(An order comes to my pharmacy for a well-known antibiotic. This antibiotic is known to smell exactly like rotten eggs, so most of us just hold our breath while we count it and try not to think about it too much. We dispense it to a woman who is picking it up for her teenage son. Everything is normal and she leaves with the prescription, but about 10 minutes later she comes stomping back into the pharmacy, pretty much shoves the person that I am currently helping out of the way, and throws the bottle of medication on the counter.)
Customer: “I want to speak to your manager right now! You guys gave me rotten medication!”
Me: “Really? Let me look at the expiration date on your bottle. Normally we don’t keep anything that has one less than a year away.”
(I look at the bottle and see that the pharmacist wrote a date of over a year away, and I go over to our stock bottle and check and the numbers correspond with each other.)
Me: “Hmm. Well, ma’am, it doesn’t look like this medication is expired but I will have the phar—”
Customer: “You are just lying! I mean, come on and open that bottle! It smells totally rotten! I can’t believe that you would ever give someone bad medication! My son is very very ill!”
Me: “Oh, that’s just because the active chemical that is in this medication has a bad smell. Trust me, I wish there was something that we could do about it back here, too. Most of us hold our breath while we count it.”
Customer: “Stop ****** lying to me. You just don’t want to admit you did something wrong! I will have your job for this, b****!
(At this point the pharmacist who has been listening the whole time walks over.)
Pharmacist: “Ma’am, while I don’t like the fact that you are calling my staff names like that I will let you know two things. One is, certain chemicals have a bad smell. It’s just a fact of life. So, while I know that smell is unpleasant, it’s just one of those side effects that come with being able to take medications that will help your sick son. I assure you it’s supposed to smell that bad. If it didn’t, it wouldn’t work right. Two, since you don’t seem to want to listen to my employees and call them awful names, this will be the last time that you or any members of your family can shop or fill any type of medication here. Maybe in the future you can learn how to treat people the way you want to be treated.”
(The woman proceeded to turn bright red with embarrassment and tried to apologize, but my boss wouldn’t hear it. That was almost two years ago and he still will not allow her or her family to fill their prescriptions at his pharmacy.)
Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Jerk, Patients, USA, Utah |
Healthy | August 8, 2018
(My 26-year-old sister has had problems with endometriosis for five years. She is on medications that she hates, and has thousands of dollars worth of medical bills as a result. She doesn’t want children, and has decided to have her uterus removed, with the support of her therapist, OBGYN, and our family. Because she has never had children, they will have to do the surgery like a C-section, which will have a six-week recovery time, and she cannot take that much time off of work. Her OBGYN recommends her to another doctor who uses robotic-assisted equipment, so she will have a shorter recovery period. She goes to meet with the other OBGYN. The nurse is taking her history, and you can see the judgement on her face. A few minutes later, the OBGYN comes in.)
OB: “I’m not going to try to talk you out of it… Okay, I am. You are very young to have this procedure, and many women who are younger than 30 end up regretting the surgery once it is complete. And you aren’t married; your future husband might want children.”
(He keeps repeating that he isn’t trying to talk her out of it before contradicting himself as he goes on to suggest several other medications — most of which she’s already tried — that caused her to gain weight, suffer severe anxiety and depression, and give her suicidal thoughts. She is extremely sensitive to side effects. Finally, the doctor suggests another medication she hasn’t tried, but has side effects she has suffered before.)
Sister: “No, but I have researched it, and I don’t like the side effects.”
OB: *pointing at nurse* “She’s been on it for eight years, and she’s just fine.”
Mom: “She would rather be an aunt. She has never had any desire to have children, and she is tired of being in pain.”
(It seemed like once he knew my sister had my mother’s approval, he realized he was fighting a losing game. He sighed and gave up, and told us how they would do the procedure, and that they would get in touch with her insurance. Later, my sister told me that she believed the doctor would have flat-out refused to do the surgery if my mother hadn’t been there to back her up, and two weeks after the appointment, she called to check up on what her insurance could do, only to be told they hadn’t even contacted them yet.)
California, Extra Stupid, Medical Office, Patients, San Francisco, USA | Healthy | August 7, 2018
Patient: “I’ve been waiting for a half hour. I am in severe pain and need treatment urgently!”
