During my freshman year in high school, my science teacher assigned us to interview people in the community about how they use science in their careers. Although I don’t remember most of the people I spoke with, I can tell you that I spent meaningful time with a local community pharmacist who changed my life.
What I saw was a man who loved his career and truly cared for his patients. In an instant, I knew that I wanted to become a pharmacist, and I never wavered from that goal throughout high school.
Knowing what you want to be when you grow up at age 14 is unusual, but it is very liberating. I simply had to work backwards to figure out how to achieve my goal of becoming a pharmacist.
After high school, I chose to attend Ohio Northern University (ONU) because it had a unique pharmacy program. Rather than attending college for 2 years and then applying to the pharmacy program, ONU students were admitted to the College of Pharmacy from day one.
Although it was expensive, being in pharmacy school from day one and avoiding the risk of rejection made it worthwhile for me.
In college, I spent a lot of time in the library. Although the classwork was difficult, I did well with one exception: organic chemistry.
I did fail organic chemistry—a notorious “weed out” course—but I successfully retook the class over the summer and graduated on time with the rest of my classmates. Failing a course is a difficult stumbling block, but I stood strong and persevered.
Today, I’m thankful for the wonderful pharmacy profession for so many reasons.
First, I’m thankful that community pharmacists are the health care professionals most accessible to the public. If my local pharmacist wasn’t accessible to me, then I likely would have taken a different career path.
Second, I’m proud of the work we pharmacists do, the diversity of our career options, and the relationships we share with our patients and fellow health care providers.
Pharmacy is a profession that makes a real difference in people’s lives. It certainly has made all the difference in mine.
Canada, Dentist, Ontario, Thunder Bay | Healthy | December 24, 2017
(I’ve never liked going to the dentist, but this incident really made me hate it more than usual. It’s just a normal annual teeth cleaning, uncomfortable but bearable, but when the hygienist was using the polish, a chunk of it broke off and went down my throat. I started choking and the hygienist had to stop the cleaning for a moment to let me clear my airway.)
Hygienist: “Quit being such a drama queen.”
(I was furious, and made sure to tell my mom about it when I was done. I don’t know if she told the dentist about what happened, but I never saw that hygienist again.)
Hospital, Issaquah, USA, Washington | Healthy | December 23, 2017
(After our son is born
Nurse: *to my wife* “And I’m just confirming that the baby is covered by your insurance for at least 21 days?”
Wife: “Yes, that’s correct.”
(Later
Doctor #1 : “Hi, Mom & Dad! Congratulations! I’m [Doctor] and just here to look over the little guy. Oh, he’s a cutie!” *examines the baby for five minutes* “Well, everything looks good. Congratulations again!”
(Even later
Doctor #2 : “Hello! I’m [Doctor #2 ]. I’m here to examine [something else] with your son. Congratulations, by the way! Oh, he’s a handsome guy!” *examines baby for five minutes* “Well, everything looks good. He seems to be doing great!”
(Later still
Doctor #3 : “He’s doing great, but his levels aren’t quite where we would really like them to be. I’m going to keep you guys here for another night to monitor him.”
(Months later we start seeing bills from pediatricians whose names we didn’t recognize at all for “neonatal exam” and other odd things. Two years later our daughter is born in the same hospital.)
Nurse: *to my wife* “And I’m just confirming that the baby is covered by your insurance for at least 21 days?”
Wife: “No, I’m on a self-funded plan so that isn’t the case. We’ll be putting her on the state-based Medicaid plan with her brother and coverage will be retroactive to her birthday.”
(Later, as in less than 24 hours after the birth
Nurse: “Looks like you guys get to go home today! Just so you know, her levels aren’t quite where we would want them to be so you’ll need to set up an appointment with your primary care pediatrician to have her checked within the next day. Congratulations again!”
(The next day at our pediatrician’s office
Pediatrician: “Why in the world would they discharge you with her levels like this? This is very concerning to me. She needed another night in the hospital. Did any pediatricians at the hospital look at her?”
Wife: “Just one. Weird, because last time we saw like four or five; they’d just pop in and we’d never see them again.”
