. My friend stops playing and comes over to see if I’m okay. I immediately order him to get a member of staff, which he does. When the on-duty first aider — also the manager — arrives, the guys laugh and tell me to “stop acting like a p****,” to which my friend replies that this is serious.

An ambulance is called and my mother arrives after my friend used my phone to call her. About six hours later, I leave the local hospital on crutches with a severe high ankle sprain and strained lower lumbar muscles, and a metric crapload of various prescription painkillers. The following morning, my ankle has swelled to twice the size and looks the colour of a ripe blackberry. I take a photo for my university as proof — I commute to the uni and will be in no shape to get there for at least a week, maybe even two — and settle in to working out how to use my crutches effectively.

Six months later, I start training again to get my fitness back, and my brother and I go back to the football group. Naturally, they laugh that I took half a year off for “diving”…

…until I wordlessly walk up to the idiot in charge and show him the photo of my blackberry-coloured, inflated ankle. I stress my warning back to him from way before, and I swear I have never seen the colour fade so fast from someone seeing consequences of their actions.

Nowadays, my ankle is fully functional, if slightly more tender, while my lower back has developed into full-on sciatica. Still enjoy football, though!

Just Call Him Hal
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, HOSPITAL, LAZY/UNHELPFUL, NEW HIRES, USA | HEALTHY | AUGUST 2, 2020
I’m a nurse on a busy med surge floor. Shift change has just occurred. My CNA calls me to let me know one of my patients’ blood pressure readings is high. I pull up the chart, check the newest results, and realize their drug test is positive for absolutely everything drug we test for and they also have a very high alcohol score. I go into the room to access my patient and as soon as I get in, I know they are starting to go through withdrawals.

I call the doctor immediately to get a drug and alcohol withdrawal medication bundle on. I end up getting a brand-new resident. I introduce myself and explain the issue.

Me: “…and I need a stat order on the drug and alcohol withdrawal med bundle. Thanks!”

Resident: “I’m new; I don’t know what that is.”

Me: “No problem.”

I list the meds I need, the dosages, frequency, etc.

Resident: “I can’t write those orders; those are controlled medications.”

Some of them are, but most are anti-nausea and anti-diarrhea meds.

Me: “You’re a doctor; you can write controlled meds. This is a standard medication bundle for this issue.”

Resident: “I don’t think I can write those.”

Me: “Is [Doctor] there? Can you put him on speaker, please?”

He does and I repeat the request.

Doctor: *To the resident* “Start typing what the nurse tells you.”

Resident: “But I can’t write those orders; they are controlled.”

Doctor: “I’m only going to tell you this once more. Put in all the orders the nice nurse tells you right now. We have a patient who is about to go into severe drug withdrawals. She is trying to avoid the massive projectile vomiting, diarrhea, and seizures that are about to happen. Nurse [My Name], how long do you think we have?”

Me: “Thirty minutes, maybe less. They are already starting to sweat and look a bit green around the gills.”

The new resident was still arguing with the doctor that he couldn’t write those orders. The doc got fed up with him and told him that from then on he was to write every effing order I told him. I got my orders.

A few days later, the new resident was on the floor. I went up to get a med order and he started again with the “I don’t think I’m allowed to write that.” I smiled and let him know that I was nurse [My Name], and that he might remember that the doctor in charge of him told him not to argue with me about med orders. I did have to show him how to put them on, but it got done.

The other nurses asked how I managed to get orders out of him because he’d been pulling the same garbage with all of them. The doctor ended up giving him blanket orders that he was to listen to the nurses, and if he really wasn’t sure to call him or the pharmacist, but he was not allowed to utter “I don’t think I can write that” ever again.

We are wondering if he’ll last through the end of the month.

Whatever She Saw, They Had It Comin’
AWESOME, DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, MEDICAL OFFICE, NON-DIALOGUE, USA | HEALTHY | AUGUST 1, 2020
I’m usually pretty chatty with my doctors; I’ve learned that they have seen and heard much more shocking stories than mine since I live a pretty boring and standard life. Every time I get a new doctor, I’m sure to be honest and unashamed because they kind of need to know things like that.

I start rambling this point to a new doctor and point out how she’s probably dealt with more embarrassing things than someone being a virgin when asked about their sexual history.

She gives me a knowing look and then says, “I was an ER doctor in Chicago.”

Now I definitely know that there’s no scaring her!

We Need No Further Evidence Regarding Her Sanity
BIZARRE, JERK, NEW YORK, PHARMACY, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 31, 2020
I work in a pharmacy and I get a call from an older customer.

Me: “[Pharmacy], how can I help you?”

Customer: “You gave me the wrong pills!”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that, ma’am; did the bag have your name on it?”

Customer: “It’s my name, but the wrong pills are in the bottle!”

Me: “It’s possible we refilled one of your other prescriptions on fi—”

Customer: “No! The wrong pills are in the bottle!”

Me: “All right, can I have the number on the bottle?”

Customer: “Oh, no, you don’t! I’m not giving that to you.”

Me: “All right, can I have your name, please?”

Customer: “No! I’m on to your tricks!”

Me: “Ma’am, I need to look up your file so I can figure out what the problem is.”

Customer: “No, you don’t! I know your sly ways. You’re just going to change my file so you can cover up your mistake!”

Me: “Ma’am, I don’t have that ability. I’d like to help give you the proper medication. Can you please tell me your name?”

Customer: “No! You’re going to change the names of the medications on my chart to hide your screwup!”

Me: “Well, ma’am, can you come back to the store so I can verify the wrong pills were given?”

Customer: “No! I’m holding onto this bottle! It’s evidence!”

Me: “Ma’am, I can’t change any ‘evidence,’ since you have a printed label on the bottle. Can you tell me the name of the medication?”

Customer: “No! Do you think I’m stupid? I’m not telling you anything!”

Me: *Sigh* “Okay, ma’am, if you won’t let me see your file or the pills, and you won’t bring it back, then what would you like me to do?”

Customer: “I want you to know that you’re a horrible pharmacy. And you are a terrible person!”

Me: “Excuse me? I’m trying to help—”

Customer: “No, you are an awful person! You don’t deserve to be in business, trying to poison me with the wrong pills!”

Me: “Well, can you describe them to me? Are they white? Oval?”

Customer: “I’m not telling! You are a bad person!”

Me: “Ma’am, I would really like to help you, if you could give me some informati—”

Customer: “No, you don’t! Shame on you for trying to kill me and then hiding the evidence!”

She hung up.

A Pathological Need To Be Cautious
AUSTRALIA, CURRENT EVENTS, HEALTH & BODY, MEDICAL OFFICE, NEW SOUTH WALES | HEALTHY | JULY 30, 2020
I finally have an in-person appointment with a psychologist after having several phone appointments during the global health crisis. The secretary calls me the day before to do what is now the usual health check.

Secretary: “Hello, [My Name], is now a good time to ask you a few questions before your appointment tomorrow with [Psychologist]?”

Me: “Yes, absolutely.”

Secretary: “Oh, great. Have you had any coughs, fevers, sore throat, or body aches and pains?”

Me: “No, to the cough, fever, and sore throat, but the body aches and pains are common with my fibromyalgia.”

Secretary: “That should be fine. Have you been overseas or in Victoria in the last fourteen days?”

Me: “No.”

Secretary: “Okay, and have you been in contact with anyone who could have [spreading illness] recently?”

Me: “I work in a pathology lab.”

Secretary: “Oh. Um… I don’t know what to say to that.”

She laughs awkwardly.

Me: “I was tested a week ago and I was clear. But I also appreciate it if you don’t want me in the building; I can have a phone appointment again.”

Secretary: “Um, do you mind if I go and ask?”

Me: “Go for it. Just call me back. This isn’t the first time I have flustered people.”

Secretary: “Thank you for being so understanding! I will call you back soon.”

Me: “All good.”

They are going to let me in.