Doctor: “I’m sorry about that. I want to get you treated as quickly as possible. Let’s walk over right now to the Physical Therapy department. Chiropractic treatments have worked well for you in the past, and we can set you up for some chiropractic treatments right now.”
Patient: “Oh, no, I can’t do that. I am leaving on a vacation cruise for a month. I’ll call to schedule when I get back.”
California, Extra Stupid, Health & Body, home, Non-Dialogue, Parents/Guardians, USA | Healthy | August 6, 2018
At some point when I was a kid, my father got the bright idea of using me for weight-bearing massage “treatments” by having me walk about on his back barefoot while he was lying on the floor. Mom usually gave me a hand to keep me stable. I have no clue if it ever worked to actually help with anything, but he kept periodically having me do it. When I was little I still thought it was fun.
His back seemed to gradually get worse as I grew older: lower spine problems. He mostly stopped having me do the walking massages as I aged into my teens.
Then one day when I was 17, when I hadn’t done it in several years, he seemed to be having some particularly bad back pains, and decided to have me stand on his back again. For some reason he was just absolutely convinced it would magically cure him, and somehow managed to rope Mom into agreeing with this. The problem is that at this point I weighed about 115 pounds — only about 15 pounds less than him — and could tell this was a terrible idea.
I refused. He insisted. I refused again and protested, pointing it out as being foolish and dangerous at my weight relative to his — he is a man of very slight and narrow build. He called me ridiculous. He and Mom both kept insisting, urging, and nagging me, and telling me I was being ridiculous. “Nothing will happen!” “Come on, it’s just a few minutes!” “Just stand on his back for a bit!” “Come on! Just help out your dad!” “It has to be you; there’s no one else, and you still weigh a lot less than Mom!”
After much protesting from me and nonstop insistence and urging — from Mom in particular, who’s always been very good at managing to bully me into doing just about anything against my will — I gave in, despite my better judgment. I very shakily stepped up on Dad’s bare back. His skin was sliding around sickeningly on his back under my feet. I nearly fell off right away, despite Mom doing her best to hold me up there, barely managing to stabilize me with her own entire weight. Meanwhile, he was very impatiently urging me to quit hesitating and being a coward, and get on with it already.
When I finally managed to stand on him properly, putting my entire weight on his back, he grunted alarmingly. Very alarmingly. And then he went abruptly very quiet. After maybe a couple of steps on him, Mom helped me get back off. Then, there were some very pointed, meaningful and alarmed looks between the two of them, but they didn’t actually say anything. I took this to mean I could finally escape the living room. Frankly, I just didn’t much care what was going on as long as I was no longer forced to participate.
There was a quiet commotion behind my back and for the rest of the day, I kind of made a point not to ask any questions for fear of being made to take part in some other poorly-thought-out treatment.
Though they’d never included me in important family concerns or given me any details about dad’s health problems, the general state of things became obvious to me in the next couple of days. What they’d made me do was indeed — Surprise! Surprise! — an incredibly terrible idea. Clearly I was too heavy, and it damaged his back even further. It was pretty severe, as far as I could tell, based the fact that he’d been forced to stay home from work for the next full week while spending pretty much all his time lying flat on the floor, except for occasional doctor’s appointments that Mom somehow had to find a way to cart him to.
Despite knowing it was stupid, I still felt guilty about what happened.
They didn’t say anything to me beyond a vague statement that Dad’s back had gotten worse — as if it was actually even possible to pretend that this had no relation with what they’d made me do. But there was never any hint of admitting that they’d done something foolish or that I’d been right. Unsurprisingly, in the following years, it became clear that Dad’s back was significantly damaged forever after this incident.
Lesson to be learned here: once in a while a teenager really does turn out to be smarter and have more basic common sense than both parents put together.
California, Ignoring & Inattentive, Medical Office, Patients, San Francisco, USA | Healthy | August 6, 2018
Doctor: “Did you bring your MRI?”
Patient: “I drove home to get my MRI, and, yes, I got it; but when I was there I was looking in the refrigerator and I saw pork chops, and I started thinking about pork chops for dinner and how great those are going to be! Well, the pork chops forced the MRI out of my mind, and I forgot all about the MRI and left it on the kitchen table!”
Bizarre, Hospital, Nurses, Patients, Tennessee, USA | Healthy | August 6, 2018
(My nurse recounts this story to my father, her coworker, after I wake up from appendix surgery.)