Pediatrician: “These numbers are not good. We need to get her to the ER today.”
(Off to the ER (at a different hospital) and our new-born daughter had to stay the night for some urgent treatment. She’s fine now but the lesson is learned that we mention Medicaid to the hospital with extreme caution.)
Crazy Requests, Louisiana, Office, USA | Healthy | December 22, 2017
(I work in home health and we get calls like this a lot surprisingly
Me: “Thank you for calling [Agency]. This is [My Name]; how may I help you?”
Caller: “Hi, I’m a nurse, and my [family member] needs care, but they only want me to take care of them. Is there any way we could go through you and have only me take care of them?”
Me: “Yes, if you fill out an application and we hire you. But you would have to see more patients in a week than just your [family member].”
Caller: “Oh, no, I just want to take care of [family member] and no one else. I have a job already. I would just need to be paid for my [family member]. How would they be able to request me after being admitted to your agency?”
Me: “The only way is to be hired here to see patients.”
Caller: “But I have a job already; I don’t need to be hired. And I can’t see other patients, only my [family member].”
Me: “So you want to use our facility, our resources and supplies, see no one else, AND you want us to pay you?”
Caller: “Yes, exactly.”
Me: “Sorry, we don’t do that here. Try [Other Home Health Agency].”
Arkansas, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | December 22, 2017
(Over the last two years I’ve had two breast lumps, which were both biopsied, and have been suffering pain, from what I suspect is a third, over the last 5 months. The pain used to only bother me when I tried to wear a bra with an underwire, but over the last 2 months it has gotten to the point where it just hurts all the time. My primary care physician does indeed find a lump in the area and has ordered a diagnostic ultrasound of the area, which thankfully I get scheduled within the week.)
Sonographer: *going though the normal medical questions* “Do you smoke?”
Me: “No.”
Sonographer: “Have you ever been pregnant?”
Me: “No.”
Sonographer: “Have you had previous breast surgeries or biopsies?”
Me: “Yes, both on the left. One was in May of 2015 and was excisional, and one just eight months ago and was a fine needle aspiration.”
Sonographer: “Have you ever been pregnant?”
Me: *doubting her listening skills* “…I believe you just asked me that. No, I have never been pregnant.”
Sonographer: “Is there a lump?”
Me: “Yes. [Doctor] found it based on the location of my pain over the last several months.”
Sonographer: “And when was your appointment with her?”
Me: “Last week on the 25th.”
(The sonographer quietly finishes her paperwork and does the ultrasound. After completing the imaging she steps out of the room to speak to the radiologist, which takes approximately 20 minutes. I spend the entire time hoping that this time is merely a cyst and I can have it drained to relieve my pain and be done with it. Finally the sonographer comes back into the room, sans radiologist.)
Sonographer: “So, it’s indicated to be benign. We’re going to schedule a follow up for you in six months.”
Me: *I’m slightly taken aback by both the abruptness and that they apparently expect me to suffer increasing pain for another six months* “Wait, what? Even though I’m in pain and haven’t been able to wear a real bra in several months?”
Sonographer: “We’ll give you a pamphlet on pain management. Do you want to set your appointment up now?”
(By this point I’m both ticked off and nearing tears, as I feel I’m just being dismissed because I’m young, and am not being given any information.)
Me: “Can you at least tell me anything about the spot? What are the dimensions? Is it a cyst like [Doctor] said it might be? Or is it solid? What do the edges look like?”
Sonographer: *looks like I’ve just deeply offended her by asking questions about my own health* “It’s like what you had last time. But it’s teeny tiny. You just have very dense tissue around it so it feels bigger. So do you want to set up your appointment now?”
(After several rounds of asking her the same questions and her not providing the answers in exact terms but pushing for the follow-up appointment, she finally told me that the lump was about 8mm, which wasn’t as large as one of the previous ones, but was not “teeny tiny,” and at least had edges that are the indicator for it being benign. She pushed the pain management pamphlet on me, got my follow-up set up, and practically shoved me out the door. I relayed all my concerns about how little was addressed to my primary doctor, and she at least reviewed my results and gave a referral to a surgeon for me to move forward. The most annoying part? The sonographer apparently put down that I’d only been presenting the issue for a week, which was when I received confirmation of a lump, not that it’d been going on for several months as I’d told her. Listening is an active skill, everyone!)