Need Something Stronger To Deal With This Doctor
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, JERK, MEDICAL OFFICE, SINGAPORE | HEALTHY | JULY 29, 2020
I suffer from chronic gastritis. Most doctors who do not realise the severity of my condition will prescribe a mild drug that is not strong enough. I often have to request something stronger.

At the clinic, I get a very condescending doctor who looks down her nose on the patients, as though she thinks she’s too good to waste her time on us. She doesn’t even look at me the entire time while I describe my symptoms but stares somewhere to my right, and she talks to me as though I am a five-year-old kid.

Doctor: “This is just a stomach ache. I’ll give you [Drug #1 ].”

Me: “I’ve taken that before; it’s too mild. Can I have [Drug #2 ], instead?”

Doctor: “You don’t need that. [Drug #1 ] is good enough.”

Me: “I have a history of chronic gastritis. I’ve taken [Drug #1 ] before; it’s not strong enough.”

Doctor: *Even more condescendingly* “Oh, what medicine do you want to take, then?”

Me: “I’ve taken [Drug #2 ]; it’s more effective.”

Doctor: “I’ve never heard of that medicine. Are you sure of the name?”

I figure I may be mispronouncing the name because, after all, I’m not a doctor. I try to describe it.

Me: “I’m not sure if I’m mispronouncing it. It’s by the same company as [Drug #1 ] but with three active ingredients instead of two. It comes in a green bottle.”

Doctor: *More condescendingly than ever* “Well, girl, I can give you something else, but I can’t guarantee it will come in a green bottle.”

Me: “Do you think I’m two years old? Wanting a medicine for the colour of the bottle like candy? I’m describing it to you in simple terms since you don’t seem to know which drug it is.”

The doctor looked stunned like she didn’t think I was smart enough to know the difference. She sputtered something and changed the prescription. I ignored her, checked the prescription to see that she did give me the stronger drug, and left without saying another word to her.

When Patients Have No Patience
EMERGENCY SERVICES, GERMANY, HOME, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, IMPOSSIBLE DEMANDS | HEALTHY | JULY 29, 2020
Sometimes, when we go to patient’s homes to get them to the hospital, we can’t bring them to the closest one because it’s full. This patient was set to go to the closest, but it was not possible.

Patient’s Wife: “So, you’ll bring him to [Hospital], right?”

Colleague: “Ma’am, [Hospital] is currently full.”

He opens the website that shows the availability of hospitals in the area.

Colleague: “See? It’s red. We could bring your husband to[List Of Different Hospitals in the area].”

Patient’s Wife: “But he has always been treated at [Hospital]! They know him there!”

Colleague: “They might know him, but that doesn’t mean they can magically fit him in the already full hospital.”

Patient’s Wife: “This is outrageous! My husband’s sick and you refuse to get him to the hospital!”

Me: “No, ma’am. We simply can’t get him to [Hospital]. But we’re offering you hospitals in the area that’ll surely treat him just as well. Just give us the physician letters from the hospital and the other hospital will surely know how to proceed and properly treat him.”

Patient’s Wife: “I demand you call the hospital and ask if you can bring him!”

My colleague and I look at each other and sigh. He starts calling the hospital. He explains the situation to the woman sitting at the ER desk. He then puts her on speaker.

Woman At The ER Desk: “Ma’am, we are pretty busy here. The paramedics could bring him here, but he would have to wait a very long time until he’s being treated.”

Patient’s Wife: “I don’t care! He has to be at [Hospital]!”

My colleague and I shrugged and decided to just drive the patient to the hospital. We dropped him off, apologizing quietly to the ER staff for giving them more work. A few hours later, as we passed by the ER to pick a patient up to drive them home again, we saw the woman loudly complaining to the ER desk and asking why it was taking so long for her husband to be treated. My colleague and I just looked at each other, shook our heads, and moved on with our days.

Probably Should Have Asked Beforehand
PATIENTS, PENNSYLVANIA, PHARMACY, STUPID, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 28, 2020
My mom works as a night pharmacist in a retail chain.

Patient: “Hi, I had surgery the other day, and I just wanted to know what I had removed.”

Mom: “You would have to call your surgeon’s office. I can’t look that up.”

Patient: “But he’s so hard to get a hold of, and everyone always says if you have a question to ask your pharmacist!”

Mom: “That’s not really how it works.”

Everyone always says she should have just said “lobotomy.”

She Blinded Me With Science! Kind Of.
COLLEGE & UNIVERSITY, HEALTH & BODY, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, NON-DIALOGUE, STUDENTS, TEACHERS, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 27, 2020
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

I am an exercise science major. For one of my classes, we have to perform a treadmill test on one student and use the data collected for a lab write-up.

The day of the lab, my class prior to this is also in the exercise science laboratory, so I am sitting in a chair inside when my professor walks in. She asks me to come and help her set up the lab because I did the same lab with the same professor last semester for a different class.

I go in and start to put together the headpiece that will monitor the subject’s breathing. The rest of the small class walks in — only five people — and they stand around talking amongst themselves until the professor asks them who is going to be the subject. They decide to use “nose goes” to determine who the subject will be.

I do not participate because I have gloves on to keep the headpiece sanitary — it goes inside of the subject’s mouth — and I kind of assume I am exempt from this because I am basically setting up the whole lab by myself. The only things that have to be done after this are connecting the headpiece to a tube and writing down the data that a computer collects for us.

The other students don’t care about this and tell me that I have to be the subject because I lost “nose goes.” I agree because I’m not a confrontational person due to my severe anxiety. So, the professor and one other student help me put on the headpiece. As they are putting it on, the professor tells me she is taking off my glasses to get it on, but she’ll put them back on before the test starts. The professor then gets distracted because my heart rate monitor is not working and forgets about my glasses.

This is a very big problem because I am almost legally blind with my glasses, and I try to tell her this, but I can’t speak due to the headpiece. So, they start the treadmill and I quickly realize how bad this is. The treadmill is all black, so I am unable to tell the difference between the belt and the plastic siding. During the first minute of the test, I step too far forward, partway onto the front plastic, and almost trip.

This sends me into panic mode, because I know I am going to fall, hurt myself, and completely embarrass myself by the end of this fifteen-minute test. I try to hold onto the sides of the treadmill for security, but the professor hits my hands away and tells me I can’t do this. So, I start to flap my hands, one of my stims that I use to calm myself when I get incredibly anxious.

At the three-minute mark, another student holds a paper in front of my face to determine my rating of perceived exertion, or how hard I feel the test is at this point. I try to tell them I can’t see the words on the paper, but they take me gesturing towards the paper as pointing at a specific rating and then tell me not to talk so I don’t mess up the data.

I get seven minutes into the test. My vision is going black and my heart is beating so fast I feel like I’m about to have a heart attack. I later find out that I was way above my maximum healthy heart rate and the test should have been stopped, but the students were not paying any attention to my heart rate so it went unnoticed.

I finally decide that I can no longer go on with the test and give them the indication that I need to stop. My professor asks me to go “one more minute” but then notices my heart rate and tells the other students that I need to get off the treadmill immediately. The test is stopped, the headpiece is removed, and I am able to sit in a chair. I’m shaking and hyperventilating, still feel like I’m about to have a heart attack, and am incredibly embarrassed that I was unable to complete the test and that I’m having a full-blown panic attack in front of my class.

The professor looks over the data and sees the ratings of perceived exertion that were collected when I was wildly gesturing towards the paper. She asks me, “Why did you rate these so low; wasn’t the test hard for you? You were having a hard time.”

I manage to basically hiss out between my gasps for breath, “I couldn’t see. You didn’t give me my glasses back. I’m almost blind.”

The professor shuts up and the other students get me to re-rate the test. After this, I am able to go home, thinking that this will be the end of it.

However, the professor proceeds to mention how I was unable to complete the test every week, assuming it was because I was out of shape, not because I was having a panic attack. This is so embarrassing that I end up having minor panic attacks before I go to this class every day, fearing that she is going to mention it again.