Nurse: “I’m getting her to recovery and expecting her to be out for another few minutes when she suddenly sits up, turns to me, and tells me in the most deadpan voice, ‘Hey, I’m going to throw up now. Sorry,’ and spews. Then she makes a face, lays back down, and falls right back asleep.”
Dad: *snorts* “Funny thing is, sleep-walking and -talking runs in our family. I do it, and my sister does it. It wouldn’t surprise me if my daughter does, too.”
Nurse: “She warned me. Maybe she just woke up for a minute.”
Dad: “She’s a teenager. She hasn’t been awake since she was twelve.”
(And that’s when I ACTUALLY woke up from the surgery and started grumbling about feeling groggy. Either way, I don’t remember puking, or telling the nurse I was going to. And to be fair to my dad, it’s ten years later, and I’m STILL always tired.)
Dentist, Extra Stupid, France, Patients | Healthy | August 5, 2018
(I study dentistry at a dental clinic in France. The dental clinic is split into what we call services: surgery, prosthetics, urgent care, etc. That means that a patient who wants the teeth we remove to be replaced by a prosthesis needs to coordinate his appointments with both services. It’s more complicated than just going to a regular dentist, but in France clinics make you pay exactly what healthcare reimburses, making it free for everyone, apart from “better” acts, like implants. The basic stuff is 100% covered, though, and that’s why poor people come here. Every service is clearly labeled. I have this interaction while working in the surgery service, with a patient who has six teeth left, and NO prosthesis.)
Me: “So, according to your file, we have to remove those three teeth.”
Patient: “But you will replace them, right?”
Me: “It says in your file that you have an appointment in prosthesis; they will take care of it.”
Patient: “But I want you to do it now! It’s in two months!”
(It is rather urgent that his teeth be removed, as they have already become infected in the past.)
Me: “Ah, well, then, we can remove the teeth now, and you can go to your planned appointment. In fact, it’s not that bad; we require about two to three months of healing before we can make a fully-functional prosthesis.”
Patient: “What will I do without my teeth, though? I’d rather stay like this and come back in two months!”
(The teeth we’re talking about are premolars. His front teeth, the incisors, are long gone, as are his back teeth, his molars. The premolars serve no purpose if they’re not surrounded or faced by other teeth.)
Me: “Are you sure? They could get infected again and cause you a lot of pain. They’re of no use to you, you can’t eat with them, and we don’t see them when you smile.”
Patient: “I want to keep them! What would I do without them?”
(I don’t know, the exact same thing you’ve been doing for the past ten years with your six remaining rotten teeth? He ended up leaving and refused any care. Bet he’ll b**** and moan when, in two months, they tell him they can’t do a nice prosthesis for two other months…)
Funny Kids, Health & Body, home, Non-Dialogue, USA | Healthy | August 4, 2018
When I was little, my mom was trying to teach me to wash my hands after I went to the bathroom. She told me that germs would climb onto my hands from the toilet, and that if I didn’t wash my hands to kill them, they might make me sick.
At that time, I didn’t realize that she meant that there were germs already on the toilet, and thus even flushing the toilet would contaminate my hands. I thought she meant that as I went to the bathroom, the germs would climb up my body, specifically trying to get to my hands so they could make me sick.
This led to a few years of me using the bathroom while holding my hands as far out as I could, so that the germs would have farther to climb. If my arms touched my upper body, for example, the germs could take the shortcut through my elbows and get to my hands sooner. If I took too long, there were germs all over my hands, and I needed to wash them. If I was fast enough, though, the germs hadn’t had a chance to get to my hands, and I didn’t have to wash them.
I am very sure that that was not the lesson my mother meant to teach me, but it’s the lesson my young self learned.
Bad Behavior, Medical Office, Reception, UK | Healthy | August 3, 2018
(The doctors I am with primarily deal with “on the day” appointments, because let’s face it, you can’t schedule when you will be ill. They open at 8:00 am on the dot, and as I’m used to the fact they are busy, I start phoning at 7:59, hitting redial until I get the, “Welcome to…” automated message and not the, “The surgery is closed,” automated message. I’m aiming to be early in the queue of callers trying to get an appointment. Thankfully I get through quickly, having been second in the queue, and ask for an appointment to see a doctor. The receptionist is female, but my doctor is male.)
