(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, 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.)
Australia, Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Medical Office | Healthy | May 9, 2019
Doctor: “This next test is very dangerous for fetuses, so we need to test and make sure you’re not pregnant first.”
Me: “I’m not pregnant.”
Doctor: “Well, sometimes people don’t know that they are.”
Me: “Didn’t we just establish that I have a birth control insert in place to control my period?”
Doctor: “Those aren’t 100% reliable. We need a test.”
Me: “I’m not sexually active. At all. Ever.”
Doctor: *suddenly perplexed* “But you have an insert.”
Me: “Because without it I bled for ten weeks straight out of every twelve for two years. Because I have POCS. Which is why we just spent half this appointment reviewing my last blood results.”
Doctor: “Oh. Right. I forgot.”
Me: “So, can we move onto that test now?”
Doctor: “Which test were you thinking of?”
Me: “…”
Doctor: “…”
Me: “I’m your last appointment at the end of your shift, aren’t I?”
Doctor: *surprised* “How could you possibly know that?”
Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Ireland, Vet | Healthy | May 8, 2019
My friends found a kitten when stuck in traffic a few years ago. He had a very badly infected eye, and after adopting him we opted to have it removed; the lid was stitched shut over the socket, and apart from some minor depth perception issues it never bothered him in the slightest in the three years he lived afterward. He was famous among friends, family, and neighbours for being the one-eyed tabby cat, so it was pretty obviously gone.
We always saw the same vet for every appointment and surgery, until his last yearly checkup and vaccinations. The vet we saw was either newly-trained or inexperienced, but fairly competent at what she did because that cat was never as quiet during a check-up!
Everything was going fine; weight was optimal, good overall condition, no unusual lumps or bumps, clean ears and teeth, right eye perfect… and then she tried to open his sewn-shut eyelid.
She was very apologetic to humans and cat alike upon realising her mistake. He was used to kids poking at him, but it still makes me giggle to think of her not noticing his one distinguishing feature.
Bad Behavior, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Oregon, USA | Healthy | May 8, 2019
(While clocking into work, I unexpectedly suffer a stroke. I am a 35-year-old school bus driver and I do not take illegal drugs or drink alcohol. As the EMTs bring me into the ER, the doctor asks what my condition is.)
EMT: “She’s having a stroke.”
Doctor: “Nonsense. She’s too young. How old is she?”
EMT: “35.”
Doctor: “See, too young. Must be a drug overdose.”
EMT: “No, do the FAST test. Face; her smile is crooked. Arms; her left side is paralyzed. Speech; her words are slurred. Time; we got her here in time. Give her clot busters to break up the blood clot causing her stroke.”
Doctor: *angrily* “You’re just an EMT! I say it’s a drug overdose!”
(The EMTs leave, and the doctor turns to me, yelling.)
Doctor: “What drugs did you take?!”
Me: *slurred because the left side of my face and tongue are not working* “I can hear you fine; you don’t have to yell. I took some Nyquil last night for a cold.”
Doctor: *sarcastically* “Nyquil?! More like Meth!” *to nurse* “I need a meth overdose kit here!”
Me: *trying to yell back at him* “I. Don’t. Take. Drugs.”
Nurse: *reluctantly bringing kit* “Are you sure? She shows classic stroke signs.”
(As the doctor gets an overdose injection ready, my husband enters the room, having met and talked to the EMTs in the ambulance bay as they were leaving.)
Husband: “Stop. Don’t touch her again.”
Doctor: *sputtering* “She’s obviously a drug addict. I’m giving her the best treatment for that.”
Husband: “And you’re obviously an idiot.”
(My husband and the doctor are circling my gurney during this exchange. The doctor is trying to stay out of my husband’s reach.)
Husband: *to nurse* “Please call for an ambulance; I want her treated at [Hospital ten miles away]. Not by him.” *points at the doctor*
(The doctor practically sprints from room.)
Nurse: *to husband* “I thought you were gonna kill him. I kind of wish you had caught him.”
(The same EMTs returned. As they were loading me into the ambulance they told my husband that they told that doctor I was having a stroke, but he’s kind of a know-it-all a**hole and they were glad I would be treated somewhere else. I was greeted at the other ER by a neurologist with clot-busting drugs at the door. He says that, luckily, that delay won’t impact my recovery.)
Jerk, Patients, Pennsylvania, Pets & Animals, Philadelphia, USA, Vet | Healthy | May 8, 2019
I am a relatively new veterinarian. Often, we will get a case come in as ADR — Ain’t Doing Right — which is to say they are acting a bit off, but not always obvious what is wrong. I have an ADR older golden retriever come in with Mom and Son. They give the history: the dog has been losing weight, not eating well, lethargic, and having dark stools for a few weeks. This dog also has a history of ear problems. The last time we saw the dog was over two years ago. They have limited funds, so I try to work on a step-by-step diagnostic to try to get the most information before determining if more diagnostics are needed.
Starting with the physical exam: the dog is severely muscle wasted, lethargic — as they said — and dehydrated, and he has a new heart murmur. After discussing with Mom, we decide to start with bloodwork. It comes up with some very mild liver changes, but nothing too noteworthy. We are at the upper point of their budget, so I discuss my next recommendation of chest x-rays and what we would do depending on what we found, quoting them the costs for everything before anything is performed. They agree to the x-rays, and unfortunately, the x-rays show possible heart enlargement, but again nothing too exciting. So, they agree to try a heart medication, subcutaneous fluids, and an anti-emetic and see how the dog responds. It’s worth noting there were additional tests I would have liked to do, but I didn’t want to stretch their budget too much further.