I wish there was some sort of incredible ending to this story where I stood up for myself and yelled at the professor, but due to a certain illness outbreak, I ended up having to complete the class online and did not have to deal with that professor for the rest of the semester.

People Are Waiting Longer And Longer To Have Kids
HOSPITAL, NURSES, PHARMACY, STUPID, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 23, 2020
My dad is a clinical pharmacist before retirement. One hospital he works in for about thirty years has some nurses that are clearly in need of some extra training. The pharmacists can see the entire profile for the patient, including medications currently prescribed, what they are in the hospital for at the moment, etc.

Dad receives a prescription marked “urgent” that does not correlate with the patient’s diagnosis, and he immediately calls the nurse.

Dad: “Hi, this is [Dad] from the pharmacy. I am unable to fill the script you just sent me. Please double-check and resend it.”

Nurse: “Um, no. I sent it to you; you fill it. Do your d*** job!”

Dad: “Not happening. Have the doctor call me immediately if you won’t comply.”

Nurse: “What the f***?! How dare you insinuate I can’t do my job?!”

Dad: “Because you just requested a drug to induce labor for an eighty-five-year-old patient here for a heart attack. I’m not going to kill her.”

My dad hung up and dialed the doctor directly to get it handled.

Luckily, it was something my dad could start on while waiting on the doctor to send the CORRECT prescription and had already done so based on the semi-close names of the drugs, and the lady was okay. Unluckily, the nurse reported my dad for “unprofessional ism” and he had a long investigation started. The nurse didn’t last long.

Caution Is Important, But Um…
CURRENT EVENTS, HEALTH & BODY, MEDICAL OFFICE, PATIENTS, STUPID, TEXAS, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 21, 2020
Me: “This is [Heart Clinic]; how can I help you?”

Patient: “I have an appointment tomorrow, and I really need to come, but I found out my aunt had [rapidly spreading illness].”

Me: “I’m so sorry to hear that! Did you have contact with your aunt?”

Patient: “No, I haven’t seen her in months.”

Me: “You had contact with someone who has seen her recently, then?”

Patient: “I haven’t had contact with anyone lately. I get my groceries delivered, even.”

Me: “Okay. So, you have to go see her, then?”

Patient: “What? No! She’s in the hospital. I can’t go see her.”

Me: “Are you having any of these symptoms?”

I read off a list of symptoms.

Patient: “As far as I know, I’m healthy as can be, except for the heart issues.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I’m confused. If you need the appointment, then why are you cancelling?”

Patient: “Because my aunt has [illness].”

Parenthood Doesn’t Come With Clairvoyance
IMPOSSIBLE DEMANDS, INSURANCE, NON-DIALOGUE, PENNSYLVANIA, PITTSBURGH, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 19, 2020
My son was born with a very slight heart murmur. The pediatrician said he needed to see a cardiologist so they called one in right away. He was only an hour old.

One month later, I got a letter saying the insurance wouldn’t pay because it needed a pre-authorization twenty-four hours before the visit. I called the insurance company and said that twenty-four hours before the visit, my son was negative twenty-three hours old. They paid the claim.

He’s eighteen now, and he’s fine.

Do They Teach Entitlement In Medical School?
CALIFORNIA, DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, HOSPITAL, IMPOSSIBLE DEMANDS, JERK, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 18, 2020
I work in central supply at a hospital. Besides individual items, we carry prepackaged kits.

One evening, I’m returning to the department after making my deliveries. I find a man in scrubs trying to force the door open.

Me: “Can I help you?”

Doctor: “Why is this door locked?!”

Me: “Because it’s after hours and I’m the only one here.”

I unlock the door and he follows me inside.

Doctor: “I need [Specific Brand Kit we don’t carry].”

Me: “We don’t carry [Specific Brand]; we only have [Our Brand].”

Doctor: “I don’t like [Our Brand]! I ordered [Specific Brand]! You’re supposed to have it!”

Me: “I’m sorry. We haven’t received any new products in a while.”

Doctor: “How do you know?”

Me: “Any time we get something new, my manager puts one on the dry erase board. She writes the item number and the location where it’s kept here in the department.”

He’s still not convinced, so I show him the shelves where the kits are stored. Of course, he doesn’t find the one he wants.

Doctor: “Fine. I’ll have to take one of these. I’ll need a couple of other things, too.”

He grabs a few more things and starts to leave when I stop him.

Me: “I need to know where that stuff is going.”

Doctor: *Rolling his eyes* “It’s going with me.”

Me: “You’re taking it home?”

Doctor: “No! I’m going to use it on a patient.”

Me: “Then I need the location of the patient. I have to log it in the book so the correct floor is charged.”

Doctor: “Oh. It’s going to [floor].”

I got everything logged in the book and he finally left.

We never did carry that other brand of kit.

Too Bad Money Doesn’t Spread Like Disease
CURRENT EVENTS, EMPLOYEES, HEALTH & BODY, HOSPITAL, NON-DIALOGUE, NURSES, THE NETHERLANDS | HEALTHY | JULY 12, 2020
I have to visit my local hospital. At this moment, the health crisis is still ongoing, but it is not really spreading fast or causing many deaths in my country anymore.

When you enter the hospital, there are people there who ask you what your business is and if you have any symptoms related to the illness. The way this hospital is set up is that you have a big open space right after the doors. During this time, they have taped off a section for people entering so they catch everybody going in and are able to ask them questions.

The way they set this up is that they have a couple of tables surrounded by plexiglass screens about two meters in height and U-shaped. The area for employees is further restricted by tables which sort of create corridors for people to go through. These tables are not protected by the plexiglass. The employees are standing behind those tables, calling us through. Luckily, it is not very busy and I get through easily.

When you exit, you get close to that area again. I linger a bit when I exit because I have to get some stuff in and out of my bag. As I do, I overhear a conversation.

One man asks why the hospital staff has plexiglass screens but doesn’t stand behind them, instead choosing to stand behind the unprotected tables. I take a look at the setup again and I realise that the way these areas are set up, they clearly meant for patients and visitors to go up to the front of the screens, answer the questions required, and then pass through the little artificial corridors to enter the hospital. This way, the employee would be protected at all times and never get close enough to the visitor/patient without a barrier in between them.

However, as it turns out, in order for plexiglass to stand on its own, it has to be quite thick. And what happens if you’re standing behind thick plexiglass? Well… predictably, they will have trouble hearing each other. Apparently, after trying it out, the employees realised that communication was impossible through these screens and that is why they abandoned them. I guess they still managed to stay far enough away from the patients and visitors, at least as far away as required by our laws — 1.5 meters — but it amazed me that the hospital didn’t think of the communication problem.

And for everyone asking if they couldn’t have used microphones and speakers to communicate, here’s a couple of reasons why they didn’t. This setup is in the middle of a big open space. There are no plugs anywhere near. And it is too dangerous to put a wire over that floor. On top of that, the more important reason I guess is that hospitals already don’t get much funding and, as such, are notorious cheapskates.

That Instant Karma Can Be Hard To Swallow
AUSTRALIA, CURRENT EVENTS, HEALTH & BODY, INSTANT KARMA, MEDICAL OFFICE, NON-DIALOGUE, NURSES, PRANKS | HEALTHY | JULY 11, 2020
I’m a nurse working in a drive-thru screening clinic for a widespread illness.

Getting swabbed for this illness involves a throat and nasal swab and it is not a pleasant experience at all. I try my absolute best to be friendly, courteous, gentle, and comforting to make the best of a bad situation for our patients.

And most patients are lovely.

But some are not.

I have one guy drive up with two peers in the car, and he is clearly trying to impress them with bravado.

After ranting at me that “all this s***” is just a scam and how I must like hurting people if I do this job, giving me fake, rude names, etc., we finally get around to taking his throat swab.

I have the swab in his mouth when he lets out a sudden, loud shriek, obviously with the intention of frightening me and making me jump as a “hilarious” joke.