Receptionist: “Why do you want to see a doctor?”
Me: *politely* “I really would rather not discuss my medical issues with you, and would rather speak to my doctor about it.”
(This is my right here in the UK.)
Receptionist: “But I need to know why you want to see a doctor.”
Me: “I really am uncomfortable discussing it with you.”
Receptionist: “Unless you tell me exactly why you want to see a doctor, you will not today, or at any point, be able to get an appointment!”
Me: *losing my cool* “You are breaching every policy your practice has. I would like to speak to the practice manager, immediately.”
Receptionist: “There will be a short wait.”
(Thirty minutes later I was still on hold, and got another receptionist asking why I was holding for so long. I was put through to the practice manager, who was NOT aware I was waiting. I explained to the practice manager what had happened. I was advised I could come in immediately and see a doctor. I was given time with the doctor to go over my health concerns, which were legitimate concerns, but thankfully came to nothing serious. The first receptionist was made to apologise to me, and when I went back for a follow-up a month later, I was told she was no longer working there. I found out she had been doing this before, but it hadn’t been picked up on as people either caved, or just didn’t complain!)
Canada, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, Quebec, Reception | Healthy | January 18, 2018
(There is a small medical clinic where I live. Usually, for walk-in patients, you get to the door very early, wait until they open it, then head for the desk, where you are assigned an appointment time for the day depending on the order of arrival. Usually, people behave and do not jump forward. Rarely, but sometimes, the clinic isn’t full, and going in mid-morning, you might still get a spot. It’s about 11, and I feel I might have a feminine infection. I stop by the clinic to see if there’s room.)
Secretary: “I’m sorry. There’s a new phone system in place. Now you have to call in the morning and leave your name and phone number. Someone will call you back with the time of your appointment.”
Me: “Well, I’m right here. Can’t you just give me a time?”
Secretary: “No, you have to call.”
Me: “Okay, fine.”
(I make two steps to the side, pick up my cellphone, take the card she gave me with the phone number, and start dialing. The secretary looks at me.)
Secretary: “What are you doing?”
Me: “Calling for an appointment. You said I absolutely had to call.”
Secretary: “Ugh… Okay, I’ll give you one.”
(I believe she suddenly realized that I would have left my info on the answering machine, that she would have listen to it, then call me back with the time, all while I was standing in front of her.)
(I work at a market research firm. Part of my job involves calling the manufacturers of high-tech devices to interview them. Some of the companies I call are very large, and others are quite small family firms. Some of the smaller companies have local radio stations on instead of hold music. Usually these are country music stations with ads about farm equipment. One time though
Me: “Hello, this is [My Name] calling from [Company]. Could I be connected with [Project Manager], please?”
Receptionist: “Sure thing. Please hold.”
Me: “Okay.”
Hold Music: *really loud gangsta rap* “MY MONEY AND MY HOES!”
(I started laughing so hard I had to hang up and call back again.)
Bosses & Owners, Jerk, Lazy/Unhelpful, Office, Spouses & Partners, UK | Working | November 27, 2017
Receptionist: “Hello, [Business].”
Me: “Hi. Could I please speak to [Manager], please?”
Receptionist: *click*
(I phone again, thinking I was just disconnected by accident.)
Receptionist: “Hello, [Business].”
Me: “Hi, I think—”
Receptionist: *click*
(Knowing she actually cut me off this time, I phone back again.)
Receptionist: “Hello, [Business].”
Me: “Why do you keep cutting me off?!”
Receptionist: “Because this is a cold call, and I’m told to hang up on them.”
Me: “Actually, I’m [Manager]’s husband, and I’d like to speak to him.”
Receptionist: “Yeah, right!” *laughing* “I’ve met his wife.” *click*
(Having had enough, I decide to just drive down.)
Receptionist: *smiling brightly* “Hello, welcome to [Business]. How can I help you?”
Me: “I’d like to speak to [Manager].”
Receptionist: “What reason do you have to speak to him? Do you have an appointment?”
Me: “I’m his husband, and no.”
(She realises who I am and sneers.)
Receptionist: *sarcastically* “Really? You’re that desperate?”
(Coincidently, my husband happens to walk by.)
Husband: “[My Name]? What are you doing here?”
