Sả là một gia vị được nhân ta dùng phổ biến, đồng thời cũng là một cây thuốc chữa bệnh và trừ côn trùng tốt.
Sả là loại cây thảo sống dai, cao khoảng 1m, mọc thành bụi (tên khoa học là Cymbopogon Citratus (L.) Pers.), thuộc họ lúa (Poaceae). Củ sả là một gia vị được dùng trong chế biến nhiều món ăn, chủ yếu là để kích thích tiêu hoá, khử được mùi tanh của cá, thịt, giúp thức ăn thêm thơm ngon.
Theo Đông y, sả vị the, mùi thơm, tính ấm, có tác dụng làm ra mồ hôi, thông tiểu tiện và tiêu thực. Sả được dùng chủ yếu làm thuốc chữa cảm sốt, đầy bụng, tiêu chảy...
Liều lượng mỗi ngày 8 - 12g lá và củ sả dưới dạng thuốc xông hay thuốc hãm. Phổ biến nhất là nồi nước xông lá sả phối hợp với một số lá khác như lá tre, lá cúc tần, lá bưởi, lá tía tô. cây ngãi cứu.. mỗi thứ một nắm, đem nấu nước xông cho ra mồ hôi để chữa cảm sốt, nhức đầu.
Tác dụng chính của sả là ở tinh dầu. Trong lá sả có tinh dầu, thành phần chủ yếu là geraniola và citronelola. Vì vậy, khi ta vò lá sả thấy có một mùi thơm đặc biệt phảng phất mùi thơm của chanh.
Tinh dầu sả bôi lên da hoặc phun trong nhà có thể xua đuổi được ruồi, muỗi và các loài côn trùng khác như dĩn, bọ chét... do đó thường được dùng làm thuốc trừ muỗi và khử mùi hôi.
Phụ nữ cũng thường nấu nước lá sả để gội đầu cho trơn tóc, sạch gầu và có thể tránh được một số bệnh về tóc.
Ngoài ra, củ sả và tinh dầu sả còn dùng để chữa một số bệnh thông thường như : Lấy 3 - 6 giọt tinh dầu sả pha với xi-rô và nước, cho bệnh nhân uống để chữa đau bụng, đầy bụng, chống nôn và thông trung tiện. hoặc thái cũ sã đem ngâm rượu đễ dành khi đau bụng gió uống 1 li nhỏ
Awesome, Health & Body, home, Inspirational, Kansas, Neighbors, USA | Healthy | April 18, 2019
I’m an adult living with my parents. My mom’s chiropractor lives across the street from us. One day at an appointment, she is telling him that she is rather sore. She has to do most of the chores around the house, including mowing the lawn, because both my dad and I are recovering from surgery.
A few days later, my dad steps outside to get the newspaper and finds the chiropractor mowing our lawn for us.
Blood Donation, New York, Silly, Spouses & Partners, USA | Healthy | April 17, 2019
(For those who don’t know, there is a specialized blood donation process called apheresis. In this type of donation, the platelets are separated out of the bloodstream and collected, while the rest of the blood is returned to the body. It takes longer than a regular whole blood donation but can be done more often so people can give more. The phone rings and I answer it.)
Me: “Hello?”
Caller: “Hello, this is [Caller] from the American Red Cross calling to speak to [Husband] about scheduling an apheresis appointment.”
Me: *calling out* “[Husband], it’s the Red Cross. They want to suck your blood!”
Hospital, Patients, Silly, UK | Healthy | April 15, 2019
(I’ve been referred to a gynaecologist. After taking my history he shows me behind a curtain, where there is a bed with stirrups, and asks me to get ready for an examination. After a minute or two, I am ready.)
Doctor: *from the other side of the curtain* “Are you decent?”
(My legs are in stirrups, and my genitals are completely exposed.)
Me: *jokingly* “Well, I definitely wouldn’t say I’m decent…”
Columbus, Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Medical Office, Ohio, USA | Healthy | April 14, 2019
(I am coming in for a routine checkup with my GP. I am female and he is going through all the questions. Then, we get to the contraceptive part.)
