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.
Dentist, Extra Stupid, France, Patients | Healthy | August 5, 2018
(I study dentistry at a dental clinic in France. The dental clinic is split into what we call services: surgery, prosthetics, urgent care, etc. That means that a patient who wants the teeth we remove to be replaced by a prosthesis needs to coordinate his appointments with both services. It’s more complicated than just going to a regular dentist, but in France clinics make you pay exactly what healthcare reimburses, making it free for everyone, apart from “better” acts, like implants. The basic stuff is 100% covered, though, and that’s why poor people come here. Every service is clearly labeled. I have this interaction while working in the surgery service, with a patient who has six teeth left, and NO prosthesis.)
Me: “So, according to your file, we have to remove those three teeth.”
Patient: “But you will replace them, right?”
Me: “It says in your file that you have an appointment in prosthesis; they will take care of it.”
Patient: “But I want you to do it now! It’s in two months!”
(It is rather urgent that his teeth be removed, as they have already become infected in the past.)
Me: “Ah, well, then, we can remove the teeth now, and you can go to your planned appointment. In fact, it’s not that bad; we require about two to three months of healing before we can make a fully-functional prosthesis.”
Patient: “What will I do without my teeth, though? I’d rather stay like this and come back in two months!”
(The teeth we’re talking about are premolars. His front teeth, the incisors, are long gone, as are his back teeth, his molars. The premolars serve no purpose if they’re not surrounded or faced by other teeth.)
Me: “Are you sure? They could get infected again and cause you a lot of pain. They’re of no use to you, you can’t eat with them, and we don’t see them when you smile.”
Patient: “I want to keep them! What would I do without them?”
(I don’t know, the exact same thing you’ve been doing for the past ten years with your six remaining rotten teeth? He ended up leaving and refused any care. Bet he’ll b**** and moan when, in two months, they tell him they can’t do a nice prosthesis for two other months…)
Funny Kids, Health & Body, home, Non-Dialogue, USA | Healthy | August 4, 2018
When I was little, my mom was trying to teach me to wash my hands after I went to the bathroom. She told me that germs would climb onto my hands from the toilet, and that if I didn’t wash my hands to kill them, they might make me sick.
At that time, I didn’t realize that she meant that there were germs already on the toilet, and thus even flushing the toilet would contaminate my hands. I thought she meant that as I went to the bathroom, the germs would climb up my body, specifically trying to get to my hands so they could make me sick.
This led to a few years of me using the bathroom while holding my hands as far out as I could, so that the germs would have farther to climb. If my arms touched my upper body, for example, the germs could take the shortcut through my elbows and get to my hands sooner. If I took too long, there were germs all over my hands, and I needed to wash them. If I was fast enough, though, the germs hadn’t had a chance to get to my hands, and I didn’t have to wash them.
I am very sure that that was not the lesson my mother meant to teach me, but it’s the lesson my young self learned.
Doctor/Physician, England, Jerk, Medical Office, Norfolk, UK | Healthy | August 2, 2018
(I’ve been having stabbing pains in my abdomen and eventually go, by myself, to the doctor surgery. I am also a “Miss,” as in, not married.)
Doctor: “I see you have PCOS. This pain could just be that.”
Me: “I know there’s pain related to that, but it’s not in the right places and does not feel the same.”
Doctor: “Okay.”
(He’s reading my notes, which surprises me, as other doctors at this surgery don’t.)
Doctor: “You know, it’s not as bad as you may think. There’s a lot we can do now to make sure you can have children now.” *goes on a really long spiel about getting pregnant and having kids, etc.* “Do you want me to arrange an appointment to discuss it with [Doctor]? Or would you like to discuss it with your partner first?”
Me: *thoroughly bewildered* “Um… No, thanks.”
Doctor: “You should talk to your partner about it. He might want kids whilst you’re both young.”
(He went on about PCOS more and having kids, before going back to the reason I was there in the first place. I get making sure I knew that there were options for kids in the future, but I don’t have a partner, and don’t want kids –which he didn’t check before going on about it — and that wasn’t the reason why I was there.)
Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Massachusetts, Medical Office, Psychiatrist, USA | Healthy | August 1, 2018
(I’m waiting to see my psychiatrist for a medication check-up. This office schedules meds appointments in fifteen-minute blocks; they’re a quick in-and-out to make sure the meds are working before the prescription is refilled. I arrive five minutes before my appointment and am told I’m seeing a new doctor. I’m a little annoyed that they didn’t tell me this when the appointment was being set up — my father works in the mental health field and I’m uncomfortable being seen by his coworkers — but whatever; maybe my regular doctor is out sick. So, I go to the waiting room. And wait. And wait. At twenty minutes past my appointment time — so, five minutes after it is supposed to be over — I hear the receptionists chatting. They say something about the new doctor having computer problems. Okay, stuff happens. Forty minutes past my appointment time, the person who is waiting before me gets into a shouting match with the receptionists about how late things are running. I’m frustrated too, but an extra person yelling won’t change anything, and I have plenty of time, so I keep waiting. Finally, fifty minutes after my scheduled time, a harried-looking man calls my name and introduces himself as the doctor. I’m expecting him to apologize for the delay, or offer an explanation, or anything. Nope. He doesn’t say a word until we get to his office. Now my appointment starts in earnest.)
Doctor: “So, do think you’re depressed?”
Me: *pause* “This appointment is literally to treat my diagnosed depression, so, um, yeah.”
(He doesn’t respond at all to this. He doesn’t even look at me. He has a walking desk, so he’s power-walking in place while he types on his computer. And he keeps typing. For almost ten minutes. I almost stand up and walk out. But I’ve already been here forever, I don’t want to have to do this all again, and I need my meds refilled. So, I take out my knitting and work on that for a bit.)
Doctor: “Do you want to keep taking [Medication #1 ] and [Medication #2]?”
Me: “Yes, please.”
(He types for a few more minutes.)
Doctor: “I’ve sent in the prescriptions for those. I’ll see you again in five months.”
Me: “Thank you.”
(I get up to leave.)
Doctor: “Wow! You’re so fast at knitting! What are you making?”
Me: “A sweater. Bye.”
(I was at that office for over an hour, but in the appointment for less than fifteen minutes. He said almost nothing to me, and half of what he did say was about knitting. And when I went to the pharmacy, only one of the prescriptions had actually been sent over!)
Bosses & Owners, Jerk, Lazy/Unhelpful, Office, Spouses & Partners, UK | Working | November 27, 2017
Receptionist: “Hello, [Business].”
Me: “Hi. Could I please speak to [Manager], please?”
Receptionist: *click*
(I phone again, thinking I was just disconnected by accident.)
Receptionist: “Hello, [Business].”
Me: “Hi, I think—”
Receptionist: *click*
(Knowing she actually cut me off this time, I phone back again.)
Receptionist: “Hello, [Business].”
Me: “Why do you keep cutting me off?!”
Receptionist: “Because this is a cold call, and I’m told to hang up on them.”
Me: “Actually, I’m [Manager]’s husband, and I’d like to speak to him.”
Receptionist: “Yeah, right!” *laughing* “I’ve met his wife.” *click*
(Having had enough, I decide to just drive down.)
Receptionist: *smiling brightly* “Hello, welcome to [Business]. How can I help you?”
Me: “I’d like to speak to [Manager].”
Receptionist: “What reason do you have to speak to him? Do you have an appointment?”
Me: “I’m his husband, and no.”
(She realises who I am and sneers.)
Receptionist: *sarcastically* “Really? You’re that desperate?”
(Coincidently, my husband happens to walk by.)
Husband: “[My Name]? What are you doing here?”
Receptionist: “You know this degenerate?” *smugly* “I was just about to have him removed.”
Husband: “What? Why? He’s my husband!”
(The receptionist blushes and we stand in awkward silence for a few seconds.)
Me: *to the receptionist* “You want to explain?”
(The receptionist stammered through her explanation, with me inserting her claim that he had a wife after she neglected to mention it. My husband actually found it hilarious. She isn’t allowed near the phones anymore, though
Dentist, Extra Stupid, France, Patients | Healthy | August 5, 2018
(I study dentistry at a dental clinic in France. The dental clinic is split into what we call services: surgery, prosthetics, urgent care, etc. That means that a patient who wants the teeth we remove to be replaced by a prosthesis needs to coordinate his appointments with both services. It’s more complicated than just going to a regular dentist, but in France clinics make you pay exactly what healthcare reimburses, making it free for everyone, apart from “better” acts, like implants. The basic stuff is 100% covered, though, and that’s why poor people come here. Every service is clearly labeled. I have this interaction while working in the surgery service, with a patient who has six teeth left, and NO prosthesis.)
Me: “So, according to your file, we have to remove those three teeth.”
Patient: “But you will replace them, right?”
Me: “It says in your file that you have an appointment in prosthesis; they will take care of it.”
Patient: “But I want you to do it now! It’s in two months!”
(It is rather urgent that his teeth be removed, as they have already become infected in the past.)