Receptionist: “You know this degenerate?” *smugly* “I was just about to have him removed.”
Husband: “What? Why? He’s my husband!”
(The receptionist blushes and we stand in awkward silence for a few seconds.)
Me: *to the receptionist* “You want to explain?”
(The receptionist stammered through her explanation, with me inserting her claim that he had a wife after she neglected to mention it. My husband actually found it hilarious. She isn’t allowed near the phones anymore, though.)
(I’m not the best at keeping track of things on the calendar. I realize that I have not booked an appointment to get my daughter’s follow up vaccines, so I call one morning.)
Me: “Hi, my daughter needs to get her booster shots. I’m afraid I’ve put this off by two months.”
Receptionist: “No problem. You can bring her in this morning.”
Me: “Oh! Perfect! Thanks! We’ll be in soon.”
(She takes my daughter’s name and info. I hung up and began to gather what we’d need for our time out of the house. Just as I reach the front door with diaper bag, book, and baby, the phone rings.)
Me: “Hello?”
Receptionist: “Hi. This is [Receptionist] from [Doctor’s Office].”
Me: “Yes?”
Receptionist: “I’m afraid your daughter won’t be able to get her booster shots on a walk-in basis today as she is two months past schedule.”
Me: “Oh, yes, I know we’re late. What should I do then?”
Receptionist: “You’ll have to call for an appointment.”
Me: “Can I make the appointment now?”
Receptionist: “No. You’ll have to call to make an appointment.”
Me: “Okay.”
(I hang up, look up the number (this was before caller ID), and call the doctor’s office.)
Receptionist: *same voice as before* “Hello, [Doctor’s Office]. [Receptionist] speaking. How can I help you?”
Me: “Yeah, I’m calling to make an appointment for my daughter to get her booster shots.”
Receptionist: “Oh, you don’t need to call for that. She can get them as a walk in.”
Me: “No, I’ve put it off too long. I was told we’ll need an appointment.”
Receptionist: “No, you can just walk in.”
Me: “I was told by you that we’d need an appointment.”
Receptionist: “No, you can just walk in.”
Me: “You called me not three minutes ago saying we’d need an appointment.”
Receptionist: “No, you can just walk in.”
Me: “Okay, instead, I’ll be picking up my daughter’s medical records. We’ll be changing doctors. How soon can I get those?”
Receptionist: “Changing doctors? Why?”
Me: “Just please get the records together. I’ll pick them up in an hour.”
(We did change doctors. Sad, because I liked that one. But dealing with the receptionist was more than I could take.)
Doctor/Physician, England, Jerk, Medical Office, UK | Healthy | August 2, 2018
(I’ve been having stabbing pains in my abdomen and eventually go, by myself, to the doctor surgery. I am also a “Miss,” as in, not married.)
Doctor: “I see you have PCOS. This pain could just be that.”
Me: “I know there’s pain related to that, but it’s not in the right places and does not feel the same.”
Doctor: “Okay.”
(He’s reading my notes, which surprises me, as other doctors at this surgery don’t.)
Doctor: “You know, it’s not as bad as you may think. There’s a lot we can do now to make sure you can have children now.” *goes on a really long spiel about getting pregnant and having kids, etc.* “Do you want me to arrange an appointment to discuss it with [Doctor]? Or would you like to discuss it with your partner first?”
Me: *thoroughly bewildered* “Um… No, thanks.”
Doctor: “You should talk to your partner about it. He might want kids whilst you’re both young.”
(He went on about PCOS more and having kids, before going back to the reason I was there in the first place. I get making sure I knew that there were options for kids in the future, but I don’t have a partner, and don’t want kids –which he didn’t check before going on about it — and that wasn’t the reason why I was there.)
Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Massachusetts, Medical Office, Psychiatrist, USA | Healthy | August 1, 2018
(I’m waiting to see my psychiatrist for a medication check-up. This office schedules meds appointments in fifteen-minute blocks; they’re a quick in-and-out to make sure the meds are working before the prescription is refilled. I arrive five minutes before my appointment and am told I’m seeing a new doctor. I’m a little annoyed that they didn’t tell me this when the appointment was being set up — my father works in the mental health field and I’m uncomfortable being seen by his coworkers — but whatever; maybe my regular doctor is out sick. So, I go to the waiting room. And wait. And wait. At twenty minutes past my appointment time — so, five minutes after it is supposed to be over — I hear the receptionists chatting. They say something about the new doctor having computer problems. Okay, stuff happens. Forty minutes past my appointment time, the person who is waiting before me gets into a shouting match with the receptionists about how late things are running. I’m frustrated too, but an extra person yelling won’t change anything, and I have plenty of time, so I keep waiting. Finally, fifty minutes after my scheduled time, a harried-looking man calls my name and introduces himself as the doctor. I’m expecting him to apologize for the delay, or offer an explanation, or anything. Nope. He doesn’t say a word until we get to his office. Now my appointment starts in earnest.)
Doctor: “So, do think you’re depressed?”
Me: *pause* “This appointment is literally to treat my diagnosed depression, so, um, yeah.”
(He doesn’t respond at all to this. He doesn’t even look at me. He has a walking desk, so he’s power-walking in place while he types on his computer. And he keeps typing. For almost ten minutes. I almost stand up and walk out. But I’ve already been here forever, I don’t want to have to do this all again, and I need my meds refilled. So, I take out my knitting and work on that for a bit.)
Doctor: “Do you want to keep taking [Medication #1 ] and [Medication #2]?”
Me: “Yes, please.”
(He types for a few more minutes.)
Doctor: “I’ve sent in the prescriptions for those. I’ll see you again in five months.”
Me: “Thank you.”
(I get up to leave.)
Doctor: “Wow! You’re so fast at knitting! What are you making?”
Me: “A sweater. Bye.”
(I was at that office for over an hour, but in the appointment for less than fifteen minutes. He said almost nothing to me, and half of what he did say was about knitting. And when I went to the pharmacy, only one of the prescriptions had actually been sent over!)
No Spoonful Of Sugar Is Helping This Medicine Go Down
Bad Behavior, Florida, Jerk, Patients, Pharmacy, USA | Healthy | July 31, 2018
(When you come to pick up a prescription, I have to make sure it’s going to the right person or I get written up and, if I get written up enough times, lose my job. This particular pharmacy asks that we verify the address on file, but if they don’t know it, I’ll usually take some other manner of verification if necessary. It’s late, and there’s an hour and a half left to go of a seven-hour day, and all I want to do is go home, so I admit I’m a bit tired. A guy comes up who couldn’t be more than 22, I’d guess, and I smile and go to the register, asking him who he’s picking up for.)
Guy: “My girlfriend.”
Me: “Okay. What’s her name?”
Guy: “[First Name].”
(I need a last name in particular to search, and unfortunately most of the younger crowd usually never give their last name unless prompted. I have no idea why.)
Me: “What’s her last name?”
Guy: “[Last Name].”
(I go over to get it, which doesn’t take long, and return.)
Me: “And what’s her address, please?”
(He gives me this look like I’ve told him that the sky is green or that he’s standing on his head.)
Guy: “I’ve picked up before and they’ve never, ever asked me for her address before.”
(Then he clearly hasn’t picked up for her before at this pharmacy, because we always ask for the address. I say it so often that even when I’m doing things that don’t require it, I sometimes end up saying the words. Sometimes I end up asking them their address before I ask their name, before I can stop myself.)
Me: “Um… We always ask for the address.”
Guy: “No one has ever asked me before!”
Me: “Well, sometimes if you don’t know it, we’ll try another way to verify. Do you know it?”
Guy: “No!”
Me: “Okay, what’s her date of birth?”
(That, he knows. He tells that to me and I’m assured that I have the right person. A new law was passed in July that on certain types and classes of medicines, I now have to ask for a form of ID and enter it into the computer. What he’s picking up falls into that class.)
Me: “I need to see your ID, please.”
Guy: “Why?”
Me: “It’s the law as of the first of July. I have to have an ID.”
Guy: “Does that mean I have to get hers from the car?”
Me: “No, I need yours, since you’re picking it up.”
Guy: “But… does that mean I have to get hers?”
Me: “Um… No. I need yours.”
Guy: “I don’t have mine.”
Me: “Then she has to come in and pick it up.”
Guy: “Why can’t I just go get hers and give it to you?”
(Now I can understand his hesitancy. There’s a big storm that has been going on all day, but neither weather nor annoying teenagers are going to make me break the law.)
