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.
Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, Oregon, USA | | Healthy | June 28, 2019
(I receive a message from my primary physician.)
Doctor #1 : “Your vitamin D is low, but all your other lab results are fine.”
(Later, I go to a doctor who specializes in some of my chronic illnesses. She looks at the lab results herself.)
Doctor #2 : “Your vitamin D is very low, and you’re borderline anemic.”
Me: “What?! My other doctor didn’t tell me that!”
Doctor #2 : “Well, you’re technically in the normal range for children, but just barely. You’re almost 18 and you’re way below the threshold for adults. Plus, with your chronic illness, you need even more iron than the average person. This isn’t nearly enough. Let’s get you started on an iron supplement.”
(Just because the numbers are within range — by a single point! — it doesn’t mean they’re anywhere close to ideal, doctors.)
Assisted Living, Lazy/Unhelpful, Nurses, Patients, Revolting, The Netherlands | | Healthy | June 26, 2019
(I work as a trainee in a care home. I’ve been there just three days. This is my second traineeship, which will teach me specific nursing skills, like inserting a bladder catheter, stoma care, wound care, etc. It’s afternoon and I’m working with two coworkers who aren’t happy with me being there. Normally, they’d sit in the staffroom telling trainees what to do, but since this is my third day, I haven’t got a clue as to what to do exactly, which means that they need to show me. An alarm call comes in from the apartment of a married couple. We go there to see what’s wrong. When we get through the front door, the smell of faeces hits us. Going through to the living room the smell gets worse. We find the husband, who has Alzheimer’s, nearly in tears. He points us to the bathroom where we find his wife, sitting on a stool, covered from her shoulders to her knees in faeces. She has managed to partly undress and it’s immediately clear that her stoma bag has exploded.)
(And they both just leave. I can’t believe what I’ve just witnessed. When the woman sees them leave and sees me, she starts bawling her eyes out. I know she hasn’t had her stoma for long and she’s only seen me once, this morning, when I asked her if I could watch her stoma care and help her. She knows I haven’t handled anything like this before.)
Me: “All right, let’s get you undressed.”
(I peek around the door and ask her husband to grab five towels, two bin-bags, and underwear for his wife. To my amazement, he comes back with exactly what I asked for a short while later.)
Patient: “You never did this before; you can’t handle this. It’s a mess!”
Me: “Yes, it is, but we’ll do this together. You’ll see; it’ll be fine.”
(I dress up in gloves and a plastic apron and begin to undress her, throwing the clothes on the ground near the shower, but far enough from her that she won’t stand on the faeces. I give her the showerhead and start peeling off the stoma plate. This, together with the stoma bag, goes into one of the bin-bags. By now, she starts feeling a bit better. The smell still isn’t nice, but since a lot of faeces is being washed down the drain, it’s getting better. Her husband asks if everything is all right. I tell him yes and ask him to make a cup of tea.)
Patient: *crying* “Why did they leave? Why did they leave you here?”
Me: “I don’t know, but I’ll get you sorted. Your husband is making tea, so when you’re dressed your cuppa is waiting.”
Patient: “Thank you for doing this.”
Me: “Yeah, well, I want this to be my job, so it’s no big deal.”
(When she’s clean and feeling better, I transfer her to the toilet so she can get dressed. Normally, I’d do this on the stool, but since it’s not entirely clean in that area I have to transfer her. Meanwhile, I rinse out her clothes and put them in the other bin-bag, to go into the washing. When she’s dressed in her underwear, I help her with her stoma materials. I walk her to the bedroom to get dressed further and clean the shower as best as I can without the proper materials. She’s still wobbly from her experience, so I go and check on the husband. He’s boiled the water, but then forgot what he was supposed to be doing. I make tea for both of them and, when I’ve written in their patient book what has happened, I go and check on them again.)
Patient: “Thank you, dear, for everything you’ve done. Now, go get the signature you need for that stoma care. You’ve done great, considering they’ve left you while they knew you hadn’t handled anything like this before.”