However, due to the fact that I have the swab in his mouth, when I do jump slightly, I end up jabbing his throat with the swab.

“Mate, maybe don’t do that when I have a stick deep down in your throat, okay?” I suggest.

With his eyes downcast, looking humbled and like someone who just got poked sharply in the back of the throat, he says in a small voice, “I’m sorry.”

Ears Are Becoming Vestigial Organs These Days
CANADA, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, MEDICAL OFFICE | HEALTHY | JULY 6, 2020
I work at a clinic where we frequently send people for surgery. Sometimes we send people to the hospital for emergency surgery right from the clinic, but most often, we have their surgery scheduled anywhere between a week from when we saw them up to a few months in the future.

In these cases, we give the patient a quick explanation of the paperwork they need to fill out, as well as how the process works. When we are able to tell patients what day their surgery will be, we explain that we get the time for their surgery right from the hospital but we won’t get that information until the day before their surgery day.

One day, I am answering phones at work when I get the following call.

Caller: “Hi, I was just at the clinic and they said my dad is going to have surgery on [date], but they didn’t give us the time!” *Laughs*

Me: “We always call patients the day before their surgery in the afternoon to inform them of their surgery time.”

Caller: “Oh, that’s what the girl at the desk said.”

Me: “…”

I get that people are a little nervous and preoccupied when they are told they will need to have surgery. However, we get calls like this every single day! Some people just don’t listen, I guess.

Giving Your Children A Time-Release Heart Attack
HEALTH & BODY, HOME, NON-DIALOGUE, PARENTS/GUARDIANS, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 5, 2020
My father contacts me to let me know he is in the hospital. Something is going on with his heart; they are not sure what yet. After a lot of testing, and a lot of panic on my end, he is released with some new medication. He says they are not exactly sure what happened; he didn’t have a heart attack, though.

Fast forward several months, and the topic comes up. I ask him if they have figured out what happened that day.

“No,” he says. “Just that it was some kind of myocardial infarction.”

Cue my bio-nerdy stare of disbelief. That was the day I got to tell my engineer father that “myocardial infarction” is the technical term for a freaking heart attack!

Giving Your Children A Time-Release Heart Attack
HEALTH & BODY, HOME, NON-DIALOGUE, PARENTS/GUARDIANS, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 5, 2020
My father contacts me to let me know he is in the hospital. Something is going on with his heart; they are not sure what yet. After a lot of testing, and a lot of panic on my end, he is released with some new medication. He says they are not exactly sure what happened; he didn’t have a heart attack, though.

Fast forward several months, and the topic comes up. I ask him if they have figured out what happened that day.

“No,” he says. “Just that it was some kind of myocardial infarction.”

Cue my bio-nerdy stare of disbelief. That was the day I got to tell my engineer father that “myocardial infarction” is the technical term for a freaking heart attack!

A Most Receptive Receptionist
AWESOME, HEALTH & BODY, MEDICAL OFFICE, NON-DIALOGUE, PATIENTS, RECEPTION, SWEDEN | HEALTHY | JULY 4, 2020
I suffer from recurring bouts of erysipelas and have had it twelve times for the past nine years. Each time, I amass a lot of fluids in my body and gain twenty to twenty-five kilograms in a couple of days, which is great fun. I then work hard to shed the unwanted weight and drop back to the original weight, only to get erysipelas again. It’s rather draining mentally.

The first time I got sick, I didn’t understand what was happening. My legs were so filled with fluid that they stopped working, and it took me four hours to drag myself from the living room out to the phone in the hallway to call for an ambulance. I ended up spending four months isolated in the hospital, and I lost all skin on my right leg, from the hip and all the way down to under my feet and around my toes. Instead, green gunk gushed out from the open wound.

It took me six months before I could walk again and I became a “frequent flyer” at my local health clinic during this time, when I also battled cancer.

About eighteen months ago, it was my best friend’s birthday and I was looking forward to visiting her. When I woke up that morning, I felt unwell, but since I had called out sick the two previous times we were supposed to meet, I didn’t want to disappoint her again. She picked me up, we went to her home, and she gushed over her gifts as I started shaking more and more violently. I fell off my chair as I couldn’t stop shuddering. My friend got this huge blanket and wrapped me in it, but I couldn’t speak as I was shaking too much. She dragged me out to her car and drove me home, where I called the health clinic.

I knew from the shaking and the state of my leg that I had erysipelas again.

I was informed by an automated message that they had filled their daily quota for walk-ins, but I was welcome to try again the next day. I knew it was erysipelas but it also felt different as it was progressing much faster than normal.

I called the national health helpline and talked to a rather snotty lady. She told me to call an ambulance right away.

I refused, as I had had erysipelas eleven times before. I knew that I just needed antibiotics and I would get better in a few days — no need for an ambulance or clogging up the emergency room with something unimportant.

So, barely conscious and shaking violently, I went out into the kitchen and made schnitzels. After all, it was what I had planned to cook that day. They were delicious, but… it was not the most logical action. I was rather delirious, though, which might excuse my lack of logical thinking.

I then called the health clinic again and spoke to the receptionist. I knew I would only need a five-minute appointment to come in, show my glaringly red leg, and get a prescription for antibiotics. Could they possibly squeeze me in?

“Yes, if you can get here at 12:45, we can fit you in.”

“Great! I’ll take the bus in ten minutes, at 12:20. See you!”

By now, my legs were swollen, filled with fluid, and horribly infected, and it was difficult to lift my feet. I used my distance walking sticks as crutches to stumble to the bus stop.

It’s only a three-minute bus ride to the health clinic.

When I entered the health clinic, the reception was deserted. A woman was seated in the waiting area but not waiting for the receptionist; I don’t know if she was the companion of another patient or waiting for her ride home. I sat down by the receptionist with my identification ready and more or less lost consciousness. I was shaking so badly. After a while, the receptionist returned. I was too ill to notice, but the other woman went up for me.

“You have to see her immediately!” the woman told the receptionist. “She’s really sick.”

She handed over my ID and my wallet to the receptionist, who ran me through the computer, and together they managed to shake some life into me and I managed to hop on my own to the waiting room.

My leg hurt so badly that I couldn’t sit properly, and I had to place it on the table. It was pretty disgusting, but the leg hurt so bad.

The nurse came over and said, “Hi, [My Name]! Oh, my! Wait here!”

She rushed over to the doctor’s office; I could hear her urge him to come out right away.

“Hi, [My Name],” the doctor said. “Wow, you have erysipelas. When did it start?”

“Two hours ago,” I said.

“Two hours? No, that can’t be. Can I check your arm?”

Yeah, of course, he could. I wasn’t going to use it myself, so check away.

“Wait here! There’s no need for any exam or testing.” Off he went for a couple of minutes before he returned, chatting on a cell phone. “It’s urgent! You have to rush!” he begged on the phone. Then, he turned back to me. “Okay, [My Name]. You have erysipelas, which you already know, because you know this disease better than any of us doctors here. But… you’re going into sepsis. In two hours, the sepsis has spread from your calves to your elbows. It’s really, really bad. I’ve called an ambulance.”

The ambulance arrived in less than ten minutes. I was quickly treated at the hospital and made a full recovery.

If the receptionist hadn’t squeezed me in, I would have gone to bed, instead. Considering how fast the sepsis was spreading, the outcome would not have been good. I am eternally grateful for the wonderful treatment I got that day.

A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 3
CURRENT EVENTS, LAZY/UNHELPFUL, MEDICAL OFFICE, RECEPTION, USA | HEALTHY | JUNE 22, 2020
I have a compromised immune system, so I’ve been working from home and haven’t been going out much. My doctor has set up telehealth visits where we can video chat instead of going to the office.

A few days before my visit, I get a call from the office.

Me: “Hello?”

Receptionist #1 : “Hi, this is [Receptionist #1 ] from [Doctor]’s office. Am I speaking with [My Name]?”

Me: “Yes, this is her.”