Doctor: “Are you on birth control?”
Me: “No, I don’t react well to it.”
Doctor: “So, what do you use for protection?”
Me: “Condoms.”
Doctor: “Condoms are fine and all, but not 100% effective. You should really also be on birth control pills.”
Me: “Well, I tried taking the lowest dose offered, but I gained a ton of weight and was always throwing up while I was on it. I don’t react well to it and prefer not to take it. Condoms work just fine.”
Doctor: “Just using condoms is like playing Russian Roulette! It does not protect you 100%!”
Me: *thinking to myself that the “pullout method” was more akin to “Russian Roulette* “Well, again, I get really sick when I’ve taken it in the past, so I really don’t want it.”
(He went on for about five minutes more on how I was being “risky.” I couldn’t help but feel he was being a “pill pusher” and not listening to what I was saying. At that point, I was 26 and married with a steady job, so if I did accidentally become pregnant it wouldn’t have been the end of the world. Every time I went in after that, he was always pushing birth control. I think I need a new GP.)
Extra Stupid, Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, Patients, USA, Virginia | Healthy | April 13, 2019
I’m the dumb patient here.
I had just received a cortisone shot for hip pain and the nurse was giving me post-op instructions, one of which was no soaking baths for three days. I said that I was driving to Chicago the next day and was disappointed that I couldn’t use the hotel hot tub, but then I said, “Well, that’s okay; I’ll just swim extra laps.”
The nurse gave me an odd look and reminded me that the instructions also meant “no swimming.”
Food & Drink, home, Instant Karma, Pranks, Siblings, Singapore | Related | June 30, 2020
It’s dinner time. My younger brother’s eyes are glued to his device and he is barely eating. My parents are adamant that I am not to steal his device — again — so I am reduced to nagging him to eat faster. It isn’t working. After I’ve lost my patience, I say this.
Me: “[Younger Brother]. You will start eating your food faster, or else I’ll be forced to feed you.”
He’s like eight. I thought that threatening to feed him like a baby would have been embarrassing enough. Alas, he calls my bluff.
Younger Brother: *Not even looking up* “Sure!”
I sigh, scoop a mouthful of food, and offer it to him. He eats it without even looking and visibly winces. After struggling with the worst expression of disgust, he finally swallows his food and glares at me.
Younger Brother: “What the h*** was that?”
Me: *Unrepentant grin* “Liver. It is just the worst, isn’t it?”
The two of us absolutely hate liver. On the other hand, our mom loves it, which is why there is some available at the dinner table.
Younger Brother: “Why did you feed me that?!”
Me: “It’s not my fault you weren’t looking at what you were eating.”
That finally got him to put down his device and start eating in earnest. Unfortunately, over the years, I’ve had to redo this trick several times to get him off his device, mostly using chili, which was more common than liver and had far more amusing and effective results. You’d think he’d have learned his lesson by now.
Canada, Crazy Requests, Food & Drink, Restaurant, Saskatchewan, Saskatoon | Right | June 29, 2020
Customer: “I want my meal free for this!”
Me: “I’m… sorry, sir, what is the problem?”
Customer: “My burger is a little bit greasy.”
I work in the restaurant portion of, ostensibly, a truck stop. Burgers are greasy everywhere, but what do you expect? I examine the burger.
Me: “It doesn’t look any greasier than any of the other burgers we serve. It’s just the meat juices; it’s perfectly harmless.”
Customer: “It’s greasy, d*** you! I want my meal for free!”
Me: “Well, I could… get a napkin and soak up some of—”
Customer: “No, I want my meal free!”
Me: “Um, I’m not able to apply discounts to meals myself; I’ll have to get the manager for you. One moment.”
The guy started a scene and shouted quite a bit at the manager, who was adamant about not giving him a discount for acceptably-made food. The manager eventually kicked him out so he wouldn’t disturb the other customers and blacklisted his Trucker Rewards Card across our entire chain.