Me: “Because it’s her license. Whatever license I have has to be for the person picking up. It’s the law.”
(We go back and forth about this for another minute, to the point that my pharmacist has to come over and back me up, telling him that we have to follow all rules and regulations, and if it’s her license, it has be her. He finally goes out to get her and comes back in. I think this is a wonderful opportunity to do my job right now that she’s here.)
Me: “What’s your address?”
Girl: *throws her ID on the counter* “On file.”
Me: *blink*
(I’ve never had a customer refuse to give their address. Sometimes they’ll pretend to give me a hard time or forget some of the numbers, but I’ve never had someone give me a smart a** remark about it being “on file,” because most have the intelligence to realize that there’s a reason I’m asking for it and it’s most certainly not to hear myself talk. I want to keep my job.)
Me: “I’m sorry; we ask that for verification. If you don’t know yo—”
Girl: *interrupts snottily* “I know my address. It’s [address].”
(She picked up her license from the counter and proceeded to throw it again. I decided I’d had enough of dealing with the twat that was clearly just too lazy to come in and sent her boyfriend in for her, since I could see no legitimate reason for her not to come in besides the rain. And part of me wanted a little bit of revenge for these people half my age giving me a hard time, so I took my time, every bit of it that I could, prolonging the transaction just because they were antsy. As they left, she shot me a glare, snatched up her prescription, and then went to the industrial scale nearby that people use to measure weight and proceeded to jump up and down on it once or twice before leaving.)
Bad Behavior, Maryland, Pets & Animals, USA, Vet | Healthy | July 30, 2018
(I work the front desk in a highly recommended vet hospital that has both appointments with doctors and a walk-in emergency service. Emergency visits are always a trip. A young man walks in, carrying his dachshund mix. He tells me that his dog is having respiratory distress, so I take her back to see the doctor first before getting his information. It turns out that the dog has been having breathing troubles for two days. The doctor is not impressed with that info and, with client approval, takes some x-rays to see what might be going on internally. It’s cancer, a lot of cancer in all of the places. The dog is not comfortable outside of oxygen, so the vet goes to talk to the owner to explain that euthanasia is the only humane option. By this point, the owner’s father has come to join him and has brought his own dog. He is handling the dog very roughly and occasionally whacks the dog lightly with the end of the leash when he thinks the dog is misbehaving.)
Father: “Vets just want to take your money! Don’t worry, [Dog], they’re not going to see you. This is where dogs come to die.”
(He is making other clients uncomfortable, so I warn the ER doctor as she goes in to speak with them. The client is understandably shocked and upset, but the father is whole other matter.)
Father: “We’re not ready to put her down yet. Can you give us meds to keep her comfortable for another week?”
Vet: “Sir, she isn’t comfortable at all outside of oxygen. It would be against medical advice to take her out of oxygen and take her home.”
Father: “I’ll take her out of oxygen if I want to! It’s not like she’s suffering!”
(The vet was literally so angry she had to leave the room because yes, this dog was suffering! The father continued to be resistant, but the client agreed that it was in her best interest to euthanize her immediately, and handled the rest of the visit like a rational adult.)
Bad Behavior, Maryland, Pets & Animals, USA, Vet | Healthy | July 30, 2018
(I work the front desk in a highly recommended vet hospital that has both appointments with doctors and a walk-in emergency service. Emergency visits are always a trip. A young man walks in, carrying his dachshund mix. He tells me that his dog is having respiratory distress, so I take her back to see the doctor first before getting his information. It turns out that the dog has been having breathing troubles for two days. The doctor is not impressed with that info and, with client approval, takes some x-rays to see what might be going on internally. It’s cancer, a lot of cancer in all of the places. The dog is not comfortable outside of oxygen, so the vet goes to talk to the owner to explain that euthanasia is the only humane option. By this point, the owner’s father has come to join him and has brought his own dog. He is handling the dog very roughly and occasionally whacks the dog lightly with the end of the leash when he thinks the dog is misbehaving.)
Father: “Vets just want to take your money! Don’t worry, [Dog], they’re not going to see you. This is where dogs come to die.”
(He is making other clients uncomfortable, so I warn the ER doctor as she goes in to speak with them. The client is understandably shocked and upset, but the father is whole other matter.)
Father: “We’re not ready to put her down yet. Can you give us meds to keep her comfortable for another week?”