Receptionist #1 : “Okay! I need to go over some basic information before your appointment. It’s just the check-in stuff we would normally do in person. Do you have about fifteen minutes for that?”

I glance at my schedule and see that I don’t have anything pressing coming up.

Me: “Sure.”

We go over my basic info — name, date of birth, weight, medications, etc. — and she verifies that I know how to log in to see the doctor. We hang up and I go back to work.

The next day, I get another call from their office. Unfortunately, I’m already in a call with a client, so I can’t answer. After I’m done, I listen to the voicemail.

Receptionist #2 : “Hi, this is [Receptionist #2 ] from [Doctor]’s office calling for [My Name]. I just need to go over some basic information with you before your appointment. Please call us back at [phone number] prior to your visit. Thank you.”

Thinking this is about something new, I call back.

Receptionist #2 : “[Doctor]’s office.”

Me: “Hi, this is [My Name]. I just received a call about some information before my visit?”

Receptionist #2 : “Okay. Let me pull up your file here… Okay, we just need to do your basic check-in before your visit. Do you have about fifteen minutes?”

Me: *Confused* “I did that yesterday. Is there something new?”

Receptionist #2 : “Hmm, I don’t see anything here. Are you sure it was with us?”

Me: “Yeah, same number, same appointment.”

Receptionist #2 : “Well, I’m not sure what happened but nothing is charted here. Can we go over it to make sure?”

Me: “I have a few minutes, yeah.”

We go through everything again, and after the receptionist assures me it’s all been documented, we hang up. The following day I get ANOTHER call from the same office. I’m still working, so I let it go to voicemail again. It’s a third receptionist, wanting to verify all of my information yet again. I call back, annoyed.

Receptionist #3 : “[Doctor]’s office.”

Me: “Hi, this is [My Name]. I received another call about my upcoming appointment.”

Receptionist #3 : “I see. Well, it looks like we’ve been trying to reach you, I see. I can go over your info now if—”

Me: “Look, I’m sorry. I’m sure this isn’t your fault, but I’ve done this twice already. Is it not being logged or something?”

Receptionist #3 : “I don’t see anything about us talking with you. Do you know who it was?”

Me: “Well, I have [Receptionists #2 & #3 ] in voicemails but I can’t remember the first one’s name.”

Receptionist #3 : “Mmhmm, I called today. I see that [Receptionists #1 & #2 ] also reached out. Are you sure you spoke with us, not another office?”

Me: “Yes. I’m sure. How is this not being recorded? Can you ask the other receptionists?”

Receptionist #3 : “I’m not sure what’s going on, but I can go over your information with you now.”

Me: *Sigh* “Fine.”

For a third time, I went through everything. I guess it finally stuck because that was the last call before the doctor’s visit. When I asked her if other people had the same problem, she said she didn’t know anything about it. Suddenly, I miss those in-person visits.

A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 2
EMPLOYEES, ENGLAND, JERK, MEDICAL OFFICE, RECEPTION, UK | WORKING | JULY 7, 2020
I’ve recently legally changed my name but haven’t quite updated it everywhere as some places require me to physically visit them, and it’s hard to keep track of everywhere.

I’m a university student home for the summer and am made a temporary patient at the local doctors. After my appointment, I notice my name is wrong and go to ask at reception about changing it. There are two receptionists.

Me: “Hey, so, uh, my name legally changed, and I’m wondering if I need to give you guys anything to update it? I have my deed poll here.”

Receptionist #1 : “Let me see. How did you change it?”

Me: “By deed poll; I have it here.” *Holds out the paper*

Receptionist #1 : *Takes the deed poll* “Is this our copy?”

Me: “No, that’s my legal copy. Do you need it?”

[Receptionist #1 ] goes to a cupboard; I assume that’s where a photocopier is or something.

Receptionist #2 : “Wait, you’re a temporary patient. right? You need to update it with your GP up in [University City], not us.”

Me: “Oh, okay, thanks.”

I don’t move as the first receptionist is still holding my deed poll.

Receptionist #1 : “You really need to update your name. Legally, you have to.”

I hold out my hand for the deed poll.

Me: “I know. I just can’t afford to go up to [City] for one day.”

Receptionist #1 : *With a sort of “gotcha” tone* “Then how are you getting back for university? You need to change it; it can cause problems if you don’t.”

Me: “I know.”

Receptionist #2 : *Cutting in* “Their parents are probably helping them move back in; they just can’t go up a random day in summer. Hon, I’ve got it all set on the system. You’re fine. Have a good day.”

[Receptionist #1 ] said nothing and handed me my deed poll.

I thanked the second receptionist and left. I know updating my name is important, but it’s also expensive enough without having to travel just to hand over a piece of paper.

Related:
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist

A Most Unreceptive Receptionist
JERK, MEDICAL OFFICE, RECEPTION, USA | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 17, 2020
(I have a potential diagnosis of a rare and extremely painful neurological disorder. I have to schedule with a neurologist, who lives a four-hour drive from where I live. By this point, I’ve been in severe pain for several months, and my patience for rudeness is admittedly running a bit thin.)

Me: “Hi, I’m calling to see if I need an MRI before I come down.”

Receptionist: “The doctor will inform you if you need that at the appointment.”

Me: “Yes, I understand that, but it’s a four-hour drive to see this doctor and I have to stay overnight and I’d rather not have to do it more than once.”

Receptionist: *much more snippy than is necessary* “Well, that’s not my problem, is it?”

Me: “Pardon me, but I’ve been in fairly serious pain for a while and that’s why I’m calling your office — to make sure that the appointment to get rid of my pain runs smoothly.”

Receptionist: “There’s no reason to take that tone.”

Me: “Are you f****** kidding me?!”

Receptionist: “Young lady, if you insist on using that language with me, I will disconnect the call and inform [Doctor] of your attitude, and we’ll see if you see another neurologist in this hospital.”

(I disconnected the call, had a panic attack, and then cried with my mom for an hour. No one is making a first appointment with a specialist for happy fun times. If you don’t understand that someone is probably calling because they’re in pain or sick, maybe you shouldn’t work in healthcare.)

Becoming The Butt Of An Insult-To-Injury Situation
FRIENDS, MILITARY, NON-DIALOGUE, PATIENTS, PRANKS, VIETNAM | HEALTHY | JUNE 27, 2020
My dad served in Vietnam between 1969 and 1972. During this time, he saw many of his fellow soldiers injured.

One drew the lucky straw in a firefight and wasn’t fatally injured. The bullet went in one side and out the other side — of his buttocks.

While he was laid up in the hospital, my dad and a few friends visited him.

They all very solemnly entered the guy’s hospital room and very seriously informed him that the doctors had told them that the patient’s bottom was going to have to be amputated due to the injury.

But they were going to get him a nice wooden replacement from the resident local crafters, all shiny and polished, with a belt to hold it on. And they might even be able to afford a pink plastic one for Sundays!

About that time, the patient cottoned on that this was a prank.

Dad and his friends managed to duck out before the bedpan hit them.

Hopefully, Those Weeks Just Flu By
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, MEDICAL OFFICE, PATIENTS, USA | HEALTHY | JUNE 26, 2020
My sister and I vacation together in Florida, and we come back sick as dogs. We’re both sneezing and coughing uncontrollably plus feverish chills, but mine’s worse. I get so bad that I lose control of my body so I soil myself, clumps of my hair fall out, and I have hallucinations of shadowy figures. I’m naturally fat but I can’t eat, so my stomach caves in. I drool uncontrollably the time, and I get an earache so bad that I can’t hear anything. Plus, my eyes puff up so much that I can’t see either. Ever been deaf and blind? It’s NOT fun.

I figure I got a bad flu, but it’s never been like this, so I figure I have the flu AND maybe something else. Finally, weeks later, I go the see a doctor, I’ve no insurance but I’m desperate for relief. Over-the-counter medicine does nothing.