Connecticut, Health & Body, Office, USA | Healthy | December 22, 2017
(Due to living through some really messed up stuff, I have an incredibly high pain tolerance, and avoid asking for help if it’s something I can do myself. Combine that with the fact that I am a massive klutz, and you get someone that consistently injures themselves (frequently at work), fixes it as best they can, and just shrugs it off as nothing. I have once again managed to hurt myself, resulting in about a two-inch long gash on my forearm. It’s not too deep, but it needs stitches. I can and have stitched myself up from similar injuries in the past, using sewing needles and fishing line. I am in the middle of doing this, when a coworker I will refer to as “Work Mom” walks into my office.)
Work Mom: “Hey, [My Name], my computer is having iss— WHAT THE H*** ARE YOU DOING?!”
(I do not stop stitching as I speak with her.)
Me: “Oh, I just got a little cut, and am sewing myself back up. I’ll be right as rain in a minute. So what’s going on with your computer?”
Work Mom: “No. No, no, no. How are you not screaming? You are coming with me to the walk-in right now!”
Me: *stops stitching* “I really don’t think that’s necessary. I’ve done this before, and I’ll be fine.”
Work Mom: “I’m calling medical, then you are going to the doctor. You do not have a choice in this, you crazy b****!”
(I give up, as arguing at this point is futile. I walk down the hall to medical, and sit in a chair after speaking to the onsite medical person. As Work Mom’s back is turned, I finish stitching up the cut, and cut the needle free. Work Mom gets permission to take me knowing I won’t go by myself, and we go to the walk-in clinic. We wait for a bit, and get called into a room. The doctor walks in about 10 minutes later.)
Doctor: “So, what’re you here for today?”
Me: “I think it’s a bit of an overrea—”
Work Mom: “This crazy person got a cut, and decided that it would be easiest to stitch it up herself!”
Doctor: “…what? You’re kidding me.”
Me: “No. I’ve done this before, and had no trouble.” *I hold out my arm for the doctor to inspect*
Doctor: “Jesus, woman! Didn’t that hurt?”
Me: “Eh.”
Doctor: “I’ll have to remove this… What did you use?”
Me: “Fishing line.”
Doctor: *mutters something under his breath* “I’ll get the proper tools for this.”
Me: *knowing I will never get another chance to ask this* “So, how’s my stitching?”
Doctor: “What? Did you just really ask me that?”
Me: “Yeah, come on. I’m curious.” *I have a massive s***-eating grin on my face at this point*
Doctor: *mumbles something*
Me: “Sorry, I didn’t catch that?”
Doctor: *exasperated* “You’re stitching is fine, but seriously, don’t do this again!”
Health & Body, Office, Ohio, USA | Healthy | December 21, 2017
(The entire staff is having an end of the fall quarter meeting in a large conference room. Since it’s flu season, there’s frequently the sound of coughing and sniffling because management made this meeting mandatory and refuses to let anyone call off sick. I’m sitting to the side, and the director has just called the meeting to start when one employee from the very back walks forward, crossing the entire very large room. Everyone falls silent to watch her. She props open one of the doors halfway (which just leads to a hallway) and then walks all the way back to her seat, pass dozens of coworkers, some of which are clearly feverish.)
Employee: “I just HAD to open a door! I couldn’t stand the thought of being stuck inside a closed room with all these sick people! I don’t want to get sick myself!”
(She was sitting next to another coworker who was surrounded by a pile of used tissues. As if opening a door part-way in a giant conference room halts the transmission of viruses and bacteria.)
(I go to my local pharmacy to drop off a prescription. As most pharmacies are, it is very busy with a full waiting area and they tell me there will be a wait for my medication. I browse the store for a while until I hear my name called over the intercom, and then get back in line to pick up the prescription. An elderly man who is also waiting for a prescription gets up from his chair and approaches me.)