Australia, Food & Drink, home, In-Laws, Jerk, Melbourne | Related | June 29, 2020
My husband’s brother has moved in with us due to not being able to afford a place of his own. From the beginning, he’s made extra demands in regards to the food I cook. I already deal with a fussy eater — my husband, who will only eat specific items — and am not going to prepare multiple foods to appease [Brother-In-Law].
He makes passive-aggressive complaints about that to the rest of the family. I never say anything about this, always trying to keep the peace. I do make one change: I start making him a salad course to have with meals. He’s made no effort to help us pay for the extra food we now have to buy.
It’s the beginning of mango season; they are pretty expensive but I decide to buy myself one as a treat. That evening, I prepare dinner as normal and give [Brother-In-Law] his salad and main course. Afterward, I collect the plates.
Brother-In-Law: “Dinner was nice this evening, but I was disappointed with the salad.”
Me: “What was wrong with it?”
Brother-In-Law: “Oh, nothing really, it’s just that I like to have fruit in my salad. I saw that you had bought a mango and was expecting that to be in my salad. Next time, put mango in.”
Me: *Seething at this demand* “No one gets any of my f****** mango.” *Stomps off*
I stopped making him salads after that because I wouldn’t want him to have to eat disappointing food.
Customer: *With disgust* “Ugh, peanut butter has so much cholesterol in it!”
Me: *Pleasantly* “I’m sorry, but peanut butter doesn’t have any cholesterol in it.”
Customer: *Clearly offended* “What do you mean?!”
Me: “Well, cholesterol is a molecule found in the cell membranes of animals to help keep it more rigid. Plants, such as peanuts, have a sturdy cell wall protecting it; they have no need for cholesterol.”
The customer seems to get angry that I clearly know what I’m talking about and she doesn’t.
Current Events, Food & Drink, Parents/Guardians, Silly, Supermarket, UK | Related | June 26, 2020
I work in a supermarket. My mum is vulnerable and thus gets online orders, but she hates the quality and dates that are on some of the perishables, so she gives me a list of carriable perishables; I don’t drive so I can’t just get everything. I’ve realised she’s not put bananas on there and I know she’s out, so I give her a call.
Me: “Hey, Mum, just want to check if you want me to get bananas, too.”
Mum: “Oh… Um… No, they’re kind of heavy, so I’ll get them with the big items shop.”
Me: “They’re not that heavy. I can manage them. And your big item shop isn’t until… another fortnight.”
Mum: “Err… no. I’ve already put a lot on your list. But I’ll put them on your Tuesday list.”
Me: “I’m not working Tuesday. If I don’t get them today, you won’t have bananas until Friday. Are you really willing to go five or six days without bananas?”
Food & Drink, Health & Body, Restaurant, Tennessee, USA | Right | June 26, 2020
I’m waiting tables in the bar area of a chain restaurant. I have one table of two women. One of them has ordered a burger with no tomato. I forgot to ring in the change so she gets a normal burger.
Customer: “Excuse me; I asked for no tomato.”
Me: “I’m so sorry! I’ll take that back to the kitchen and get it taken off for you.”
Customer: “No! I’m allergic and this burger is contaminated; I need a new one.”
I relay this information to the kitchen and they begin cooking a new burger without tomato. Not five minutes have passed and I go back to the table.
Customer: “Where is my burger? She—” *points to her friend* “—is almost finished and I’m still waiting. What’s taking so long?”
Me: “You said you needed a new, uncontaminated burger. It takes time to cook and we have several other tables to prepare food for.”
She shut up but still looked obviously annoyed. I brought her the new burger and apologized again. A few minutes later, I returned to the table to make sure everything had come out right, and I noticed she had smothered her burger in ketchup. It took everything in me not to ask if she knew what ketchup was made of.
I understand the inconvenience of the order being wrong, but don’t lie about an allergy and then complain when you have to wait for your order to be completely remade.
Atlanta, Extra Stupid, Food & Drink, Georgia, Jerk, Nurses, Restaurant, USA | Right | June 26, 2020
We tend to get a lot of delivery orders to the local hospital around the corner. It’s usually not a problem, but we have been having some issues with entitled and dishonest nurses.