Me: “Thank you. I’ll try to talk to them about this. It’s horrible that they left you like that. They shouldn’t have.”
Patient: “I know, but I’m glad you were there.”
(I take her clothes to the laundry room and the coworker there washes them immediately. I find one of the cleaners, tell them what happened, and ask them if they have time to clean the bathroom. They agree. I then walk to the staffroom where I know both coworkers and the manager will be for their tea break.)
Me: *slamming my workbook on the table before both coworkers* “Sign here and there.”
Coworker #1 : *looks at where I’m pointing* “I can’t sign this; I haven’t seen you doing stoma care.”
Me: “Of course, you haven’t. You both walked out on the patient while she was covered in faeces from her shoulders to her knees. If I remember correctly your words were, ‘I’m not gonna deal with this,’ and you left her there, in tears, covered in faeces.”
Me: “You did the exact same thing. You walked out on her, too.”
Manager: “What? You left a patient who needed help? [My Name], can I see the book?”
(I give her the book and she signs without hesitating.)
Manager: “You go home early today; you’ve done enough. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” *points to the two coworkers* “You two, in my office. Now!”
(The next day, I’m a little scared to go back, as I know leaving a patient who needs care is a really bad thing to do. When I get to the staffroom, both coworkers who should’ve been working aren’t there.)
Manager: *when everyone else is present* “I just want to tell you guys that [Coworker #1 ] and [Coworker #2 ] have been placed on unpaid leave for six weeks due to negligence. They’ve left [Patient] with our trainee when she badly needed help. This is inexcusable. You all can understand that, right? Now, [My Name], can you come to my office later to fill out a few witness statements about what happened yesterday?”
(I agreed and we all went to work. I was inundated with questions from other coworkers about what had happened and they were all appalled by my responses. After I’d filled out the witness statements, a couple of weeks went by where we heard nothing more of either coworker. After four weeks, we found out one had been let go as she’d had a warning about negligence before, and the other found another care home to work with.)
Assisted Living, Lazy/Unhelpful, Nurses, Patients, Revolting, The Netherlands | | Healthy | June 26, 2019
(I work as a trainee in a care home. I’ve been there just three days. This is my second traineeship, which will teach me specific nursing skills, like inserting a bladder catheter, stoma care, wound care, etc. It’s afternoon and I’m working with two coworkers who aren’t happy with me being there. Normally, they’d sit in the staffroom telling trainees what to do, but since this is my third day, I haven’t got a clue as to what to do exactly, which means that they need to show me. An alarm call comes in from the apartment of a married couple. We go there to see what’s wrong. When we get through the front door, the smell of faeces hits us. Going through to the living room the smell gets worse. We find the husband, who has Alzheimer’s, nearly in tears. He points us to the bathroom where we find his wife, sitting on a stool, covered from her shoulders to her knees in faeces. She has managed to partly undress and it’s immediately clear that her stoma bag has exploded.)
(And they both just leave. I can’t believe what I’ve just witnessed. When the woman sees them leave and sees me, she starts bawling her eyes out. I know she hasn’t had her stoma for long and she’s only seen me once, this morning, when I asked her if I could watch her stoma care and help her. She knows I haven’t handled anything like this before.)
Me: “All right, let’s get you undressed.”
(I peek around the door and ask her husband to grab five towels, two bin-bags, and underwear for his wife. To my amazement, he comes back with exactly what I asked for a short while later.)
Patient: “You never did this before; you can’t handle this. It’s a mess!”
Me: “Yes, it is, but we’ll do this together. You’ll see; it’ll be fine.”
(I dress up in gloves and a plastic apron and begin to undress her, throwing the clothes on the ground near the shower, but far enough from her that she won’t stand on the faeces. I give her the showerhead and start peeling off the stoma plate. This, together with the stoma bag, goes into one of the bin-bags. By now, she starts feeling a bit better. The smell still isn’t nice, but since a lot of faeces is being washed down the drain, it’s getting better. Her husband asks if everything is all right. I tell him yes and ask him to make a cup of tea.)