A few days later, the dog isn’t improving on the heart meds, so I recommend an abdominal ultrasound — at a different vet — to better evaluate the gastrointestinal tract and surrounding organs. Unfortunately, the ultrasound looks like liver cancer, which I am very surprised by given how mild the blood work was.
I receive a request to contact the Father when I return to work the day after the ultrasound. I give him a call back, assuming he wants to discuss further treatment and prognosis. Boy, was I wrong.
Turns out he just wants to spend ten minutes telling me I am a crook, only in it for the money, and don’t care about animals. He continues to tell me that I took advantage of his wife and his upset son, and had them spend more money than they were willing. He rails that the dog was coming in for an ear infection, and I had them do a bunch of unnecessary tests. Any time I try to interject, either to explain my findings and recommendations as he wasn’t there, or to confirm what he thinks happened at the appointment, he simply talks over me, stating he doesn’t care what justifications I have and that “[he] is onto [my] game.” It continues until I am crying against the wall and finally have permission from the practice owner to hang up on him.
The fun part: he calls right back to have my receptionist tell me I am an a**hole. I still have to talk to his (much nicer) wife to answer her questions, and I almost can’t bring myself to do it. As of now, I refuse to discuss anything further with the Father.
Về giáo lư Đức Phật Thích Ca Mâu Ni luôn luôn khẳng định của Ngài không có phân biệt nam - nữ, đối với người nữ trong Phật giáo tuy không giữ vai tṛ quan trọng nhưng luôn luôn được xem b́nh đẳng dù bên cạnh đó là sự ràng buộc của Bát kỉnh pháp mà thời kỳ Đức Phật quy định trong đời sống Tăng đoàn . Thế giới ngày nay hoàn toàn chấp nhận " CHỈ CÓ PHẬT GIÁO LÀ H̉A B́NH VÀ B̀NH ĐẲNG NHẤT " , điều này không bao giờ có ở các tôn giáo khác .
Nhiều bạn thắc mắc hỏi tôi :
- Tại sao khi th́ gọi : Quan Thế Âm Bồ Tát .
- Khi th́ gọi : Quan Âm Bồ Tát .
Chữ Quan Âm (zh. 觀音, ja. kannon), nguyên là Quán Thế Âm nhưng do tránh chữ Thế trùng tên nhà vua Đường là Lư Thế Dân nên phải gọi là Quan Âm hoặc Quán Âm, là tên của Bồ Tát Quán Thế Âm (zh. 觀世音, sa. avalokiteśvara) để tránh phạm húy với tên vua , tại Trung Quốc, Việt Nam và các nước lân cận. Phật tử Trung Quốc thường thờ cúng Quan Âm bên cạnh các vị Bồ Tát Phổ Hiền (zh. 普賢, sa. samantabhadra), Địa Tạng (zh. 地藏, sa. kṣitigarbha) và Văn-thù-sư-lợi (zh. 文殊師利, sa. mañjuśrī). Đó là bốn vị Đại Bồ Tát của Phật giáo Trung Quốc.
Bài đọc thêm :
Quan Âm hiện thân trong mọi h́nh dạng để cứu độ chúng sinh, nhất là trong các nạn lửa, nước, quỷ dữ và đao kiếm. Phụ nữ không con cũng hay cầu Quan Âm. Quan Âm cũng hay được nhắc tới bên cạnh Phật A-di-đà (sa. amitābha) và trong kinh Diệu pháp liên hoa, phẩm 25 với tên Phổ môn, các công hạnh của Bồ Tát tŕnh bày rơ ràng và tán thán. Tại Trung Quốc và Việt Nam, Quan Âm hay được diễn tả dưới dạng nữ nhân.
Trong thần thoại, văn học bác học (như tác phẩm Tây Du Kư của Trung Quốc), văn học dân gian, hay trong kinh sách nhà Phật (ví dụ phẩm Phổ môn), th́ Quán Thế Âm Bồ Tát được xem là vị Bố Tát có thần lực nhất, chỉ sau Phật Tổ. Điều này có thể là do Quán Âm là vị Bồ Tát cứu độ chúng sanh và là Bồ Tát đặc trưng cho tinh thần của Phật giáo Đại thừa - giác tha, có nghĩa là cứu vớt và giác ngộ người khác - cho nên có thể Phật giáo Đại thừa đă nâng ngài lên tầm quan trọng như vậy, khác biệt với Phật giáo Tiểu thừa. Điều này càng làm tăng ḷng sùng kính của người theo đạo Phật đối với Quán Âm. Trong mọi ngôi chùa, thường th́ chính giữa là tượng đức Phật Tổ, hai bên là tượng Quán Thế Âm Bồ Tát và Đại Thế Chí Bồ Tát, tuy nhiên ở ngoài khuôn viên chùa hầu hết đều có tượng đức Phật Tổ hay Quán Thế Âm mà không thấy hoặc ít thấy hơn tượng của các vị Phật hay Bồ Tát khác.
Tranh tượng thường tŕnh bày Quan Âm dưới nhiều dạng khác nhau, nhưng phổ biến nhất là dạng một vị Bồ Tát ngh́n tay ngh́n mắt. Có khi Quan Âm ẵm trên tay một đứa bé, có khi một đồng tử theo hầu. Người ta cũng hay vẽ Quan Âm hiện trong mây, hoặc cưỡi rồng trên thác nước. H́nh ảnh Quan Âm đứng trên một hải đảo cứu người bị nạn cũng phổ biến, biển cả tượng trưng cho Luân hồi. Tay Quan Âm thường cầm hoa hoa sen hay b́nh nước Cam lộ.