Patient: “Are you Veronica? They just called a Veronica; are you her?”
(They definitely did not just call anyone named Veronica, and my name sounds nothing like Veronica, although they both do end in the letter ‘A.’)
Me: “Uh, no, sir, I’m not Veronica but my prescription is ready.”
Patient: “Well, if you’re not Veronica then your prescription is not ready so get out of line and wait like the rest of us!”
Me: “Sir, they called my name and I am going to pick up my prescription. Even if they didn’t I’m not cutting anyone in line or making anyone else wait longer, so please don’t shout at me.”
(At this point he started telling the whole waiting room that I was not Veronica and I was trying to steal Veronica’s prescription, but he was actually speaking very calmly so no one really paid him any mind. They called me up to the desk and I got my medication, and let them know the man seemed slightly agitated and might need some help. As I was leaving I heard him arguing with the pharmacy technician, saying “But she’s NOT VERONICA!”)
Medical Office, Scotland, UK | Healthy | December 21, 2017
(I am working as a receptionist in a GP surgery. As part of my job, I have to take orders for and print out repeat prescriptions, as well as note down any special requests to pass on to the doctors. Patients are aware of this and will often try to bypass the 48-hour wait time between ordering and collection by asking me to “just print it,” apparently unaware that I need a doctor to sign it first. On this day, a late-30ish man approaches my desk
Patient: “Hi, I need a prescription for [opiate].”
Me: “You usually need a doctor’s appointment for that; do you want me to book you in in two day’s time?”
Patient: “No, I’ve run out. It should be on as a repeat prescription.”
(I’m suspicious, because this drug rarely if ever is put on repeat. Nevertheless, I check his file. Not only is it not down on his repeats, but there is a pop-up note saying DO NOT SUPPLY THIS PATIENT WITH [OPIATE] DUE TO HISTORY OF ABUSE.)
Me: *trying to be tactful* “Well, sir, it looks like the doctor has taken you off of this medication. If you like, I can give you a phone appointment this afternoon?
Patient: *suddenly aggressive* “DO YOU WANT ME TO SUFFER? IS THAT IT?”
Me: “No, sir. I simply can’t give you the prescription without a doctor’s approval.”
Patient: “PRINT IT OUT!”
Me: *refusing to show that I’m feeling intimidated* “I can’t. And even if I could, I’d need a doctor to sign it for me, and they’re all in with patients.”
Patient: “Well, you’d better f****** interrupt one, shouldn’t you, you stupid little b****?”
Me: “No doctor is going to sign this prescription right now. I’m asking you once to stop using abusive language and allow me to try to help, or I will have to ask you to leave.”
Patient: “Well then, you f****** sign it!”
Me: “I’m not a doctor.”
Patient: “Just sign it!”
Me: “You’re asking me to break the law and put my signature to your prescription.”
Patient: “Yes.”
Me: “You want me to put my name to a prescription which, if caught, will land me in jail, cause legal trouble to the doctors here, and probably not even get you the medicine you want?”
Patient: “I NEED MY [OPIATE]!”
Me: “I’m not going to do that. Either take one of the appointments I’ve offered you, or leave.”
Patient: “WELL, MAYBE I’LL F****** MAKE YOU DO IT!”
(Thankful for the plastic barrier between us, I pressed the security button, and he was escorted from the building by two of my other coworkers, cursing the whole time.)
Whether You’re A Brother Or Whether You’re A Mother You Should Learn CPR
Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, USA, Vancouver | Healthy | December 20, 2017
I am sitting in the waiting room of my doctor’s office waiting to be called back. They have a TV playing some health network with short tips and tricks to being healthy.
One of the tips was to perform CPR to the beat of the song ‘Staying Alive’ by the Bee Gees. I laugh out loud in the quiet waiting room imagining passing out only to be revived by someone singing that song.