Patient: *crying* “Why did they leave? Why did they leave you here?”
Me: “I don’t know, but I’ll get you sorted. Your husband is making tea, so when you’re dressed your cuppa is waiting.”
Patient: “Thank you for doing this.”
Me: “Yeah, well, I want this to be my job, so it’s no big deal.”
(When she’s clean and feeling better, I transfer her to the toilet so she can get dressed. Normally, I’d do this on the stool, but since it’s not entirely clean in that area I have to transfer her. Meanwhile, I rinse out her clothes and put them in the other bin-bag, to go into the washing. When she’s dressed in her underwear, I help her with her stoma materials. I walk her to the bedroom to get dressed further and clean the shower as best as I can without the proper materials. She’s still wobbly from her experience, so I go and check on the husband. He’s boiled the water, but then forgot what he was supposed to be doing. I make tea for both of them and, when I’ve written in their patient book what has happened, I go and check on them again.)
Patient: “Thank you, dear, for everything you’ve done. Now, go get the signature you need for that stoma care. You’ve done great, considering they’ve left you while they knew you hadn’t handled anything like this before.”
Me: “Thank you. I’ll try to talk to them about this. It’s horrible that they left you like that. They shouldn’t have.”
Patient: “I know, but I’m glad you were there.”
(I take her clothes to the laundry room and the coworker there washes them immediately. I find one of the cleaners, tell them what happened, and ask them if they have time to clean the bathroom. They agree. I then walk to the staffroom where I know both coworkers and the manager will be for their tea break.)
Me: *slamming my workbook on the table before both coworkers* “Sign here and there.”
Coworker #1 : *looks at where I’m pointing* “I can’t sign this; I haven’t seen you doing stoma care.”
Me: “Of course, you haven’t. You both walked out on the patient while she was covered in faeces from her shoulders to her knees. If I remember correctly your words were, ‘I’m not gonna deal with this,’ and you left her there, in tears, covered in faeces.”
Me: “You did the exact same thing. You walked out on her, too.”
Manager: “What? You left a patient who needed help? [My Name], can I see the book?”
(I give her the book and she signs without hesitating.)
Manager: “You go home early today; you’ve done enough. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” *points to the two coworkers* “You two, in my office. Now!”
(The next day, I’m a little scared to go back, as I know leaving a patient who needs care is a really bad thing to do. When I get to the staffroom, both coworkers who should’ve been working aren’t there.)
Manager: *when everyone else is present* “I just want to tell you guys that [Coworker #1 ] and [Coworker #2 ] have been placed on unpaid leave for six weeks due to negligence. They’ve left [Patient] with our trainee when she badly needed help. This is inexcusable. You all can understand that, right? Now, [My Name], can you come to my office later to fill out a few witness statements about what happened yesterday?”
(I agreed and we all went to work. I was inundated with questions from other coworkers about what had happened and they were all appalled by my responses. After I’d filled out the witness statements, a couple of weeks went by where we heard nothing more of either coworker. After four weeks, we found out one had been let go as she’d had a warning about negligence before, and the other found another care home to work with.)
Doctor/Physician, England, Hospital, Jerk, UK | | Healthy | June 24, 2019
My best friend had surgery in 2017 to remove an ovarian cyst that had gone undiagnosed until it was large enough to cause a protrusion in her abdomen. The surgery to remove it was initially successful and after a couple of days, she returned home, only to be back in hospital three days later with a truly life-threatening infection.
Over a week later, the infection has been largely treated and my friend is moved out of intensive care and onto a ward, still on a cocktail of medicines that leave her somewhat delirious. I’m visiting her along with her mother and two sisters when a doctor enters and begins telling my friend how her infection was the most severe he’d ever seen where the patient recovered. He asks if he can have her permission to write a paper about it. My friend at this point isn’t even with it enough to tell us her surname, and all four of us rather sternly tell the doctor to ask again when she is properly recovered. Embarrassed, he leaves.