Danh xưng Quán Thế Âm là xuất phát từ một truyền thuyết của Phật giáo, tin rằng những người tu hành đạt tới chính quả, th́ ngũ giác của họ có thể dùng chung được. Nghĩa là họ có thể dùng tai để "nh́n" thấy h́nh ảnh, dùng mắt để "nghe" thấy âm thanh, lưỡi có thể ngửi được v.v. Theo ḷng tin này, th́ danh xưng Quán Thế Âm Bồ Tát có nghĩa là : vị Bồ Tát luôn "nh́n thấy" tiếng ai oán, đau khổ trong bến mê của chúng sinh và sẵn sàng cứu giúp hay nói pháp khi cần.
Theo quan niệm Trung Quốc, Quan Âm ngự tại Phổ-đà Sơn, miền Đông Trung Quốc, đó là một trong Tứ đại danh sơn, là bốn trú xứ của bốn Đại Bồ Tát của Phật giáo Trung Quốc.
Tại Trung Quốc - đến thế kỉ 10 - Quan Âm c̣n được giữ dưới dạng nam giới, thậm chí trong hang động ở Đôn Hoàng, người ta thấy tượng Quan Âm để râu. Đến khoảng thế kỉ thứ 10 th́ Quan Âm được vẽ mặc áo trắng, có dạng nữ nhân. Có lẽ điều này xuất phát từ sự trộn lẫn giữa đạo Phật và đạo Lăo trong thời này. Một cách giải thích khác là ảnh hưởng của Mật tông (xem Tantra) trong thời ḱ này: đó là hai yếu tố Từ bi (sa. maitrī-karuṇā) và Trí huệ (sa. prajñā) được thể hiện thành hai dạng nam nữ, mỗi vị Phật hay Bồ Tát trong Mật tông đều có một "quyến thuộc" nữ nhân. Vị quyến thuộc của Quán Thế Âm được xem là vị nữ thần áo trắng Đa-la (sa. tārā), và Bạch Y Quan Âm là tên dịch nghĩa của danh từ đó. Kể từ đó quần chúng Phật tử Trung Quốc khoác cho Quan Âm áo trắng và xem như là vị Bồ Tát giúp phụ nữ hiếm muộn.
Một trong các lí do đó là đối với Phật Giáo, Phật không phân biệt nam hay nữ. Khác với các thần thoại sơ khai quan niệm các vị thần có giới tính và co sự sinh sản, Phật giáo và các tôn giáo lớn trên thế giới không cho rằng thần của họ có giới tính và sự sinh sản. Do đó việc quan niệm Quán Âm là nam hay nữ không phải là vấn đề quan trọng trong Phật giáo. Vả lại, theo phẩm Phổ môn, khi muốn cứu vớt hoặc giác ngộ cho chúng sinh, Quán Âm có thể hóa thành 32 sắc tướng[1] như Phật, Bồ Tát, Càn-thát-bà, thiện nam, tín nữ v.v tùy theo đối tượng để cứu giúp chúng sanh.
Có rất nhiều huyền thoại về Bồ Tát Quan Âm. Theo một huyền thoại Trung Quốc th́ Quan Âm là con gái thứ ba của một nhà vua. Lớn lên, mặc dù vua cha ngăn cản nhưng công chúa quyết đi tu. Cuối cùng vua nổi giận, sai đem giết nàng. Diêm vương đưa nàng vào địa ngục, ở đó công chúa biến địa ngục thành Tịnh độ, cứu giúp người hoạn nạn. Diêm Vương thả nàng ra và công chúa tái sinh lại trên núi Phổ-đà biển Đông và trở thành người cứu độ cho ngư dân. Đến khi vua cha bị bệnh nặng, nàng cắt thịt đắp lên chỗ bệnh. Nhà vua khỏi bệnh và nhớ ơn, cho tạc tượng nàng. Tương truyền rằng, v́ hiểu lầm ư của nhà vua mà người ta tạc nên bức tượng ngh́n tay ngh́n mắt, được lưu truyền đến ngày nay.
Tại Trung Quốc, các ngư dân thường cầu nguyện Quan Âm để được b́nh an trong các chuyến đi đánh cá. V́ thế có Quan Âm cũng có biệt hiệu "Quan Âm Nam Hải".
Denmark, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Patients | Healthy | May 7, 2019
(I fall outside my front door. I still can’t walk on my ankle two days later, and given my rather unfortunate history with broken bones, my parents decide to take me to the hospital to have it x-rayed. I am pretty sure it isn’t broken but better safe than sorry. I have it x-rayed and the doctor comes in with the x-ray picture. She puts it on the wall where we can all see it.)
Doctor: “I don’t think that it is broken, but it is a little hard to tell with all the previous fractures. I sent it to a specialist, just to make sure. If it is broken, we will call you tomorrow.”
Mother: “[My Name] has fortunately only had greenstick fractures so far!”
Doctor: *looks at the big, obvious nick on my bone, then looks at my mum* “No.”
(I cracked up, and the doctor pointed the old break out to my mum. I’d had another fall six months before, but I didn’t bother going to the hospital because I have my own crutches and bandages at home. I had thought it was just a sprain, but apparently not. My ankle was not broken this time, but my parents now take me to the hospital if there’s the slightest chance something is broken.)