I tell the doctor everything, and he runs tests. Flu: negative. Strep throat: negative. Pneumonia: negative.

Doctor: “It must be bronchitis. A mild case of it.”

Me: “A mild case? If this is mild, I don’t want to ever experience a severe case!”

He gave me a prescription for my cough. My sister went, too, and she got a flu diagnosis. She still blames me for giving it to her, even though I told her I didn’t! I lost twenty-five pounds at least.

No Particular Emphasis On “Assisted” Living
ASSISTED LIVING, CALIFORNIA, DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, LAZY/UNHELPFUL, NON-DIALOGUE, NURSES, STUPID, USA | HEALTHY | JUNE 24, 2020
A few years ago, I — a sixty-four-year-old male — had a bad bicycle accident. The damages included a concussion, broken right collarbone, broken right elbow, four broken ribs on my right side, and three fractures in my left pelvis; if you can explain the physics of that, I’m all ears.

Four days in the hospital got me stabilized, but then I needed rehab and was sent to a nursing home. That’s when the fun began.

I was transported to the home at about 6:00 pm. After intake, I struggled for a few hours to find a comfortable position and finally got to sleep, only to be awakened at 11:30 pm (!) to have them take pictures of my bare backside to see if I had bedsores already. Two days later, I was awakened at 4:45 am (!!) because the traveling technician was going to take my blood and wanted to get done early.

I was getting both physical and occupational therapy from the same outsourced company. The routine was to do the PT first at one end of the building and then get wheeled back to my room for the OT. The third day, the occupational therapist was taking me back to my room and one of the physical therapists came with us. The two men were discussing a barbeque they were going to have that weekend.

No problem, except that when we got to my room they stopped in the hallway and talked over me for five minutes. I called out the OT when we were alone; to his credit, he apologized and said that I wasn’t their typical patient, meaning I had no dementia.

I was on a schedule where I was given two assisted showers a week. This wouldn’t have been too bad, except that the home had no air conditioning and we had a heatwave in the nineties the second week. I was waiting for the aide to take me when I noticed five young women hanging around the door to my room. When I asked, they told me they were going to watch my shower as part of their training. I informed them that no, they weren’t, so they waited outside the shower area with my wheelchair.

By that point, I could walk slowly with a cane, so after getting dressed, I limped to my chair with help from the aide. One of the women was standing behind the chair with her hands on the grips. I let go of the cane, grabbed a handrail on the chair, and almost fell on my face as the chair moved out from under me! She hadn’t set the brakes on the wheels and hadn’t held on to the chair. I was lucky there was no damage but it hurt like crazy.

In addition to the therapy for my hip, I needed to wait until the swelling in my broken elbow went down before surgery. When it was ready for the procedure, I went to the hospital having had no food or drink for over twelve hours. I was lying on the gurney about to go into the prep room when I was approached by a young doctor I’d never met. She wanted me to give her permission to perform a “nerve block” on me after the operation. In her telling, this would keep me from feeling pain afterward.

This had not been discussed before, I had no knowledge of what a nerve block entailed, it sounded dangerous, and this person was a total stranger. She was persistent, I’ll give her that, but she finally took the hint when I told her to get the h*** away from me.

The surgery went fine and I had no real discomfort afterward, even to the point where I never filled the prescription for the opioid painkiller I was given. So much for the nerve block. I was not, however, forewarned about another side effect of the anesthesia. It is common that urination is inhibited after the procedure, and by 6:00 pm, I was in real pain.

The nurses’ aides didn’t have the authority to give me a catheter and had to get permission. An hour later, I got my first experience with the process. Then, they took it out. And a few hours later, the pressure built up again.

This time, they didn’t want to put the tube back in; their training said they had to wait four hours. My wife had to yell that she’d take me to the emergency room and file charges against them before they fixed the problem. This time they left it in, and by the following evening, the plumbing worked.

As to the home itself, my stay confirmed my fear of the places, even without a contagion situation. Most of the other long-term residents had some degree of dementia and there was lots of moaning and shouting at all hours. And the food was just as bland as the stereotype; luckily, my wife brought me meals a couple of times a day — including the occasional illicit cold beer.

I got out three days after the elbow surgery and was able to navigate my house, including the stairs, immediately. In another week, I rarely used the cane and have a story for my grandkids.

Don’t Bypass The Signs
BELGIUM, COWORKERS, HEALTH & BODY, OFFICE, STUPID | HEALTHY | JUNE 21, 2020
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

I’m sitting across from [Coworker #1 ] and [Coworker #2 ] comes up to him.

Coworker #2 : “I need you to drive [Coworker #3 ] home; he is not feeling well. He has chest paint, is short of breath, his left arm hurts…”

Basically, insert all symptoms of a heart attack here.

Me: *A bit incredulously* “I’m no doctor, but that sounds as if he needs to go to the ER instead of home.”

Coworker #1 : *Looks at me assessingly* “I think [My Name] is right. He needs a doctor.”

Coworker #2 : “No, no, he wants to go home.”

[Coworker #1 ] went to check on [Coworker #3 ] and I saw them leaving. An hour later, [Coworker #3 ] was on the operating table, having a triple bypass.

Some Doctors Have Their Heads Up Their… Well, You Know
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, LAZY/UNHELPFUL, MEDICAL OFFICE, USA | HEALTHY | JUNE 20, 2020
TMI warning! I have severe rectal bleeding. As a woman, it’s extremely hard to get care for it.

Several Doctors: “Are you sure the blood isn’t from your period?”

Doctor #1 : “One drop of blood can make the whole bowel look red.”

Doctor #2 : “The surgery is painful, and you’re so young! Why put you through unnecessary risk?”

Doctor #3 : “Most women are anemic. I wouldn’t worry about it. Just gain a little weight.”

Doctor #4 : “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you say.”

Female Doctor #1 : “That sounds awful! I just need to check a simple thing, and then I can recommend you for surgery.”

A Vampire Has Better Bedside Manner
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, FLORIDA, JERK, MEDICAL OFFICE, NURSES, USA | HEALTHY | JUNE 19, 2020
As part of my work’s health insurance, all employees need to get basic blood work done each year. It’s a minor inconvenience, and it’s fully paid for by the company. However, I have a bad needle phobia. The year before last, my best friend came with me so I could hold his hand. Last year, I decided to go alone, since I was going to the same phlebotomist and she was very nice, but I ended up having a low-key panic attack and tremors for the rest of the day regardless.

This year, I go to a new clinic and need a bit more blood drawn for my personal doctor, so my best friend thankfully agrees to let me crush his hand again. We’re seen to quickly enough and go into the room to wait. Then, the phlebotomist enters and the trouble starts.

My friend is sitting on my right side and has his phone and earbuds out so he can distract me with silly videos. The phlebotomist — who entered from the door on my left, mind — crosses over to my right side and looks down at him.

Phlebotomist: “You need to move.”

Me: “Sorry, I’m actually more comfortable having my blood drawn from my left arm. I have a severe needle phobia and tend to tense up.”

She just huffs and moves to my left. She ties the rubber cuff around my arm VERY TIGHTLY and I feel my fingers start to tingle and throb in a matter of seconds, so I reach over to loosen it just a little bit.

Phlebotomist: “Don’t touch that!”

Me: “It was too tight! My hand was going numb!”

She huffs again and then comes up to my side and grabs my arm. I immediately jerk forward and tense up, and the phlebotomist pushes me back against the chair.

Phlebotomist: “You need to stay still or I’m going to hurt you.”

I was so keyed up I could only whimper, so I squeezed my friend’s hand for all it was worth after he passed me the earbuds and started playing a video that I think had cats being cute or something.

The phlebotomist stuck me and I whimpered some more while my leg bounced with nervous energy. I heard her tutting over the noise of the video, like I was some rambunctious child, and the draw felt like it took forever. Eventually, all the vials were filled and the phlebotomist dismissed us with the scowl she’d had on the entire time.