I get that doctors deal with this stuff a lot and it’s normal to them, but seriously? She almost died and spent ten days in the ICU, and you think the day she gets back out onto a ward she’s going to be bouncing around the room eager to grant permission for your paper?
My friend made a full recovery and did eventually grant the doctor permission. She told me he said that in blood cultures a score of 10 is an infection, and hers came back with a score of 1,174.
Bosses & Owners, Health & Body, Jackson, Jerk, Mississippi, Salon, USA | | Healthy | June 23, 2019
(For my first job, I work at a tanning salon. I have had epilepsy my whole life. During the interview, I explain everything to the general manager and the procedures in case I have one at work. Well, the inevitable happens and I have a seizure when it is just me and one coworker, with a store full of customers. One of the customers calls 911 and I wake up surrounded by the fire department. Naturally, I have to take off for a few days to recover. This is the conversation between me and the general manager as soon as I return for my next shift.)
GM: “[My Name], I need to see you in my office.”
(We sit down and she hands me a piece of paper.)
GM: “You need to sign this incident report.”
(I look over it carefully and sign it at the bottom. She looks at me sort of sideways and then continues.)
GM: “Why didn’t you just not come into work that day?”
Me: “Well, it’s not like I woke up and knew it was going to happen. I only have about ten minutes to one hour of warning. And I did call you almost exactly an hour before and told you how I was feeling. You told me to stay.”
GM: “Yeah, I didn’t think it was actually going to happen.”
Me: “Um, okay? Then what do you want me to do about that?”
GM: “You need to get a hold of yourself. I can’t have you seizing out in front of everybody and scaring away my customers. Did you skip your medicine or something?”
(I start to choke up and begin to cry because I can’t believe she just said something so rude, as if I can just control my disability whenever I feel like it.)
Me: “No, I didn’t skip my medicine. These things happen like clockwork every single month regardless, and you were fully aware of that at my very first interview. If I could control it like you seem to think I can, I would never have another seizure again. I can’t believe you just said something like that to me.”
GM: “Oh, don’t be so sensitive. Dry your tears and go clock in.”
(I just looked at her before I walked out of her office. This created a permanent wedge between me and the general manager. Neither one of us ever spoke of it again, and I didn’t have another seizure at work for the rest of the time I worked there. I eventually quit on the spot one day because I couldn’t handle the way she talked down to me like I was some insubordinate. Who would really say something like that to someone?!)
Bigotry, Illinois, Medical Office, Nurses, USA | | Healthy | June 22, 2019
(I’m at a popular glasses chain for my yearly check. I’ve been going to this chain and the attached eye doctor for many years. Note: I am Latina. My last name usually gives this away. I’m very light-skinned, though.)
Nurse: “Okay, so you’re [My First and Last Name].”
Me: “Yes.”
Nurse: “[Address]? [Phone Number]? Still correct?”
Me: “Yes.”
Nurse: “Single or married?”
Me: “Single.”
(I notice the nurse peer at the screen, turn around and study me, and then squint at the screen again.)
Me: “Is everything okay?”
Nurse: “Whoever entered you in the computer listed you as ‘Hispanic/Latina.’ Don’t worry; I’ll fix it.”
Me: “I am Latina.”
Nurse: “Seriously? But you’re so light!”
Me: “We do come in all shades, you know.”
Nurse: “Wow!”