Extra Stupid, Friends, Hospital, Non-Dialogue, Patients, UK | Healthy | May 7, 2019
My daughter is in the ICU suffering from Guillain-Barré syndrome. She is totally paralysed from her eyes to the tips of her toes, being made to breathe via a tracheotomy and a bank of syringe drivers automatically delivering an assortment of high-strength pain relief. A friend comes to visit and I warn her that my daughter is suffering from a bad headache today.
“Oh,” she says, “Have they given her anything for it?”
(We have had our cat, Fritz, since he was a tiny kitten, and he’s always seen the same vet. One day, when Fritz is around eight years old, he starts spraying urine against furniture instead of going in his box. Knowing that this could be a symptom of something serious – besides being annoying and gross – I promptly make an appointment for him to see his vet.)
Vet: “Well, we’ve examined his urine for crystals, and he doesn’t have any. That can mean only one thing.” *stares at me accusingly*
Me: *after an expectant pause* “Yes?”
Vet: “You need to get him neutered. Honestly, I don’t know why you haven’t done so yet. He’s eight years old; he should have been neutered years ago.”
Me: “But–”
Vet: “No, I’m serious. This sort of spraying activity is very common in an unneutered male, and–”
Me: “But he is neutered.”
Vet: “What?”
Me: “In fact, you’re the one who did it. We had it done right after we got him from the Humane Society. It should be in his file.”
Vet: *looks at the start of the file* “Oh.”
Me: “So, something else must be causing this behaviour, right?”
Vet: *still processing the fact that he was wrong about Fritz not being fixed* “Well… are there any new cats in the neighbourhood?”
Me: “Come to think of it, yes. Our neighbour across the back lane just got a new cat. Fritz sometimes sees him through the window and hisses at him.”
Vet: “Well, there you go.” *looks at me triumphantly*
Me: “Um, what do you mean?”
Vet: “Fritz is antagonized by that new cat. He’s spraying to assert his dominance in his own home.”
Me: “Okay, so… What do I do?”
Vet: “Do? There’s nothing you can do. Apart from moving, that is!” *laughs*
(Very helpful. I started looking for a new vet after that.)
Houston, Jerk, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, Nurses, Texas, USA | Healthy | May 6, 2019
(I’ve always had asthma, but I usually only have issues when exercising and breathing very cold air. However, I have an event where I can’t identify a trigger and the breathing problems last for a long time. I go to the emergency room, I am told it was a panic attack and I am sent home. When things don’t clear up, I go to the school clinic where they say it’s my asthma – not a spasm like I am used to, but inflammation – and give me medication. Things clear up. Then, less than a month later, I take an overseas trip. On the flight back I catch a fever and start having stomach issues. A few days later I have to switch out with my father when driving because I don’t feel like I can both drive and focus on breathing. Because it is only a little after New Year’s, my mom doesn’t think our GP can fit us in quickly enough, so we head to an emergency clinic. Our new insurance only allows us to go to one chain in the area, and it’s thirty minutes away. There isn’t a doctor available, so we confirm we are fine with seeing the head nurse. I’m used to journaling some aspects of my health due to things like adult-onset allergies, and have written specifics of the start and stop of the symptoms in a notebook, along with details from the other attack. Sometimes I also have difficulty speaking because I’m focusing on my breathing.)
Mom: “She’s been having trouble breathing. We were here a couple of days ago because she had a stomach bug.”
Nurse: “Can you describe when this started?”
Me: “Um, I noticed I had to focus to breathe. I was really aware of my breathing. It started last night, I guess? Um… I wrote it down, if it’s easier.”
(I hand her the notebook. She looks through it, but she looks skeptical.)
Nurse: “Okay, I know what’s going on here. Honey, you’re having a panic attack.”
Me: “I don’t think it’s a panic attack! It happened before around a month ago. I have asthma—“
Nurse: “The emergency guys thought that was a panic attack, too. Listen, I know you don’t want to hear this, but this is in your brain.”
(This sets me off for multiple reasons, one of which being that I DO have anxiety, but it is controlled and not the kind that results in panic attacks. Another reason is that I’ve been misdiagnosed with “stress pains” by my father’s urologist – checking for kidney stones – when we later found out I had some muscle issues in that area that were easily taken care of with physical therapy. I should also note my mother has been making some comments, but I can’t exactly remember them. She’s mostly worried.)
Me: “But the other doctor said it was asthma! I’ve had people dismiss things like this before. But when it was checked out by someone else they found something. I have anxiety, but I don’t get those! I don’t have this problem!”
Nurse: “So, you just keep going to doctors until they say what you want to hear. But I’m telling you, this is a panic attack. You said in your notes that talking is difficult, but you’re talking fine now. You seem fine. You just need to accept this. Maybe call your therapist or psychiatrist.”
(She ends the appointment. I am pretty hysterical once we return home. I have been well functioning for years and even though I don’t believe the nurse, she put the idea in my head that I wasn’t as well off as I thought. I should also note that my mom is of the generation that often writes things off as stress, and she seems to be taking the nurse’s side, or at least playing devil’s advocate, adding to my stress. I blubber to my mom and eventually my psychiatrist’s hotline. [Psychiatrist] quickly writes a prescription for anxiety, but is very firm in telling me that most of her patients don’t end up using it and that often having it in their possession helps. She also says that if I feel I need it to only take half and assess how I feel. Honestly, I don’t feel any different. Later, my mom apologizes that she helped upset me and calls our GP.)