I got quite a few weird looks before I was able to get my giggles under control. But I guess I won’t forget the beat if I ever have to perform CPR now because I will want them to be ‘Staying Alive’
Hospital, USA, Washington DC | Healthy | December 20, 2017
(I have been suffering from a cough and breathing problems for a few days. Thinking it is just a passing cold, I don’t worry too much about it until one night I notice that my neck is noticeably swollen. Concerned, I go to my mother, who is a nurse, and ask her opinion. She decides to take me to the ER due to the swelling and my issues with breathing. After arriving, I am taken to a room to wait for the doctor to evaluate me.)
Nurse: “I hear you’re having some trouble breathing.”
Me: “Yes, I’ve been coughing, and I thought it was just a cold, but now my neck is swollen.”
Nurse: “Well, let’s just listen to your chest for a minute.”
(She listens to me breathe for a few moments, makes a note on her chart, and leaves. Several minutes later, the attending physician enters the room.)
Doctor: “So you’re having issues with breathing?”
Me: “Yes. I told the nurse I thought I had a cough, but now my neck is swollen and my mom was concerned it could be something else.”
Doctor: “Well, let’s just listen to your chest.”
(He also checks my lungs, the same as the nurse.)
Doctor: “Well, you seem to have some labored breathing, so we’re going to give you a breathing treatment to help with that.”
Me: “What about the swelling?”
Doctor: “I don’t really see any swelling.”
(My mother and I both stare at the doctor in disbelief. Full disclosure, I am overweight, and because of that, I do have somewhat of a ‘double-chin’. However, this is far beyond double-chin territory; it was noticeable enough for both me and my nurse mother to be concerned.)
Mom: “Her neck is obviously swollen. This isn’t normal. I know what normal is for her, and this isn’t it.”
Doctor: *dismissing her* “I’ll be back with the breathing treatment.”
(My mother and I are completely irritated by his behavior. My mom, in a stroke of genius, pulls out her phone. Not a week before, we had been on vacation, and had taken many pictures; my mom pulls up a picture of me, facing forward, that shows how I usually look. When the doctor returns, she shows him this picture as evidence that my neck does not normally look as it does now.)
Doctor: *taken aback* “Oh, your neck IS swollen! Let’s get you in for an MRI!”
(Thankfully, I just had bronchitis. However, neither my mother nor I were pleased that one of my symptoms was ignored, simply because the doctor assumed that it was irrelevant!)
Hospital, Texas, USA | Healthy | December 19, 2017
(For whatever reason, several of my friends have been taking turns in the hospital recently. My husband and I are bringing food to the third one in the past month, at a different hospital than the others, who is admitted with an extremely damaged hand after an accident. His wife meets us at the door and walks back with us to the room, but becomes lost in the process. The hallways have letter flags on them, but she is unable to locate the one we need. Fortunately, nearby staff take turns stepping in to help.)
Friend’s Wife: “Oh, no. I don’t know where ‘J’ hall is…”
Nurse #1 : *on another hall and out of view* “Take a right at ‘H’!”
Friend’s Wife: “Thanks!”
(We get to the end of ‘H’ and become lost again.)
Friend’s Wife: “I don’t see ‘J’ hall. Did we go the right way?”
Nurse #2 : *passing behind us* “Through the double doors.”
Husband: “They’re good.”
(We walk through the doors and pass a few doctors.)
Friend’s Wife: “Now we just need room J123.”
Doctor: “Just there on your left.”
Me: “Why can’t every hospital be this easy to navigate? It’s like we have a GPS with us.”
You Keep Using That Word. I Do Not Think It Means What You Think It Means
Medical Office, Michigan, USA | Healthy | December 19, 2017
(I am waiting for an appointment in a medical office. The office shares a waiting room with a medical laboratory. Those there for the lab take a number, while those seeing a specialist have appointments. Several other patients, including the rude patient, are waiting to be seen.)
Rude Patient: “I was here first! I am number 34. You need to see me now!”
Medical Person #1 : “Ma’am, he has a lower number than you do. I’ve told you twice already, I can’t skip you forward in the line. We see people in the order they show up, and this man was here before you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have a lower number than you do.”
Rude Patient: “I have another appointment before [time half an hour from now]. You need to see me right now.”
Medical Person #1 : “Ma’am, we see people in the order of their numbers. You will be seen when it is your turn,and not before then. If you need to leave before that, you can go, and come back when you have more time. I can’t guarantee how soon you’d be seen.”