(The rest of the exam proceeded normally. I know my area doesn’t have a huge Latino/a population but come on now
Hospital, Parents/Guardians, Patients, Silly, USA, Wisconsin | | Healthy | June 21, 2019
(My mother is hearing-impaired. She’s not totally deaf, but if she’s not wearing her hearing aids, you need to speak very loudly and slowly for her to understand you. She’s been this way since she was five years old due to a case of German measles damaging her auditory nerves. Fast forward twenty years. She is pregnant with me and my brother — I’m female. She knows she is having twins because her doctor heard two heartbeats, but because this is before sonograms are a thing, she does not know what the genders of the babies are. She just assumes that they will both be the same, and she and my dad choose two girl names and two boy names. She goes into labor, but things are just not progressing. Her doctor decides she needs a C-section. This is also in the days before epidurals are commonly used, so they knock her out for the operation, having her remove her hearing aids so they won’t get lost. The babies are delivered and my mom goes to recovery. As she starts to wake up, the nurse comes up to her. Note that my mom is still not wearing her hearing aids.
Nurse: “[Something unintelligible].”
Still-Groggy Mom: “Huh?”
Nurse: “Waa waaa wa waa waa wa waaa…”
Yet Still Groggy Mom: “What?”
Nurse: “YOU HAVE A BOY AND A GIRL!”
Mom: “Oh, they can’t be mine.”
(Rejected before she even saw me! Thank heaven it was the drugs talking!)
Extra Stupid, Hospital, Nurses, USA, Wisconsin | | Healthy | June 20, 2019
(I have been experiencing undiagnosed depression and severe anxiety caused by a serious accident while I was in the military. As such, after being let go from my job for something I didn’t do, I end up getting admitted into the psych ward at the Veterans hospital. Before admittance, you have to get your blood drawn to test for drugs.)
Screening Nurse: “Okay, hon, this is the nurse that is going to take your blood.”
(The nurse tries to insert the needle in the crook of my arm and misses.)
Nurse: “Oh, darn! Let me try again.”
(He tries again and misses.)
Nurse: “Let me try on the top of your wrist.”
Me: “Umm… Isn’t that going to be harder? I am a very easy stick; maybe you should try on my right arm.”
Nurse: “No, I can get the vein on the top of your wrist.”
Me: “Um, okay.”
(The nurse proceeded to miss twice more on the top of my wrist. The third try, he wiggled the needle around to try and catch the vein — don’t ask me why he thought that would work — and as a last-ditch effort and with no warning, he went vertical with the needle and rammed it straight down into my wrist. I darn near hauled off and punched him, but I settled for cursing. Miraculously, he did manage to get blood… which lead to another problem. He never put the cap on the end of the tube, so instead of the blood stopping at the end of the tube, it just spewed all over me, the chair, the nurse, and the floor. Once we stopped all that nonsense and got my test results back, which were clean, I finally was admitted into the psych ward where I had to explain to the nurses that, no, I did not try and cut my arm off, their nurse just sucks at blood draws, and that’s why my arm was covered in bandages. Welcome to the VA, folks.)
Oh, That’s Not Water Breaking; That’s The Interns Crying
College & University, Doctor/Physician, Non-Dialogue, Pranks, Teachers, USA | | Healthy | June 19, 2019
I studied medical laboratory science in college. As we were studying hormones, we came to hCG, which is the hormone tested for on a pregnancy test. The professor was explaining how, at the very end of a pregnancy, hCG levels can drop off, yielding a negative pregnancy test on an obviously pregnant patient.
Then, he added this gem: “You can really freak out nervous medical interns by calling them up and telling them the pregnancy test on a very pregnant woman is negative. I’m not saying I’ve done it, but I’m not saying I haven’t.”
Cedar Rapids, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Iowa, Language & Words, Non-Dialogue, USA | | Healthy | June 18, 2019
I worked as a nurse in a coronary care unit. Medical professionals have their own language, and sometimes forget the average person doesn’t speak “medicalese.” One of my patients was newly diagnosed with myocardial infarction, the medical term for a heart attack. I accompanied his doctor in as he talked to the patient, telling him he had a myocardial infarction.
After we left the room, I asked the doctor if he thought the patient understood what he was told. He assured me he did. When I returned to the patient’s room a few minutes later, I asked him if he understood what the doctor told him.
He said, “Oh, yes. I’m so relieved. I thought I’d had a heart attack.”