Mom: “[Doctor] made an opening for you tomorrow… Guess what she said, though, when I told her everything that happened.”
Me: “What?”
Mom: “In her experience, asthmatics usually have panic attacks because they can’t f****** breathe.”
(My GP gave me a steroid inhaler and I started breathing better in a few days. I later went to my asthma and allergy doctor and found out that I have a new severe allergy to dust mites, something that aggravates asthma. F*** you, nurse.)
Bizarre, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, USA, Wisconsin | Healthy | May 6, 2019
(My father is experiencing severe vertigo, to the point where he can’t even crawl. We are in the ER waiting for his turn at the MRI. My dad is a large man with a beard. A doctor we don’t recognize walks into the room and stops short.)
Doctor: “Um…” *looks at his chart, then at Dad, then at my mom and me* “ Mrs. [Wrong Name]?”
Me: “I think you have the wrong room.”
Doctor: “I think you might be right; none of you look like you’re in labor right now.”
(We all laugh with him over his mistake and he leaves. Dad gets his MRI and is wheeled back in while we wait for the results. The same doctor comes in again.)
Doctor: “Let’s try this again, Mr. [Different Wrong Name]?”
Mom: “Nope.”
Doctor: “Nail through the foot?”
Me: “Wrong room again.”
Doctor: “D*** it. How…?”
(He checks the chart in his hands, then runs out and checks the room number.)
Doctor: “Somebody put the wrong room on the chart.”
(He runs off to find his patient. A while later, the ER doctors have run all the tests they can on Dad and still can’t find a cause. They’ve tentatively diagnosed him with a viral infection and have given him instructions for follow-up. Unfortunately, there is a multi-car pile-up and they suddenly get so busy they can’t spare anyone long enough to do the discharge paperwork. We do our best to stay out of the way. The same doctor comes in again, looks at his chart, then face-palms.)
Doctor: “Okay, none of you are a teenage girl with a broken pelvis! What the h***?!”
Mom: “We’re just such fun people that you’re making excuses to come hang out with us!”
Doctor: *laughing* “That must be it! Right!”
(I know he must have been frustrated, but I think he needed the comic relief as much as we did on that stressful night.)
Bizarre, Doctor/Physician, Medical Office, Minnesota, Patients, USA | Healthy | May 5, 2019
(I’ve got a new doctor and am giving them the rundown on my family history.)
Doctor: “I see on your form that you checked ‘yes’ to all the diseases we have listed. They all run in your family?”
Me: “Yes. I have a very large family and at least one of them has or had at least one of those diseases.”
Doctor: “Even [rare cancer]?”
Me: “Grandma died of it.”
Doctor: “Huh. Who in your family had [disease]?”
Me: “Two of my great aunts on my dad’s side, and my uncle on my mother’s side.”
Doctor: “And your family’s history of cancer… says ‘all’?”
Me: “Doctors never really believe me, but all the cancers you have listed there? Yeah, when I add up my mother’s side of the family and my father’s side, it’s all there.”
Doctor: *open-mouthed shock* “Wow.”
Me: “I get that reaction from doctors a lot.”
(For reference, my grandmother was one of nine kids, my other grandmother was one of eleven, and all of their kids had at least five kids. It’s a big family, and they’ve all had some kind of major medical issue in the past, and most of them work in the medical field. I just tell doctors to check everything when they ask what runs in the family. It saves time.)
Bad Behavior, Blood Donation, Jerk, Nurses, USA | Healthy | May 4, 2019
(I’m a frequent blood donor. I have large, easy veins, don’t flinch or get queasy around blood or needles, and am known at the clinic, so I often get the least experienced workers. Sometimes the new, nervous ones aren’t the best, but I figure practice makes perfect, and their mistakes — like not being gentle or having a bad angle on the needle — don’t bother me. Usually.)
Tech: “Hi. I’m [Tech] and I’m going to be drawing your blood today.” *continues with the standard script and questions* “Have you donated blood with us before?”
Me: “A few dozen times; I’m here every eight weeks on the dot. How long have you been at [Clinic]?”
Tech: “Today is my first day!”
Me: “Well, congratulations! I’ll make your job really easy, then. I’m well hydrated and have nice, big veins for you.”
(The tech starts prepping the bag and needle, muttering the steps to herself. She somehow manages to poke herself with the needle.)
Tech: “Oh, shoot, I need to go and dispose of this and reglove.”
Me: “No worries. I’m in no rush. Take your time.”
(The tech comes back, looking slightly pale and panicked. I try to smile at her, but she just seems to be getting progressively more flustered. She tries to stick my vein and misses.)
Tech: “Oh, I’m so sorry. Can I try again?”
Me: *smiling again* “Of course, take a few deep breaths and try again.”
(The tech tries again. And again. Then, she drops the needle and has to get another other. The whole time, I’m trying to calm her down as she seems to be upset with herself.)
Me: “Now, I know I’m not officially trained, but I’ve had a lot of needles stuck in me. Slow down a bit. Breath deeply a few times. The vein is right there. You can do this.”
Tech: *mutters quietly but rapidly under her breath while getting paler*
(She tries to stick me three more times, somehow missing my vein every time. Her hands are shaking and she appears on the verge of tears.)
Me: “Hey, it’s okay. This is a tough job. Why don’t we call over one of the more experienced nurses?”
Tech: “No, no, no, I can do this. Really.”
(She proceeds to stick me five more times, at worse and worse angles. I’m slowly losing patience with her. She’s now trying to stick me with a needle that is practically perpendicular to my arm. She still hasn’t been able to actually hit my vein. What is usually a twenty-minute deal has taken almost an hour.)