Today, I get a call for four orders for four different nurses, with four salads: a Mediterranean, two Greeks, and a side garden salad. I make the salads, label the boxes, and bag them.
About an hour and a half later, I get another call. This time it’s a different nurse than the one that placed the order.
Nurse #2: “Yeah, we’re missing a salad.”
Me: “I’m sorry about that. There were four salads for four orders, correct?”
Nurse #2: “Yeah. But [Nurse #3] was supposed to have a Greek salad, but I’m standing here looking at a garden. I’ve got her ticket right here.”
Me: “Okay, let me go back over the orders and make sure—”
Nurse #2: *Interrupting me* “I don’t know what everyone else got, just that [Nurse #3] didn’t get the right one! She’s pissed off that she paid $11 for a salad and [entrée] and you guys messed it up! And your delivery driver! He forgot the salads the first time when he brought the hot food and had to go back. So this is now the second time! We just want a credit or something because this is getting ridiculous.”
Me: “I’m sorry to hear about the delivery issue, and I’ll have a word with the boss about it. I can give you the credit. May I have a phone number so that the next time [Nurse #3] calls, she can use it?”
Nurse #2: *Snapping* “I don’t know her number! Here, let me transfer you to her.”
The phone slams and hold music plays. By this point, I’ve had two tables sat in my section, so I manage to step aside to let them know I’ll be right over. After a few minutes, someone takes the phone off of hold.
Nurse #4: “[Hospital], how can I help you?”
I internally sigh.
Me: “Hey, I’m from [Restaurant] and I’m trying to issue a credit to [Nurse #3].”
Nurse #4: “Okay, what do you need?”
Me: “I just need a phone number for [Nurse #3].”
Nurse #4: “Oh! The department number is [unfamiliar number]. Will that work?”
I know that the nurses switch around a lot.
Me: “Is that [Nurse #3]’s usual department?”
Nurse #4: “Oh, no. She’s just filling in. Let me transfer you to her.”
I’m about to start banging my head on the desk when [Nurse #3] finally picks up.
Me: “Hey, I’m calling from [Restaurant] and there was an issue with your salad? I’ve been asked to give you a credit, but I need your number so that someone else doesn’t claim your credit.”
Nurse #3: *Flatly* “It’s [cell number].”
Me: “Okay, great! I’ve issued a credit for you, so when you’d like to use it, give us this number and it should pop right up. Is there anything else needed today?”
Nurse #3: *Snarkily* “So when’s the money going to go back on my card?”
I stop.
Me: “That would be a refund. I was told that you were looking for a credit for the salad.”
Nurse #3: “Yeah, so?”
Me: “I can issue one or the other, but not both. Which one would you rather have?”
Nurse #3: *Deep sigh* “I guess the refund, then!”
I delete the credit and void her payment. I then explain the basic spiel about how the refund may show up on her bank account and that the charge should just drop off.
Nurse #3: “Well, is that it?”
Me: “Actually, out of curiosity, did the order with [entrée and a side salad] get everything correctly?”
Nurse #3: “Yeah, she got a free upgrade to a Greek salad! She said it was delicious!”
We hang up and I go let my boss know about what had happened. He listens for a while.
Boss: “From now on, bag each salad separately, with each hospital person’s name on it. Also, go put a note on the department’s account that a refund was received on this date, for [refund amount], and to whom. Sounds to me like they may try to get a credit for the salad or the whole order.
Sure enough, a couple of days later, they tried to convince the cashier that they were due a credit for all four orders, as “none of them” received the correct salads!
British Columbia, Canada, Food & Drink, Restaurant | Right | June 22, 2020
I work in the deli section of a mainly Asian grocery store where we serve hot Chinese food. Our combinations include one, two, or three items plus your choice of rice or a noodle; we have two rice and three noodle dishes.
Customer: “I’d like a two-item combo with the fried rice, ginger beef, and beef and broccoli.”