Me: “Ah, well, then, we can remove the teeth now, and you can go to your planned appointment. In fact, it’s not that bad; we require about two to three months of healing before we can make a fully-functional prosthesis.”
Patient: “What will I do without my teeth, though? I’d rather stay like this and come back in two months!”
(The teeth we’re talking about are premolars. His front teeth, the incisors, are long gone, as are his back teeth, his molars. The premolars serve no purpose if they’re not surrounded or faced by other teeth.)
Me: “Are you sure? They could get infected again and cause you a lot of pain. They’re of no use to you, you can’t eat with them, and we don’t see them when you smile.”
Patient: “I want to keep them! What would I do without them?”
(I don’t know, the exact same thing you’ve been doing for the past ten years with your six remaining rotten teeth? He ended up leaving and refused any care. Bet he’ll b**** and moan when, in two months, they tell him they can’t do a nice prosthesis for two other months…)
Funny Kids, Health & Body, home, Non-Dialogue, USA | Healthy | August 4, 2018
When I was little, my mom was trying to teach me to wash my hands after I went to the bathroom. She told me that germs would climb onto my hands from the toilet, and that if I didn’t wash my hands to kill them, they might make me sick.
At that time, I didn’t realize that she meant that there were germs already on the toilet, and thus even flushing the toilet would contaminate my hands. I thought she meant that as I went to the bathroom, the germs would climb up my body, specifically trying to get to my hands so they could make me sick.
This led to a few years of me using the bathroom while holding my hands as far out as I could, so that the germs would have farther to climb. If my arms touched my upper body, for example, the germs could take the shortcut through my elbows and get to my hands sooner. If I took too long, there were germs all over my hands, and I needed to wash them. If I was fast enough, though, the germs hadn’t had a chance to get to my hands, and I didn’t have to wash them.
I am very sure that that was not the lesson my mother meant to teach me, but it’s the lesson my young self learned.
(I work at a market research firm. Part of my job involves calling the manufacturers of high-tech devices to interview them. Some of the companies I call are very large, and others are quite small family firms. Some of the smaller companies have local radio stations on instead of hold music. Usually these are country music stations with ads about farm equipment. One time though
Me: “Hello, this is [My Name] calling from [Company]. Could I be connected with [Project Manager], please?”
Receptionist: “Sure thing. Please hold.”
Me: “Okay.”
Hold Music: *really loud gangsta rap* “MY MONEY AND MY HOES!”
(I started laughing so hard I had to hang up and call back again.)
Canada, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, Quebec, Reception | Healthy | January 18, 2018
(There is a small medical clinic where I live. Usually, for walk-in patients, you get to the door very early, wait until they open it, then head for the desk, where you are assigned an appointment time for the day depending on the order of arrival. Usually, people behave and do not jump forward. Rarely, but sometimes, the clinic isn’t full, and going in mid-morning, you might still get a spot. It’s about 11, and I feel I might have a feminine infection. I stop by the clinic to see if there’s room.)
Secretary: “I’m sorry. There’s a new phone system in place. Now you have to call in the morning and leave your name and phone number. Someone will call you back with the time of your appointment.”
Me: “Well, I’m right here. Can’t you just give me a time?”
Secretary: “No, you have to call.”
Me: “Okay, fine.”
(I make two steps to the side, pick up my cellphone, take the card she gave me with the phone number, and start dialing. The secretary looks at me.)
Secretary: “What are you doing?”
Me: “Calling for an appointment. You said I absolutely had to call.”
Secretary: “Ugh… Okay, I’ll give you one.”
(I believe she suddenly realized that I would have left my info on the answering machine, that she would have listen to it, then call me back with the time, all while I was standing in front of her.)
Bad Behavior, Essex, Medical Office, Reception, UK | Healthy | August 3, 2018
(The doctors I am with primarily deal with “on the day” appointments, because let’s face it, you can’t schedule when you will be ill. They open at 8:00 am on the dot, and as I’m used to the fact they are busy, I start phoning at 7:59, hitting redial until I get the, “Welcome to…” automated message and not the, “The surgery is closed,” automated message. I’m aiming to be early in the queue of callers trying to get an appointment. Thankfully I get through quickly, having been second in the queue, and ask for an appointment to see a doctor. The receptionist is female, but my doctor is male.)
Receptionist: “Why do you want to see a doctor?”
Me: *politely* “I really would rather not discuss my medical issues with you, and would rather speak to my doctor about it.”
(This is my right here in the UK.)
Receptionist: “But I need to know why you want to see a doctor.”
Me: “I really am uncomfortable discussing it with you.”