Me: “Okay. Get a nurse now. They can help you out.”
Tech: “No!”
(She then rather aggressively jams the needle into my arm, hitting a nerve and nowhere near a vein. I swear like a sailor and rip the needle out of my arm.)
Me: “Listen up. I have been beyond patient here. Get me a d*** nurse. Now.”
Tech: “They’re all busy right now!”
Me: “Okay, fine. F*** it.”
(I then insert the needle into my own vein in one go. The tech looks stunned.)
Me: “Hook up the collection bag and then get me a nurse and get the h*** away from me.”
Tech: *in a shrill voice* “You can’t do that! You can’t! You can’t!”
(The head nurse hears the commotion and comes over.)
Nurse: “What is going on over here? [My Name], why are you still here? I checked you in an hour ago!”
Me: “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, [Nurse].”
California, Health & Body, Hospital, Parents/Guardians, Patients, USA | Healthy | May 3, 2019
(My boyfriend and I are woken up by a phone call at six am from his 15-year-old sister saying, “Something is wrong with Dad; you need to get to the hospital.” We live 100 miles away, so I tell my boyfriend to go now and I will pack a few things and meet him up there. When I get up there I find out he has hydrocephalus, or water on the brain, which is a fairly rare disorder that typically happens to infants and people over 60. My boyfriend’s father is 47. It causes fluid to build up and put pressure on the brain. They release the pressure by removing parts of his skull. The next day, a nurse is in with him and my boyfriend’s mom comes out to talk to us.)
Mom: “They think he’s going to be okay, but right now we either have to sit with him or they have to restrain him. Otherwise, he might hurt himself; he can’t remember what is going on. Can you go sit with him for a while? I need a break.”
(We agree and go in.)
Boyfriend: “Hi, Dad!”
Dad: “Hi… Where am I?”
Boyfriend: “You’re in the hospital; you’re going to be fine. You just got sick and the doctors are going to help you.”
Dad: “Well, that was mighty inconvenient of me.”
Boyfriend: *laughing* “Just a touch.”
(My boyfriend’s father’s head starts to dip and his eyes slide to the side and become unfocused. Then, his head comes back up and he sees us and smiles.)
Dad: “Hi, guys! What are you doing here? Wait. Where am I?”
Boyfriend: *trying not to cry* “Hi, Dad. You’re in the hospital; you’re going to be fine.”
Dad: *laughing* “Well, that was mighty inconvenient of me.”
(Then, his head starts to dip. My boyfriend and I look at each other, both of us trying not to cry.)
Dad: “Hi, guys! What are you doing here?”
(I step over to his bed and take his hand.)
Me: “Hi, Dad. You had a small accident you’re going to be fine.”
(We stayed with him for a couple of hours having the same conversation. I had seen short-term memory loss on TV but thought it was an exaggeration. It’s not. Thankfully, he really was, overall, okay.)
Chile, Dentist, Jerk, Santiago | Healthy | May 3, 2019
(I have recently changed my dentist. I’m 30 and I have never had any cavities before, but I go to a consult since I notice something weird in two of my teeth. I suspect they are cavities but they don’t hurt or bother me at all, and I don’t know what cavities look like.)
Dentist: “You have four cavities! What a disaster!”
Me: “Well, it’s the first four in 30 years.”
Dentist: “This looks so bad! We need x-rays!”
Me: “I’d have come earlier but they didn’t hurt and they look very small, so it took me a while to notice them.”
Dentist: “Four cavities! This is insane! Are you bulimic?”
Me: “No.”
Dentist: “You sure? It clearly looks like bulimia.”
Me: “I’m not bulimic. I’m not alcohol abusive, either; I barely ever throw up.”
(The doctor doesn’t believe me, and sends me to do the x-rays. I come back to have the cavities fixed.)
Dentist: “Are you sure you don’t throw up? This amount of cavities is not normal!”
(By then, I feel filthy. I don’t throw up and I brush my teeth, but the big deal she is making makes it look like I am her worst case in years. She fixes my cavities, which are all very superficial, and I go home pretty worried and thinking about buying a different mouthwash, toothbrush, and toothpaste. My boyfriend is having some friends over and I tell them what happened.)
Friend: “Four in your life? I get four cavities removed every time I go to the dentist!”
Boyfriend: “You can’t see them because they are in the back of my mouth, but I’ve had several big fixes.”
(The following day, two of my four fixes fall out while I’m brushing my teeth. I go to have them re-fixed. The dentist keeps telling me to suck it up, still implying I have an eating disorder. The remaining two fall out within a month, but this time I go to a different professional. I’m already expecting to get yelled at for my poor dental condition.)
Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Kentucky, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | May 3, 2019
(I wear contacts, and I’ve had problems seeing when using my contacts for a while now. It has finally gotten to the point where I can’t stand it and go to the eye doctor to get my prescription checked. A student does the actual exam and finds my new prescription, and I can already tell a difference. She leaves and the actual doctor comes in.)
Doctor: *takes a look at the paperwork the student completed* “Well, it looks like your prescription stayed the same, so you can just order some more of the same contacts.”
Me: *shocked* “Really? I’ve been having double vision and I can’t focus my eyes at a close range very well.”
Doctor: “Nope, it’s the same. Are you sure you’re having problems?”
Me: “Yes, I’ve also been getting headaches from straining my eyes to focus.”