Vet: “Sir, she isn’t comfortable at all outside of oxygen. It would be against medical advice to take her out of oxygen and take her home.”
Father: “I’ll take her out of oxygen if I want to! It’s not like she’s suffering!”
(The vet was literally so angry she had to leave the room because yes, this dog was suffering! The father continued to be resistant, but the client agreed that it was in her best interest to euthanize her immediately, and handled the rest of the visit like a rational adult.)
Crazy Requests, Medical Office, Patients, Texas, USA | Healthy | July 29, 2018
(I work for a company that takes hospital calls and after-hours calls for doctor’s offices. The majority of our doctors DO NOT take certain type calls after office hours, and only specific doctors can be called. Some patients refuse to acknowledge that and only make themselves look the bigger fool. It is late on a Friday.)
Me: “Hello! You’ve reached [Service]; how can I help you this evening?”
Caller: “I need [Doctor] paged.”
Me: “All right, ma’am, [Doctor] is not on call; however, the on-call doctor will be taking the page.”
Caller: “No. I don’t want the on-call doctor; I want [Doctor].”
Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I am unable to do that. It’s against policy to page doctors not on call.”
Caller: “I don’t care; I want [Doctor] paged now.”
Me: “All righty, ma’am, I’ll need this information.”
(I list off information needed and the caller interrupts.)
Caller: “Why do you need that information? You’re the doctor’s office; you should be able to look at the computer.”
Me: “Ma’am, I’m not the doctor’s office. I’m [Service]; I handle after-hours calls at a separate location.”
Caller: *huffily gives half the info needed*
Me: “I also need the reason you need to page the after-hours doctor.”
Caller: “I need my birth-control refilled. I ran out today and I need more.”
Me: *trying not to let the aggravation seep into my tone* “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m unable to page the doctor for this reason. Prescription refills are to be handled by the office on Monday when they open.”
Caller: “But this is an emergency!”
Me: “I apologize, but I am unable to send that page.”
Caller: “You’re the doctor’s office! You have to send it to the doctor! What am I supposed to do until then? Not have sex?”
Me: *just over her attitude* “Ma’am, the doctor’s policy is that prescription refills are to be handled by the office on Monday.”
Caller: *rains down a multitude of expletives before threatening to get me fired and hangs up*
(She STILL calls almost every other month with the same issue. Friendly reminder: if you see you have two days for ANY prescription, please, please, please call it in before then and don’t wait until after hours to get a refill!)
Jerk, Medical Office, Nurses, Texas, USA | Healthy | July 28, 2018
(I am a female and a teenager. I’m temporarily on a medication that has a lot of side effects, one of the main ones being high cholesterol. I have no prior history of high cholesterol, though. I’m at the doctor’s office with my mom specifically to check that the side effects of the medication are not getting out of hand.)
Nurse: “Okay, so, looking at your results, your cholesterol is higher than it should be.” *addressing my mom* “Mom, no more serving hamburgers, and no more fast food! All that salt, red meat, and fat is really bad for teenagers, even if that’s all they want to eat.”
Mom: “Actually, we never eat fast food, and we’ve been eating pescatarian for the past few months.”
Me: “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve gone to a fast food restaurant in years.”
(The nurse looks a little flustered at this point.)
Nurse: “Well, I know how teenagers are in the summer, so try to do some walking, at least! No more laying around on the couch all day!”
Me: “I’ve actually been swimming a mile every day, and I am working as a lifeguard.”
(The nurse is starting to look annoyed, like she doesn’t believe us.)
Nurse: “Right… Well, you need to fix this, or we’re going to have to put you on medication, and you’re too young to be on cholesterol medication.”
(My mother is getting annoyed and defensive now.)
Mom: “She’s on [Medication]; that’s the whole reason we’re here! Isn’t high cholesterol one of the side effects of the medicine?”
Nurse: *glaring at my mom* “Well… Sometimes.”
Mom: “Don’t you think that might be the reason she has high cholesterol, then?”
(The nurse just walked out at that point, and we didn’t see her the rest of the visit. We mentioned it to the doctor later, but she just said, “Well, your cholesterol is kind of high.” Luckily, once I got off the medication a few months later, my cholesterol dropped back down. But seriously, at least ask questions before making patronizing assumptions about someone’s diet and exercise.)
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