([Medical Person #1 ] goes through the door with [Patient #1 ].)
Rude Patient: “She is very rude!”
(Rude patient pulls open the sliding window where the receptionist for the medical office sits, and launches into her complaint.)
Rude Patient: “That woman is very rude! It is my turn, and she’s seeing other people. You need to make sure that I am next!”
Receptionist: “Ma’am, I’ve already explained this to you. I have nothing to do with the lab. I am the receptionist for [Doctor #1 ] and [Doctor #2 ]. The lab is a separate thing, and I have no control over that. But people at the lab are always seen in order of their numbers.”
Rude Patient: “You! What is your number?”
Me: “I have an appointment to see [Doctor #1 ]. I don’t have a number.”
Rude Patient: “You! What is your number?”
Patient #2 : “I am number 36.” *points to the man next to her* “He is number 37.”
(While rude patient keeps muttering about how rude [Medical Person #1 ] is, [Medical Person #2 ] comes out wearing scrubs but limping out the door in a cast. She is immediately accosted by the rude patient.)
Rude Patient: “The other girl is very rude! I had an appointment downstairs, and they sent me to get lab work done, but that woman is seeing everyone else first and not letting me go. I have another appointment!”
([Medical Person #2 ] spends several minutes confirming that everyone else had lower numbers than the rude patient, and explaining that people are always seen in order in the lab. While this happens, another patient comes out.)
Rude Patient: “You! What was your number?”
Patient #3 : “Um, 30, I think? I threw it out as soon as they called me.”
Medical Person #2 : “It sounds like you’re probably next, ma’am. You can either wait here for her to be ready for you, or you can go to any of our locations later today if you have somewhere else you need to be.”
Rude Patient: “But she is so rude!”
Me: “Ma’am, she wasn’t rude. She was frustrated. From what everyone has said, everyone who has been seen before you has had a lower number than you. That means they were here before you. And she said that she had already explained that she couldn’t jump you ahead of other people in the line, which means you were probably demanding that before I showed up. You just don’t like being told that. Frankly, you need to either sit down and wait your turn, or go to your other appointment and then either come back here or go to one of the other lab locations when you have the time and won’t yell at people for doing their job. But the fact that you didn’t get your way doesn’t make someone else rude.”
Rude Patient: “That’s very rude of you. You need to respect your elders!”
(I shake my head and go back to my book.)
Medical Person #1 : “Number 33?… If there’s no number 33, number 34?”
Rude Woman: “Finally!”
(I really don’t think the rude patient understood the meaning of the word rude.)
Dentist, Florida, USA | Healthy | December 19, 2017
(I have to get all four wisdom teeth removed just before starting my senior year of high school, and one of them gives me trouble. When we cut the small stitches out, we find the space where that tooth had been still has a little bit open, but don’t think it warrants another stitch. My dentist is explaining safety rules for food and drinks, considering the small hole in my gums.)
Dentist: “Don’t chew on that side if you can avoid it; don’t have anything with alcohol—”
Me: “Well, there goes my entire high school career.”
Dentist, Florida, USA | Healthy | December 19, 2017
(I have to get all four wisdom teeth removed just before starting my senior year of high school, and one of them gives me trouble. When we cut the small stitches out, we find the space where that tooth had been still has a little bit open, but don’t think it warrants another stitch. My dentist is explaining safety rules for food and drinks, considering the small hole in my gums.)
Dentist: “Don’t chew on that side if you can avoid it; don’t have anything with alcohol—”
Me: “Well, there goes my entire high school career.”
Arizona, Medical Office, Phoenix, USA | Healthy | December 18, 2017
(I am diagnosed with a rare neurological condition and go to the Mayo Clinic. My medication doses have to be adjusted continuously for several months and I am now on a combination of both the regular and extended release for the best effect. Since Mayo does not accept my insurance and I had to pay for their evaluation out of pocket, I am now transferring to an in-network neurologist for follow-up care.)
Me: “So I’m on [Medication] and I take 1000 mg extended and 500 regular in the morning, and then 1000 mg extended and 250 mg regular in the evening.”