Doctor: *repeats the exam TWICE to find my eye prescription* “Well, I found the same thing she did, which is a slight decrease in prescription in your right eye. This is very unusual since eyesight doesn’t normally get better with time, so I think your prescription should stay the same.”
(We go back and forth a few times; I keep insisting that I need a change. It’s very unusual for me to advocate for myself this much, but I really can’t take the eye strain anymore so I KNOW I can’t stay with the same prescription. He finally agrees to let me try the lower prescription on a trial and come back in two weeks to see how I like it. The trial contacts have to be ordered by the receptionist, and I notice the doctor go around and point to the screen and tell her to “order these instead,” but I don’t think anything of it. I go back in a week when they come in. The receptionist hands me the trial contacts and I have a look at the prescription number.)
Me: *confused and irritated look on my face*
Receptionist: “Is something wrong? You look confused.”
Me: “These are supposed to be trial contacts for a new prescription. Why are they the same as my current contacts?”
Receptionist: *takes the contacts back, looks at her computer and back at the contacts, and starts getting flustered* “Um, I don’t know. Let me look at this…”
(She eventually got a different doctor in the practice to come to look at my file. The other doctor took one look at my file, immediately went to get me the correct contacts — which DIDN’T have to be ordered — and told me to come back and see her instead of the first doctor. At my appointment with her, she told me that my prescription should actually be even lower than the first doctor prescribed. The only conclusion I can come up with is that the first doctor didn’t believe me and was trying to trick me into staying with the same prescription, twice! [Doctor], why was it so hard for you to believe I couldn’t see?!)
Awesome, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Nurses, USA | Healthy | May 2, 2019
(I have a serious phobia of needles due to a traumatic incident when I was a child, and because of this I always need someone present with me to cope with the situation. I am due to have very minor surgery on my arm, but I will need two needles during the operation. My boyfriend schedules off to go with me, but on the day of, he is called into work. I can’t cancel or I will incur a large fee, so I decide to tough it out and go. When I am called into the room, the nurse starts asking me questions, and I let her know that I have a phobia of needles. As soon as she leaves the room I enter into hysterics. I end up calling a friend, and he calms me down by the time the doctor returns with the nurse. They keep my friend on speaker, the nurse holds my hand, and they all keep me laughing so much I don’t have time to cry. These are just some of my favorite moments from the hour-long procedure.)
Doctor: “You’re telling me you’re getting birth control, but you’re afraid of a little prick?”
(Another moment…)
Friend: “You still alive over there?”
Me: “I sure hope so. Is everything going all right?”
Doctor: “Oh, you’ll know something’s wrong when you hear me walk out the door saying, ‘I am not dealing with that paperwork today.’”
(Another moment…)
Me: *to nurse* “Is it really bad?”
Nurse: “Don’t ask me, I’m not looking! Why do you think I need to hold your hand?!”
(Another moment…)
Me: “Thank you so much for being so nice to me. I know, as an adult, I should be able to handle this all by now. I know it’s not logical; I just work myself up and go into hysterics.”
Doctor: “And while you were in the room with me, you didn’t cry once. Sometimes it’s not your fault that you’re scared. Sometimes it’s the fault of the people around you for not knowing how to make you feel safe.”
(I can’t thank those three enough for not only making a terrible experience into a great memory, but for helping relieve some of the self-hatred I had due to my phobia. If I ever need a shot again, I know exactly where I want to go!)
Doctor/Physician, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, USA | Healthy | May 2, 2019
A standard practice in the US is for pharmacies to call physicians for refills on prescriptions, not patients. If there are issues with getting refills, the physician’s office will contact the patient for a visit.
I’m currently seeing a new physician who I’m not happy with, but the waitlist is two months long to see a different doctor. I’ve found that this doctor doesn’t listen and doesn’t seem to take mental health issues seriously. She tried to switch my medications — without telling me — despite the fact that I’ve been stable on this medication for over five years. She also accused me of faking foot pain, despite evidence that I had an untreated break in my foot two years ago which didn’t heal well, and tried to convince me to get unnecessarily invasive tests at a specialist clinic for no reason. She also made me get tested for Hepatitis and HIV because I have tattoos — which are all over a year old — even though I just had those tests done two months prior as part of my regular checkup with my old doctor, which was in my medical record.
I’m on a mental health medication known for terrible withdrawal symptoms after just one missed dose. It’s very important that I take it every single day. I notice that I am out of refills, so I notify my pharmacy and they send out a refill request. It is denied because I still have a month left. I have the pharmacy send in another refill request two weeks later. The doctor doesn’t respond. The pharmacy contacts me, saying there were some issues and they can’t get a refill. I call my doctor’s office. They say they will have my doctor send in a refill that day. Still no refill and no request for an appointment. I call again two days later, still nothing. I now have less than a week left. I call every day for the rest of the week, still nothing. On Saturday morning, I’m tired and scared because I’m out of medication and don’t have any refills. I decide to go to the ER because it’s the closest place open on a weekend; there are two urgent care centers but one isn’t open on weekends and the other doesn’t have someone who can write prescriptions working that day.
I go into the ER and explain my issue. I’m clearly not having an emergency, but thankfully there are no other patients that morning and they’re able to write me a one-week prescription and send me on my way in under thirty minutes. While I’m at the ER, I’m clearly frustrated but grateful for the lovely doctor and nurse who are assisting me. The nurse gives me a giant hug and a chocolate muffin from the break room, and both the doctor and the nurse file a report against my doctor.