Me: “A two-item with fried rice, ginger beef, and beef and broccoli. For here or to go?”
Customer: “To go.”
The customer walks away to grab a drink. I serve the rice and begin scooping up ginger beef. The customer returns.
Customer: “That’s not what I ordered.”
Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am, I thought you said a two-item combo with fried rice, ginger beef, and beef and broccoli?”
The customer points at the Singapore fried vermicelli noodle.
Customer: “Yeah, I want that one. It says right here on the tag Singapore Fried. That’s what I want.”
Me: “So the fried vermicelli noodle, ginger beef, and beef and broccoli, not the fried rice? Sorry about that!”
I start dishing up the new combination for her.
Customer’s Friend: “Ugh! The service here is terrible
Connecticut, Employees, Extra Stupid, Food & Drink, Sandwich Shop, USA | Working | June 20, 2020
My boyfriend and I are customers. We are the only ones in line and there is one employee behind the counter. The popular “fresh eats” sandwich shop has two new wraps, so we each order one so we can try them both. My sandwich is steak and guacamole. This story starts after the steak and cheese comes out of the toaster.
Employee: “Any toppings?”
Me: “Doesn’t it come with guac?”
Employee: “It’s optional, so yeah, if you want it.”
Me: “Yes, please.”
I am already thinking this is strange.
Me: “And also [other toppings].”
The employee GLOBS on the guac next to everything and rolls my wrap up, rolling it towards the huge pile of guac he put on, squishing it everywhere
I should say something now, but I don’t think it is that bad, and since we are on break from work, we don’t have a lot of time, so we pay and leave.
We drive off and I open my wrap and there is guac ALL OVER everything, including the paper around it. I call my boss to tell her I will be back ASAP but my food is inedible. She says no worries, so we turn around. I am already in tears over this because I have some other things going on, so my boyfriend takes the sandwich to ask them to remake it. This time, someone else is there and there is a line.
Boyfriend: “Can you remake this? It’s a mess; she can’t eat this.”
Employee: “Well, yeah, you wanted guac. I cannot spread it with everything else on the wrap. It is optional; you said you wanted it.”
Me: *Finally speaking up* “Well, can you have him make it, then?”
I point to the other employee.
Employee: “Sure.”
I know I’ve pissed him off, since he goes into the back. He comes back and takes over cash for the other employee to send him to me. I know I made the right call as soon as he starts making my food.
Employee #2 : “The steak and guac? Do you want the guac?”
Me: “Yes, please.”
[Employee #2 ] spread the guac on the wrap BEFORE any other toppings went on.
The second employee’s sandwich was much better. I’ve never had someone assume I DON’T want one of the items in the title of the sandwich and then blame me for the outcome.
Australia, Bigotry, Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office | Healthy | May 11, 2019
(From my first period at age 12, I have been having horrible pain with each menstruation. Several months later, the pain is so bad that I can’t stand. My mother is alarmed and takes me to the ED. They suspect appendicitis and operate, only to find a healthy appendix. I am referred to a gynaecologist.)
Gynaecologist #1: “So, I hear you’ve had a bit of a sore tummy, huh?”
Me: “Yes, it really hurts, and I—“
Gynaecologist #1: “Now, [My Name]. You’re grown up now. This is part of being a woman; you just have to put up with it, all right? Take some paracetamol when the pain starts and get on with it, all right?”
(I’m embarrassed to have caused such a fuss and take what he says to heart. For the next 12 years, I put up with horrendous, increasing pain, assuming all women go through it. Every cycle, without fail, I spend a minimum of 12 hours in such pain I am vomiting. It gets so that I am in pain all the time, even when I’m not menstruating. Finally, at 25, I have an epic period of 17 days of vomit-worthy pain. My parents convince me to go to the ED in my new city where I live.
The ED doctors give me a high dose of morphine and check for acute problems, then refer me to a gynaecologist. I am already convinced that this one will think I am wasting his time, too, and begin rehearsing apologies. Finally, I meet the new gynaecologist.)
Gynaecologist #2: “So, I hear you’ve been sore?”