My friend had to lead me out of the clinic, as I was dizzy from stress by that point, and it took a good few minutes for him to bring me down enough to be safe to drive home.

People like that phlebotomist are part of the reason I developed this phobia in the first place, and she certainly did her part to make sure I don’t conquer it any time soon!

Crappy Vision Leads To Crappy Situations
CANADA, HEALTH & BODY, NON-DIALOGUE, OPTOMETRIST/OPTICIAN, PATIENTS, REVOLTING | HEALTHY | JUNE 18, 2020
I work at a specialty ophthalmologist clinic. Patients, who are often already visually impaired, often see worse than they usually do right after their appointment, especially if they’ve had their eyes dilated or had treatment.

We have an older patient population, as well, and unfortunate bathroom explosions are prone to happen from time to time, although thankfully they’re usually confined to the bathroom stalls.

One day, a patient comes to check out with me and is mumbling about needing directions and how they’re not able to see well. I lead them to the elevator — assuming she is leaving after her appointment — and as the doors open, she says, “Is this the toilet?”

“Oh, no, no!” I exclaim and lead her the proper way to the bathrooms, picturing the disaster we could have had on our hands.

Some Doctors Should Be Dislocated From Their Professions
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, GYM, HOSPITAL, LAZY/UNHELPFUL, MIDDLE SCHOOL, USA, WASHINGTON | HEALTHY | JUNE 17, 2020
When I am in middle school, I do gymnastics through the school. During the last meet of my last year at the school, I dislocate my shoulder doing a cartwheel while I am warming up. Looking back, this is all pretty hilarious. At the time, not so much.

I’m slightly in shock but I know something’s wrong. I’m crumpled against the practice beam.

Me: “[Coach], [Coach]!”

My coach was watching the current student perform her routine and thought I just had questions, so she’s shushing me. Up in the stands, my mom saw me fall but thought that I’d just bumped the beam when I went down.

Mom: *Jokingly to a family friend* “I know she’s had worse. She just needs to shake it off; she’ll be fine.”

Back on the floor, a couple of teammates and one of the other coaches have realized that there’s a problem. They get me upright and the coach signals my mom to get down to the floor. By this time, the initial shock has worn off and I’m in massive amounts of pain — when my shoulder dislocates, my arm gains about three inches in length and what feels like 1000 pounds — so there is some minor crying going on on my part. My mom gets into the locker room, gets a hold of my dad, and tells him to stay in the car because we need to get to urgent care.

We get ice on my shoulder and my mom uses an ace bandage to immobilize things and we get in the car. We get down to urgent care and I remember this guy who sees me and lets me go ahead of him — not sure what his issue was, but thank you so much for letting the screaming and crying teenager jump the line!

We get into the exam room and the doctor comes in and starts examining things. Keep in mind that, A, I’m in a gymnastics leotard and, B, there’s a noticeable divot at my shoulder. He starts poking where my shoulder is supposed to be and asking if it hurts. At that point, not really, and I tell him so. He then starts probing my arm and gets to where my shoulder actually is, and of course, there’s a ton more pain and I tell him so.

The doctor looks up at both my parents.

Doctor: “So, this isn’t a dislocation; she’s broken her humerus. I’m going to order X-rays to be sure, and then we’ll get this fixed.”

Both my parents just stare at him, because it’s obvious that it’s a dislocation. Honestly, my dad was a medic when he was in the army, but the only reason he didn’t reduce my shoulder himself was that he didn’t want to risk something getting pinched. The X-rays get developed, and what do you know, my shoulder is dislocated.

Doctor: “Well, uh, I’m going to send you to the ER. They’ll have better drugs to give her. We’ll give her something to help for now and call ahead to get you guys checked in.”

A nurse comes in and gives me a shot of Demerol — I think; it might have been Dilaudid — and then we’re off to the ER. We get to the ER and they get us checked in, get vitals, and give me the exact same dose of Demerol. Then, they get me into a waiting gurney in the hallway.

We wait there for a while — I don’t remember much of it because I was so drugged up — but my mom finally goes out and asks what’s going on, so then they move me to a bed behind a curtain. I get hooked up to monitors and then to morphine, as well.

Looking back, there were an awful lot of drugs onboard that night. Again, hindsight humor: I thought I was asleep 90% of the time, but apparently, I wasn’t; my parents never mentioned if I said anything weird, but I’m sure I was entertaining.

There is more waiting and my mom finally goes out to the nurses’ station where they are just hanging around.

Mom: “Hi. Excuse me. Could we get some assistance back here? I know this probably isn’t exactly a high priority, but my daughter is fourteen and in pain and a little scared. Can someone please take a look?”

There was a flurry of activity and, within a few minutes, my shoulder was reduced. The doctor then had to pin me to the bed because I immediately tried to put my arms over my head. I suddenly felt better; why wouldn’t I try to use my arm?

My mom called urgent care a few days later to complain about the doctor we’d seen there and it turns out the guy was an allergist! He’d been covering the on-call because they’d had to make a run to help a patient. Mom thinks he was just scared to reduce it which is why he’d sent us to the ER.

A Birthday Balm For Your Birthday Break
AWESOME, DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, HOSPITAL, NURSES, OREGON, USA | HEALTHY | JUNE 16, 2020
I have just fractured my wrist for the third time. Just for you curious people, I was rollerskating and I fell backward and landed on it. We get to the ER and, lo and behold, the same ER doctor that assisted us last time is the one assisting us now, so my parents chat and catch up a bit while the ER doctor examines my wrist.

Then, this conversation happens. It is the seventh of December.

ER Doctor: *After asking some questions* “So, when is your birthday?”

Me: *Eyeroll* “The fourteenth of December.”

ER Doctor: “Oh, happy early birthday!”

Me: “Thanks.”

I’m thinking that my party is tomorrow and requires some physical work and I am just worried I can’t do it. They confirm that my wrist is broken with X-rays and such, and all I want to do is go home, but they still have to put a cast on my wrist.

All of a sudden, some nurses come in, and they have some little presents with them: a toy car, a lavender chapstick, and some other goodies.

Nurses: “We heard it was your birthday next week and we thought we could start it off with some little presents.”

My Parents & Me: “Oh, my goodness, thank you so much!”

I was so happy I just sat there, shocked.

I still have the lip balm to this day, and it just reminds me how awesome nurses and healthcare people can be. They literally took time out of their day just to make a sad almost-fourteen-year-old happy.

The Cat’s Meow Isn’t Worse Than Its Bite
AUSTRALIA, HOSPITAL, NON-DIALOGUE, PATIENTS, PETS & ANIMALS, QUEENSLAND | HEALTHY | JUNE 15, 2020
I consider myself a bit of a medical disaster; if something goes wrong, it does so in the most spectacular or strange manner.

This story begins the day before I head to the ER. My indoor cat makes a mad dash for the front door while I am taking rubbish out and disappears for a few minutes. As he is a black cat, and it is 1:00 am, he’s practically invisible.

His presence is made known when he starts getting his a** handed to him by a cat half his size across the road. I sigh, knowing that separating them will get me scratched up, but as a lifelong cat owner, I decide it’s worth it just to get him safely indoors.

What I am not expecting is my cat latching onto my hand, violently. He bites my hand and digs his claws up my arm! I get him back home and begin to clean the wound. It’s deep, but not bad enough for me to realise it needs medical attention. It’s late at night but I wake my parents to let them know what’s happened because I know how dangerous cat bites can be. With copious amounts of disinfectant, and closing up the most suspect scratches, I head to bed.

During my shift at work the next day, it becomes apparent it needs further attention. I get out of my shift at 9:00 pm, call a nurse hotline, and am told that I really need to be at the hospital within twenty-four hours of the initial bite. Off to the ER I go, much at the dismay of my parents. They’re convinced I’ll be given a prescription of antibiotics and sent home.

Funnily enough, the reception nurse is a lady I assisted at work during the day, and we have a chat while waiting for the doctor. She asks me to take the bandage off my hand, and her face falls. I haven’t really looked at it for a few hours, but it has clearly swollen to almost twice the size of my other hand.