Monday morning at eight am, I get a call from my doctor’s boss. She saw on my chart that I had an ER visit for the sole purpose of getting a medication refill and wanted to know why. I explained the situation, and also mentioned being worried that I couldn’t afford an ER bill because emergency room visits aren’t covered under my insurance if they’re not considered an actual emergency, such as a broken limb.
A few days later, I check my insurance claims to see what my ER bill is going to be, expecting a bill of at least $2,000 out-of-pocket. My entire ER bill has been comped, as well as my past visits with the terrible doctor. I end up paying $0 for the entire debacle. I also get a three-month refill instead of one month, and it is also comped instead of the usual $45 per month.
I have since found a new physician, but at the same clinic because they went so far above and beyond to correct one doctor’s mistakes.
Bad Behavior, Doctor/Physician, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, USA | Healthy | May 2, 2019
When I was very young, my family lived in a rural area where we only had access to one clinic that took our health insurance. While we could have driven into the city — about three hours — if there had ever been a situation that the clinic couldn’t handle or if we’d needed a special consultation, for the most part, my parents stuck with the local clinic. The clinic was very small; I don’t believe that there were ever more than four doctors on staff, and most of them were not there full time. Although the clinic tried to hire doctors who practiced family medicine — so they could see all ages of patients — there was one pediatrician on staff, and because of this, my brother and I were just automatically sent to him, as were most kids in our area. He often rushed through appointments and was impatient when my parents had questions, although since my brother and I were generally healthy kids, our family didn’t have too many issues with him… until I was four.
When I was four, I developed a strange rash on my neck, back, and legs. My mom took me to the clinic, where the pediatrician took one look and said that I had ringworm. He prescribed a salve, an oral antifungal medication, and an antifungal shampoo, since the rash on my neck was near my hairline and ringworm can cause permanent hair loss if it develops on your scalp. I was on the medication for over a month before the symptoms subsided, and we thought that it was over… until I had another rash a few months after that. And a few months after that. The doctor kept prescribing the same regime every time. I was miserable because the oral medication messed up my stomach, and my parents were driving themselves crazy trying to sanitize anything that I ever came into contact with to hopefully prevent a recurrence and to avoid my brother getting infected.
This happened about four times over the course of two years; although my parents asked if there could possibly be something else going on, since ringworm is not supposed to be a chronic condition, the doctor blew them off every time and essentially told them not to question his authority, since he’d gone to school for this and they hadn’t. He was very condescending, and when my parents asked for advice, he’d just repeat stuff about hygiene and washing up. My parents had actually just decided to take me into the city for a second opinion if I had another rash when the usual doctor stepped down and we got a new one.
My parents brought my brother and me in for our flu shots, and the new doctor noticed the beginnings of the rash on my arm. He asked my parents about it, and they told him that they weren’t interested in putting me on the same antifungals since they clearly weren’t working and were just making me miserable. He was confused and asked why I’d be on antifungals for eczema. A couple of quick tests confirmed that he was correct, that I definitely didn’t have ringworm, and instead of multiple infections, I had one condition that flared up every few months. I got a prescription for an anti-inflammatory cream, and the doctor suggested that my mom change our laundry detergent, and then the rash was handled. But that wasn’t the end of the story.
The new doctor checked my file and confirmed that the old doctor hadn’t done any testing to diagnose me the first time — no black-light test, no biopsies or cultures, nothing — and had just marked that it visually presented as ringworm. Each subsequent time I came in, the old doctor stuck to that rather than reassess. After that, my parents requested a copy of my file, and then saw the notes that the old doctor had made, which basically amounted to him complaining about working with dirty, poor, uneducated families who couldn’t keep their kids clean. He hadn’t bothered to do any further testing when my parents told him that they’d complied with all his suggestions for how to make sure that I didn’t catch “ringworm” again, because he just assumed that anyone who lived in our rural area must be a dumb, ignorant hick who couldn’t really value hygiene.
My parents were furious. We later learned that he had been asked to step down from his position in the clinic precisely because he’d had this attitude with most of the families who came into the clinic, and had said as much to one of the nurses, not realizing that a patient had overheard. One of the things he must not have realized about smaller communities like ours is that word spreads like wildfire. Dozens of families were suddenly requesting records for their children, and people found multiple stories like mine where the pediatrician diagnosed without testing, or made assumptions about families that impacted the way he handled their treatment. There was a community-wide effort to send complaints to the state medical board. I know that there was at least one successful lawsuit against him, and last I heard, that pediatrician’s license to practice medicine was revoked.
Meanwhile, our new doctor treated my eczema, saved my brother’s life during an allergic reaction, became a hero in our community for doing house calls, and has received state-wide recognition for being willing to go above and beyond for his patients.
Diễn Đàn Người Việt Hải Ngoại. Tự do ngôn luận, an toàn và uy tín. V́ một tương lai tươi đẹp cho các thế hệ Việt Nam hăy ghé thăm chúng tôi, hăy tâm sự với chúng tôi mỗi ngày, mỗi giờ và mỗi giây phút có thể. VietBF.Com Xin cám ơn các bạn, chúc tất cả các bạn vui vẻ và gặp nhiều may mắn.
Welcome to Vietnamese American Community, Vietnamese European, Canadian, Australian Forum, Vietnamese Overseas Forum. Freedom of speech, safety and prestige. For a beautiful future for Vietnamese generations, please visit us, talk to us every day, every hour and every moment possible. VietBF.Com Thank you all and good luck.
News
Library
Technology
Giải Trí
Portals
Tin Sốt
Home