Doctor: “Oh, that’s too complicated. I’m just going to write your prescription for 1000 mg twice a day.”
Me: “Excuse me?”
Doctor: “I don’t know why you ended up on such a complicated dose.”
Me: “Because the neurologist at Mayo Clinic carefully adjusted my dose over several months, and we determined that this was what worked best to control my symptoms. You have all the records from Mayo.”
Doctor: “Yes, but it’ll be so much easier for you to just take 1000 mg twice a day.”
Arizona, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | December 17, 2017
(I’m headed to a doctor’s appointment that I scheduled two weeks prior. The appointment time is 3:30 and that was confirmed twice while talking to the receptionist, and I was left a voicemail the day before my appointment again confirming my 3:30 check in. I always like to arrive early because I work in the medical field myself and I know how important it is to be in time. I show up at a very prompt 3:10.)
Me: “Hi, I’m early but I’m here to check in for my 3:30 appointment.”
Receptionist: *very blankly* “Name.”
Me: *says name*
Receptionist: *SIGH* “Let me ask the doctor is she can see you because you’re really late.”
(The receptionist walks away before I can say anything. She comes back and rolls her eyes.)
Receptionist: “I guess she’ll see you, but you’re late.”
Me: “I’m twenty minutes early. My appointment is 3:30.”
Receptionist: “No, you’re twenty minutes late. Fill this out so she can take you back.”
(It’s not worth the fight, so I sit down and finish the paperwork. Soon after, the door swings open and the doctor calls my name.)
Doctor: “Hurry back. I need to rush because you’re very late and now my schedule is behind.”
Me: “My appointment was 3:30. I’m early.”
Doctor: “That’s not what my schedule says. You’re holding up my day.”
Me: “I have a voicemail even confirming my time!”
Doctor: *rolls eyes* “Sure you do. Hurry up.”
(I’m so annoyed with being called a liar I play the voicemail on speaker.)
Doctor: “Oh. They did say to check in at 3:30. But you’re still late; now hurry up.”
(I was so annoyed but the wait on this appointment was forever and I just quickly did the appointment. She was terrible and I never went back after that.)
Hospital, Idaho, USA | Healthy | December 16, 2017
(I’ve just had major surgery on my leg and have been taken to my room. I begin to feel chilled, so I press the call button. The nurse who responds covered me with an additional blanket, but after a short time I am so cold I was shivering, so another blanket is added. Within about an hour two more blankets are added but I am colder than ever. Then the charge nurse comes in on her rounds.)
Me: *violently shivering* “C-c-cold!”
Nurse: *having just taken my vitals* “You’re practically hypothermic. Let me check your leg and then I’ll see what else we can do to warm you up.” *checks my leg* “Oh. How long has your leg been packed in ice?!”
Me: “Ice?”
(Neither of us knew, so it must have been done before I awoke from anesthesia which means it had been there for at quite some time. Each blanket that was added sealed in the cold that much more, so of course I was freezing! The ice was quickly removed and with five or six blankets covering me I warmed up pretty fast.)
Food & Drink, Medical Office, Pennsylvania, USA, Williamsport | Healthy | December 15, 2017
(I’ve been a diabetic for over 42 years, so I’m a bit “old school” when it comes to caring for my diabetes. Still, I must be doing something right, as my control has been fairly tight up until recently. Because of new issues, I go to see an endocrinologist and am discussing my diet with her. And as dismayed as I am to say it, I’m about 60 lbs overweight.)
Doctor: “How many carbs do you eat per meal?”
Me: “Oh, three, sometimes four. If I’m feeling particularly crazy, I’ll have up to five, but that’s my limit.”
Doctor: *looking at me in horror* “How many?!”
Me: “Three or four.”
Doctor: “Grams?”
Me: *holding my arms wide* “Do I look like a mouse? I’m talking about the diabetic exchange, doc. Fifteen grams is one carb, and I eat three or four carbs per meal, with two carbs being a snack.”
Doctor: “Oh, God! I thought you were eating only three or four grams per meal.”
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