Cedar Rapids, Great Stuff, Hospital, Iowa, Non-Dialogue, Patients, Pranks, Revolting, USA | | Healthy | June 17, 2019
My friend is a great prankster. He was in the hospital one time and the nurse came in to leave a specimen cup so they could collect a urine sample. My friend had received apricot nectar with his breakfast. After the nurse left, he poured the apricot nectar into the specimen cup. When the nurse returned, she looked at and commented that it looked pretty bad. Picking up the cup, my friend drank it down, commenting, “Well, I’ll run it through again!”
Hospital, Non-Dialogue, Revolting, UK | | Healthy | June 16, 2019
I stayed in the hospital for three nights after giving birth to my son. When my partner came to take me home, we couldn’t find my shoes anywhere. We searched almost every place I had been whilst in the hospital.
My trainers were found by a nurse, under the bed in the birthing room.
I was feeling miserable at bedtime, and by 2:00 am I realized that it was an allergic reaction. My knees, elbows, neck, and spine were all swelling up and had gotten red, hot, itchy, and painful. When my six-year-old son woke up around 6:30 am, I grabbed some bananas and granola bars for him to eat in the car and headed to the hospital.
By noon, I had had an IV of medication for almost four hours and was starting to feel better, while my son was bored and very hungry. The nurse served my lunch, and even though I was feeling better and getting hungry, I just grabbed the tiny, Barbie-sized coffee and gave the rest to my long-suffering son, who really needed it. About ten minutes later, the nurse came back, saw me with the coffee cup and my son with the rest of the lunch, and left.
About ten minutes after that, she came back claiming that someone had been released after the lunch orders were placed and that there was an extra lunch, so I could have it “for my son” if I wanted.
The emergency was swamped that day — I think my nurse had about 15 people she was looking after — and for her to take the time to make that gesture meant a lot for me, especially since I didn’t get released until about 5:00 pm. I still don’t know if there really was an extra lunch on the floor, or if she ordered it special, and I wouldn’t have starved not being able to eat until later, but I was definitely more comfortable and happy with a lunch in me, and I am super grateful for the nurses in our local hospital!
Bad Behavior, Comeuppance, Doctor/Physician, Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, USA | | Healthy | June 14, 2019
I have been having menstrual problems for my entire life, which is later discovered to be a cyst on my ovary. About four years before it was discovered, though, I would bleed constantly. It was never fresh blood, though; it was old and black. I would go months without a period, and then months with one.
A doctor sent me to a gynecologist to make sure it wasn’t cancer causing my problems, as I have a family history for various kinds. I was 26, but I took my mom with me for support. The female gynecologist sent my mom out of the room to ask me medical questions, one of which was if I was sexually active.
I told her I wasn’t, because I hadn’t had sex. I’m used to people acting like they don’t believe me, so when she gave me this look, I just nodded to confirm that I was telling the truth. A few questions later, she asked if I had done any “self-stimulation” that may have resulted in a scratch or a tear that would explain the bleeding.
I told her no, because there was always too much blood and it grossed me out. She became exasperated and yelled, “YOU HAVE TO BE HONEST WITH ME!” in a very hostile voice.
I was angry, but I wanted to get this over with, so I just accepted it. Mom came back in and sat in the room on the other side of a curtain, so she couldn’t see any of what happened next.
This doctor was going out of her way to be rough in her examination. I was very sure it shouldn’t be as painful as it was. At one point, she used what she called a probe to hold me open and use a light for a better view, which I felt was fair, but it opened me very wide to the point of near pain. When I hissed and told her it was very uncomfortable, she looked at me like I was an idiot and told me, “You need to calm down. It’s smaller than a man’s penis.”
Now I was offended and angry, but I didn’t want to yell at this woman and upset my mom by “being rude,” since she couldn’t see what was going on. I tried to ignore it, and after another minute or so, I felt the need to fart.