I get taken out back, but there are no beds available. I apologise for taking up valuable time and resources, but they say that they trust my judgment and that it was the right call to come in. The doctor finally makes it in and starts preparing me for an IV. I’m kind of shocked because at this stage I was still just expecting them to clean it and send me home with a prescription. I call my dad, who has been sitting in the car waiting for this “inevitable” outcome, but when he sees the situation, he is shocked, too.

I have terrible veins, which is great fun for all the blood tests I’ve needed in my time. They try to get one into my left arm, the one without injury, and fail. I’m informed it’s really against all best interests to have the injured arm stuck, but they have to go for it anyway. I receive the first round of antibiotics, and some painkillers, too. I’m asked when my last tetanus shot was. I think for a second, and then laugh.

My last tetanus shot was in 2012 when I was hospitalised… for a cat bite that pierced a hole through my skull! (Different cat!)

I’m admitted overnight and placed in the children’s ward, despite being an adult, as they really need to monitor my situation. I also need my arm suspended above my head, which is very uncomfortable with the attached drip. A sleepless night ensues.

The next day, as I’m about to be discharged, four rounds of antibiotics later, I hear the doctor speaking to the patient in the bed beside me. He mentions an animal bite, and I think that he may have the wrong patient.

Nope! The lady beside me, who was admitted mere minutes before me, is there for a snake bite! We end up laughing over it and realise that my situation is actually worse; I am genuinely at risk of losing my hand, but Snake Bite Lady is comparatively fine!

Although I now have a few scars up my hand and arm, it was almost worth the pain when the hilarity of the situation hit realising that my house cat bite was worse than a venomous snake bite!

The Babyface Will Get You Every Time
EMPLOYEES, JERK, PHARMACY, USA | HEALTHY | JUNE 14, 2020
I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder as a pre-teen and have been on meds ever since. I’m in my late twenties but have a babyface.

My doctor has just called in a new prescription for me, as I’ve run out of refills. I’m at the pharmacy and the tech has just brought up my meds.

Tech: “Oh, this is a new prescription. You have to do a consult with the pharmacist.”

Me: “That’s not necessary. I’ve been taking this for a long time.”

Tech: “He wants to speak with you. There’s a note here. I’ll be right back.”

He calls the pharmacist, an older man, over. He gives me a look and starts talking to me in a very patronizing tone.

Pharmacist: “Okay, [My Name]. Now, for [Medicine], you have to take this every day. You can’t skip this. Okay? Do you understand? Because—”

Me: “I’m going to stop you right there. I’ve had [Autoimmune Disorder] for fifteen years and have been taking daily meds for it that entire time. I know exactly what [Medicine] does and how sick I get if I don’t take it.”

Pharmacist: “But this is listed as a new prescription. You haven’t taken this before.”

Me: “Yes, I have. I ran out of refills and my doctor called in a new one. I’ve been on the same dosage for years. Check my fill history. Why do I need a consult, anyway? I’ve never needed one before.”

Pharmacist: “Um… [Tech] will get you rung up now.”

He exited. I didn’t see that pharmacist after that.

Like Taking Candy From A Baby… Or Not…
COLORADO, FUNNY KIDS, HOSPITAL, NON-DIALOGUE, PATIENTS, USA | HEALTHY | JUNE 13, 2020
While still an infant, I contract rotavirus, an illness that causes severe diarrhea.

In my case, the sickness is severe enough that eating or drinking causes almost immediate diarrhea. I’m taken to the hospital and put on an IV for fluid and nutrients.

I’m absolutely miserable and desperately want something to eat, but I’m not allowed anything to avoid further irritation of my bowels. To try and calm me down, I’m given an empty bottle to suck on.

At one point, a nurse comes in to check on the IV. As she’s adjusting it, I hold up my empty bottle to her and start whining for her to fill it. The nurse takes the bottle and pretends to fill it from the IV and hands it back. I start sucking only to realize I’ve been deceived.

As my mom tells it, I proceed to chuck the bottle across the room in protest.

That’s Generally Uncomfortable…
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, HOSPITAL, INDIANA, JERK, NURSES, USA | HEALTHY | JUNE 7, 2020
I’m getting a vasectomy, and my doctor asks if I want a local or general anesthetic. Since I have problems with general anesthetics, I opt for the local.

After supposedly numbing the target area, he begins the procedure.

Doctor: “Let me know if you feel anything.”

Me: “I can feel that!”

Doctor: “You were the one that opted for a local anesthetic!”

Me: “You were the one that said to tell you if I felt anything!!”

The next day, a stitch popped and I had some very minor bleeding. I gave his office a call because, you know, that doesn’t seem like something that’s supposed to happen. The nurse said, “Well, that’s what they do!”

This doctor had a history of being jerky, but my philosophy at the time was “better the devil you know…”

So Much For Birth Control
BIZARRE, FAMILY & KIDS, GERMANY, HOSPITAL, PATIENTS | HEALTHY | JUNE 6, 2020
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

I’m a doctor working at the surgical emergency ward on a calm Saturday afternoon when a very large woman is brought in via ambulance. I’m wrapping up my last case at the computer but can hear her wailing from behind her curtain; we, unfortunately, don’t have separate rooms.

Another surgeon is with her within minutes.

Doctor: “All right, I’ve heard you called an ambulance for abdominal pain. Have you experienced similar symptoms before?”

Patient: “No! Help! Please, do something!”

Doctor: “Sure, give me just a minute. I need to find out the cause of your pain first to give you the right medication. Could you describe your symptoms a bit more in detail?”

Patient: “I have these cramps. They started early this morning and keep getting worse! Sometimes it’s a bit better but it keeps coming back! Oh, please do something!”

The doctor puts a hand on her belly, frowns, and then looks at her sharply.

Doctor: “Ma’am, is it possible that you’re pregnant?”

Patient: “Aaauuuugh! Ah… No… I don’t think so? I didn’t get my period for some time due to stress…”

The doctor motions for a nurse to get him an ultrasound.

Doctor: “Ma’am, when was your last period?”

Patient: *Winces* “I don’t know? Some months ago… December? No, earlier, I think.”

The nurse comes back with the ultrasound and the doctor finishes his examination. When he puts the probe on her belly…

Doctor: “Wow. I don’t usually get to see this, but it’s quite clear. See here? This is a head, and there’s the spine. With the periodic contractions you’re describing, I’m fairly sure you’re in labour.”

Patient: “What?! No! I can’t!”

Doctor: “Oh. I’m sorry; it seems I was wrong.”

Patient: “Praise the Lord. Don’t scare me like that!”

Doctor: “Sorry, that’s not what I meant. There’s another head. It’s twins.” *To the nurse* “Please inform the gynecologists and call a transport to get her to the labour room.”

Patient: “Noooooooooooo! ” *Screams unintelligibly*

Not even half an hour later, we got a call from the gynecologists. It was two healthy babies, seemingly on term, and which blood tests did we already order?

I’m glad they were delivered safely and healthily, but judging by their mom’s reaction to her pregnancy… I can’t help but worry for their future.

Might Be Time To Change Doctors
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, GRAND RAPIDS, MEDICAL OFFICE, MICHIGAN, PARENTS/GUARDIANS, USA | HEALTHY | MAY 31, 2020
I work for a doctor’s emergency answering service. A frantic woman calls in at three am.

Me: “Hello, [Service].”

Woman: “I need [Doctor] to call me ASAP! My son has swallowed a nickel!”

Me: “Certainly. Just let me get some information and I’ll have [Doctor] call you right back.”

The woman gives me all the pertinent info. I call [Doctor] and wake him up from a very obvious sound sleep.

Me: “Sorry to wake you, [Doctor]. I’ve got a call from [Woman]; she says her son has swallowed a nickel.”

There’s a five-second pause.

Doctor: “So, is he choking or does she want me to make change?”