Me: “Yes…” *describes situation*
Gynaecologist #2: “Can I feel your stomach? Hmm. Okay, I’m not going to, but if I pressed hard, would it hurt?”
Me: “Yes.”
Gynaecologist #2: *taking his hand away* “Does it hurt now?”
Me: “Yes.”
(The gynaecologist went a little grim and told me that I needed an operation immediately. He fit me in the following week and ended up excising a LOT of tissue. It turned out that I had a condition that caused infertility if it was untreated, and the main symptom was immense pain. Luckily, the disease hadn’t yet damaged my tubes so I can still conceive naturally. With medication to manage ovulation and possibly more operations should the tissue regrow, I should be completely healthy. Most importantly, I’m not in constant pain. How lucky that I found a doctor who knew that “women troubles” was no longer a proper medical diagnosis!)
Extra Stupid, Hospital, Illinois, Nurses, USA | Healthy | May 10, 2019
(I’m a surrogate pregnant with twins. I go to have a regular 20-week checkup with ultrasound. After the ultrasound, I’m surprised to be called in immediately for the doctor exam. They tell me my cervix has started opening and has shrunk; they explain I have to go to the women’s and children’s hospital for a high-risk assessment. I denied the ambulance since it is only a couple blocks away and I am not extremely worried about driving two measly blocks. After I arrive, I am brought to a room and told to get in the gown. Twenty minutes later, the nurse comes in.)
Nurse: “I see here you’re pregnant with twins. Congratulations, Mom!”
Me: “Thanks, but they’re not mine. I’m just the oven.”
Nurse: *obviously ignoring me* “Any surgeries we should know about?”
Me: “Yep, tubal ligation two years ago.”
Nurse: “I’m sorry? You had a what?”
Me: “A tubal ligation — my fallopian tubes were cut so I wouldn’t get pregnant unless it was for someone else.”
Nurse: *laughing* “Obviously, it didn’t take!”
Me: “No, it worked. As I know it says in my chart, I am a surrogate. These babies are not mine, nor will they go home with me.”
Nurse: “You’re a what?!”
Me: “Surrogate.”
Nurse: “But you’re pregnant!”
Me: “Yes, and not with my own DNA. When did you graduate nursing school?”
Nurse: “How are you a pregnant surrogate?”
(Thankfully, the high-risk doctor came in at that time, heard her, and, in words I would use for a toddler, explained how surrogacy works. Sad thing is, she was young enough to know about surrogacy, a fact that made me question her intelligence when she said “Friends” was her favorite show and loved when Phoebe was pregnant.)
Doctor/Physician, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | May 10, 2019
(I have hypothyroidism, which has been successfully controlled with medication for several years. Over a couple of months, however, I notice that some of my symptoms are returning. I call my doctor, and she says she will do a blood test. I go to her office for the results.)
Doctor: “Your thyroid level is at 4.9.”
(The maximum is 5.)
Me: “Well, no wonder I’ve been feeling sick! That’s very high.”
Doctor: “Oh, no. You’re fine. Five is the top of the normal range. You’re still under that.”
Me: “But a lot of my old symptoms are coming back. I can’t sleep at night, I’m tired during the day, I’m freezing cold all the time—“
Doctor: “You’re under stress. It’s normal.”
Me: “I HAVE GAINED TWENTY POUNDS IN TWO MONTHS!”
Doctor: “Well, you just need to go on a diet.”
Me: “I exercise five days a week, and I eat my fruits and veggies! I don’t feel like myself. I know my body, and I need a medication change!”
Doctor: “Well, I’m not giving you one, because you’re normal.”
(She tells me to exercise more and gives me a vitamin supplement. I fume, but I take it. A couple of months later, I move to a different state. I go in for an appointment with my new doctor.)
New Doctor: “I’ve been reviewing your test results from your previous doctor, and I noticed your thyroid is at 4.9. That’s very high. Are you feeling okay at that number?”
Me: “Not at all! I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t listen. She kept saying it was normal.”