I waited to see if she’d move away for something, but she didn’t. Before I could tell her, though, she realized I was tensing up but not why, and she leaned in to me and, in a very aggressive whisper, said, “If you do not relax right now, I will end this exam and make you come back, and I don’t think you want that.”
So, I nodded and said, “Okay. I’ll relax.”
When she turned away and came back to continue her examination, I finally relaxed and just let it go right in her face. My mom heard and yelled at me for it, and I just told her, “No, no. She was turned away; it’s fine.”
The doctor said nothing about it, but the exam concluded quickly and with no pain, like someone had flipped a switch on the whole thing. I later found out, while telling another female friend about this incident, that this particular gynecologist was known for being horrible to patients, and she thanked me for doing what she wished she had.
Jerk, Medical Office, Nurses, Ohio, USA | | Healthy | June 14, 2019
(I’ve suffered from chronic pain for ten years now. I’m on opioid medications and have been for five years. I have to go to my doctor every month for the prescriptions since they’re strictly controlled. One visit, I get a new nurse. She sees my reason for the visit but apparently ignores my medical history.)
Nurse: “So, you’re after a refill for [current medication]?”
Me: “Yeah, I need to get a refill before I go out of town next week.”
Nurse: “You know that’s an opioid, right?”
Me: “I’d hope so; I’ve been on it for years now.”
(She looks at my weight on my vitals. Because of my condition, I’m on the lighter side.)
Nurse: “Well, I’m telling the doctor not to. You’re obviously an addict.”
Me: “What?!”
Nurse: “You’re just on it for the high! Whoever started you on it is an idiot!”
Me: “[Doctor] put me on it!”
Nurse: “Well, I’m taking you off of it! It’s for your own good!”
(She storms out. I’m in too much shock to say or do much of anything. A few minutes later, my doctor comes in.)
Doctor: “So, the nurse suggested I cut you off of [medication].”
Me: “Yeah, she yelled at me and called me an addict.”
Doctor: “I told her that unless she knew a way to fix [condition], you were staying on it. She said you didn’t look like you had anything, but we’re going to talk to her about jumping to conclusions. So, usual pharmacy?”
(While I’ve seen her at that practice since, I’ve never had to deal with her again.)
Canada, Dentist, Extra Stupid, Ontario, Patients | | Healthy | June 13, 2019
(I work as a dental assistant. After doing some fillings for a patient, I walk her out to the front desk and she stops in the bathroom first. I notice our receptionist is busy with a call, and the dentist doesn’t have another patient for about 15 minutes, so I decide I’ll help out at the front desk and see the last patient out. She comes out of the bathroom and we have this conversation at the desk.)
Patient: “The dentist put a black filling in my mouth!”
Me: “I’m sorry, but there isn’t any such thing as a black filling. I can assure you [Doctor] only placed white composite fillings that match your tooth shade.”
Patient: “It’s right here! It’s black!” *points to a tooth on the opposite side from what we worked on*
Me: “Ma’am, [Doctor] placed fillings on the other side of your mouth. He didn’t touch the tooth you’re pointing to. What your pointing to is a silver amalgam filling that has aged and is no longer shiny, causing it to appear almost black.”
Patient: “No. This was not here before!”
Me: “Ma’am, where is your mouth frozen?”
Patient: *points to the side opposite of tooth she is complaining about*
Me: “That’s the side [Doctor] worked on, not the tooth you notice the dark spot on.”
Patient: “No, he did both. Go check with him or the nurse that was working with him.”
Me: “I am the assistant that was working with him. I’m just helping our receptionist, as she was busy with a call when you first came to the desk, and I can assure you that we did not work on that tooth or that side of your mouth. That is an old silver filling. If it bothers you, we can have the dentist look at it and see if he can replace it, but we’ll need to book you another appointment for that.”
Patient: “No, it’s fine.” *pays and leaves*
Receptionist: “I’m so glad that happened to you and not me.”
Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Jerk, New York, Nurses, USA | | Healthy | June 13, 2019
(My father happens to be totally blind, and he and his rabbi are visiting my mother in the hospital where she is being treated for cancer. Besides being blind, my father is able-bodied. The rabbi walks with a very defined limp.)
Father: “Thank you for driving me here, Rabbi. I just wanted to warn you that the nurses here must think people walk and hear with their eyes. They’re going to offer me a wheelchair, and they’ll address any questions to you.”
Rabbi: “What? I’m sure they won’t.”
Father: “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
(The rabbi and my father walk into the hospital and go to sign in as visitors. Immediately…)
Nurse: “Wait here while I call someone to bring a wheelchair.”
Rabbi: “It’s okay; I can manage the elevator without it.”
Nurse: “What? Oh, no, it’s not for you. It’s for him.”
Father: “I don’t need a wheelchair, really.”
Nurse: *to the rabbi* “Are you sure he’ll be okay without it?”
Rabbi: *to my father, after they manage to turn down the wheelchair and head for the elevator* “You were right!”
Grandparents, Health & Body, Lazy/Unhelpful, Middle School, USA | | Healthy | June 12, 2019
(I am in middle school and have been home sick for the past couple days with a bad sore throat and high fever. On the third day, my throat is still so sore I can’t speak or swallow anything and I am still exhausted, so at breakfast, I try to tell my grandparents, whom I live with, that I don’t think I can go to school. This does not go over well. Note, my grandfather is a licensed family physician and has successfully run his own practice for the past forty years.)
Grandfather: “Your glands aren’t swollen and you don’t feel that warm. It’s normal for a sore throat to linger. You’ve missed enough school; you can’t miss anymore. You’ll be fine.”
(My grandmother defers to his “diagnosis” and drives me to school, even though I haven’t eaten anything because swallowing is agony. I get there early and hang out in the school entryway waiting for the homeroom bell. I am just miserable. I’m achy and exhausted, and my throat hurts so much it’s making me cry. The school nurse walks by and notices the tears.)
Nurse: “[My Name], what’s wrong?”
(I try to tell her my throat hurts, but nothing comes out. She ushers me into her office.)
Nurse: “Well, let’s start with taking a temperature, okay? Just hold on a minute.”
(She puts the thermometer in my ear and waits for it to beep. After she reads it, there’s a beat of silence.)
Nurse: “Wow. [My Name], you can’t be here. I’m going to have to call your parents.”
(It turned out I had a 103-degree fever. Less than ten minutes after she dropped me off, my grandmother got a phone call from the nurse to come and pick me up. I didn’t even make it to homeroom. So much for not feeling “that warm”! Thankfully, my grandfather has a sense of humor, because I have never let him live that one down.)
Atlanta, Bigotry, Car, Comeuppance, Georgia, Nurses, USA | | Healthy | June 12, 2019
(I am a nurse. I am invited by one of my former boyfriends to go to a movie with him and his current girlfriend. Since I have no current boyfriend, he says that I can bring a friend with me. I ask a former classmate from nursing school along. The classmate is black. After we are picked up, the former boyfriend starts making bigoted jokes. After each one, he will look at my classmate in the mirror and say, “Oh, no offense.” After about three of these, the classmate turns to me.)
Classmate: “[My Name], we had an interesting case last week.”
Me: *who knows a straight line when I hear one* “Oh, really? What happened?”
Classmate: “Well, we had a new patient on the hall, and as the charge nurse, I was the one checking him in. The whole time, though, he kept making remarks.”
Me: “What kind of remarks?”
Classmate: “Oh, you know. Sexual remarks.”
Me: “So, what happened after that?”
Classmate: “Well, you know at my hospital, nurses are required to insert Foley catheters. So, I was getting him ready for it, and he started making his remarks again. I proceeded with the intubation, though. But I’m afraid I made a mistake.”
Me: “What kind of mistake?”
Classmate: “I forgot to use any jelly.”
(There was an audible hiss from the driver, and the classmate looked up at him in the mirror.)
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