New Doctor: “I’m not surprised. Older guidelines allow it to get that high, but I’ve found that my patients feel better when their thyroid is at 3 or under. I’m going to order some more blood work.”
(The new blood test showed that my number had skyrocketed to a 6. My new doctor changed my medication immediately. It took a year and three medicine changes to get it right. It turned out that my thyroid number had been creeping up for a couple of years, and my old doctor had just ignored it. I’m happy to report that I’m much better now!)
Doctor/Physician, Germany, Hospital, Jerk | Healthy | May 10, 2019
(I have been diagnosed with Lipo/Lymph-edema several years ago, and because of that, I have gained an ungainly amount of weight on my lower half waist down and my arms. To be honest, I have not stopped caring about my weight, and every miserably failed diet has been a throwback to my mental health, too. My former doctor of choice, sadly, could not keep practicing, so I am on the lookout for a new specialist to take care of me and my needs of MLD — Manual lymph drainage — and compression stockings, to give me at least a little relief from the fluid build up in my extremities. Finding this doctor in a well-known hospital close by, a so-called specialist that was recommended to me, seems to be a lucky find!)
Doctor: “Ah, I see. A classical lip-edema type, complete with lymph-edema. Losing weight is horrible, isn’t it? No wonder, with the genetic factors, and the fact that lip-edema cannot be starved off.”
(Finally, a doctor who is not fat-shaming me or telling me to stop stuffing my face!)
Me: *almost melting into the exam table from relief* “Oh, God, yeah. It’s a nightmare! Not even six months on a 1200-calorie diet helped! And the lymph-edema is making it worse; every step hurts!”
Doctor: “Well, no wonder it hurts. I can–” *presses a thumb into my calf, making a nice deep dent there that stays even after he takes his thumb away* “–do this, and it just shows how much fluid you got. Now, you need to lose weight, drastically, and after you lost 30 to 50 kilograms, you can come back, and we’ll see how you feel.”
Me: “What? You just said… You just said that losing weight…”
Doctor: “Yes, but you need to lose weight! Get a dog or a husband, and you’ll be busy enough to forget about food! To lose weight, you should stop eating those sugary snacks, and the sugary fruit, and all those carbs, and eat more red meat and poultry! But remember, you cannot have too much protein!”
Me: *stares, not believing what I just heard* “Uh… okay? But what about compression stockings, and the MLD?”
Doctor: “Yeah, you see, I am not going to prescribe you that. You can lose weight with a good diet, and then you won’t have those symptoms anymore.”
Me: “You said lip-edema cannot be starved off… and I’m really in pain from the lymph-edema and the fluid build up. At least to help with that?”
Doctor: “Yes, but it is not worth either my time, nor the money, nor the effort to prescribe any of that if you can just lose weight, and forget about it!”
Me: *getting up, feeling like I’m in the twilight zone right now* “All right…”
(I left after that, and met with my family physician, who stared at me, called the health insurance company to complain about that doctor, prescribed me the lymph drainage and compression stockings, gave me a pamphlet about a specialised clinic for my lipo/lymph-edema, and filled out forms to get me a spot there for a three week “rehab.” He also told me to eat “normally/healthily,” since, you guessed it, lip-edema cannot be starved off
Bigotry, Medical Office, New Jersey, Reception, USA | Healthy | May 9, 2019
(As a middle-aged female, I’ve acquired more than a few chronic ailments, and each time I’ve changed jobs, I’ve had to change health insurance companies, resulting in having to be under the care of numerous doctors for the same conditions. I’ve been divorced for 14 years, and I’ve always had my own health insurance as a working adult. While calling up yet another new doctor to make yet another “new patient” appointment, I give the friendly lady receptionist my pertinent information. All goes well until she drops this line
Receptionist: “And that’s your husband’s insurance, correct?”
(That’s the first and ONLY time I’ve ever been asked that, even when I WAS married — and he didn’t even have insurance. Probably shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did, but there was no way she could have ascertained I was married based on anything I told her. Welcome to the 21st century, friendly lady receptionist.)
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