Receptionist: “Unless you tell me exactly why you want to see a doctor, you will not today, or at any point, be able to get an appointment!”
Me: *losing my cool* “You are breaching every policy your practice has. I would like to speak to the practice manager, immediately.”
Receptionist: “There will be a short wait.”
(Thirty minutes later I was still on hold, and got another receptionist asking why I was holding for so long. I was put through to the practice manager, who was NOT aware I was waiting. I explained to the practice manager what had happened. I was advised I could come in immediately and see a doctor. I was given time with the doctor to go over my health concerns, which were legitimate concerns, but thankfully came to nothing serious. The first receptionist was made to apologise to me, and when I went back for a follow-up a month later, I was told she was no longer working there. I found out she had been doing this before, but it hadn’t been picked up on as people either caved, or just didn’t complain!)
Doctor/Physician, England, Jerk, Medical Office, Norfolk, UK | Healthy | August 2, 2018
(I’ve been having stabbing pains in my abdomen and eventually go, by myself, to the doctor surgery. I am also a “Miss,” as in, not married.)
Doctor: “I see you have PCOS. This pain could just be that.”
Me: “I know there’s pain related to that, but it’s not in the right places and does not feel the same.”
Doctor: “Okay.”
(He’s reading my notes, which surprises me, as other doctors at this surgery don’t.)
Doctor: “You know, it’s not as bad as you may think. There’s a lot we can do now to make sure you can have children now.” *goes on a really long spiel about getting pregnant and having kids, etc.* “Do you want me to arrange an appointment to discuss it with [Doctor]? Or would you like to discuss it with your partner first?”
Me: *thoroughly bewildered* “Um… No, thanks.”
Doctor: “You should talk to your partner about it. He might want kids whilst you’re both young.”
(He went on about PCOS more and having kids, before going back to the reason I was there in the first place. I get making sure I knew that there were options for kids in the future, but I don’t have a partner, and don’t want kids –which he didn’t check before going on about it — and that wasn’t the reason why I was there.)
Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Massachusetts, Medical Office, Psychiatrist, USA | Healthy | August 1, 2018
(I’m waiting to see my psychiatrist for a medication check-up. This office schedules meds appointments in fifteen-minute blocks; they’re a quick in-and-out to make sure the meds are working before the prescription is refilled. I arrive five minutes before my appointment and am told I’m seeing a new doctor. I’m a little annoyed that they didn’t tell me this when the appointment was being set up — my father works in the mental health field and I’m uncomfortable being seen by his coworkers — but whatever; maybe my regular doctor is out sick. So, I go to the waiting room. And wait. And wait. At twenty minutes past my appointment time — so, five minutes after it is supposed to be over — I hear the receptionists chatting. They say something about the new doctor having computer problems. Okay, stuff happens. Forty minutes past my appointment time, the person who is waiting before me gets into a shouting match with the receptionists about how late things are running. I’m frustrated too, but an extra person yelling won’t change anything, and I have plenty of time, so I keep waiting. Finally, fifty minutes after my scheduled time, a harried-looking man calls my name and introduces himself as the doctor. I’m expecting him to apologize for the delay, or offer an explanation, or anything. Nope. He doesn’t say a word until we get to his office. Now my appointment starts in earnest.)
Doctor: “So, do think you’re depressed?”
Me: *pause* “This appointment is literally to treat my diagnosed depression, so, um, yeah.”
(He doesn’t respond at all to this. He doesn’t even look at me. He has a walking desk, so he’s power-walking in place while he types on his computer. And he keeps typing. For almost ten minutes. I almost stand up and walk out. But I’ve already been here forever, I don’t want to have to do this all again, and I need my meds refilled. So, I take out my knitting and work on that for a bit.)
Doctor: “Do you want to keep taking [Medication #1 ] and [Medication #2]?”
Me: “Yes, please.”
(He types for a few more minutes.)
Doctor: “I’ve sent in the prescriptions for those. I’ll see you again in five months.”
Me: “Thank you.”
(I get up to leave.)
Doctor: “Wow! You’re so fast at knitting! What are you making?”
Me: “A sweater. Bye.”
(I was at that office for over an hour, but in the appointment for less than fifteen minutes. He said almost nothing to me, and half of what he did say was about knitting. And when I went to the pharmacy, only one of the prescriptions had actually been sent over!)
No Spoonful Of Sugar Is Helping This Medicine Go Down
Bad Behavior, Florida, Jerk, Patients, Pharmacy, USA | Healthy | July 31, 2018
(When you come to pick up a prescription, I have to make sure it’s going to the right person or I get written up and, if I get written up enough times, lose my job. This particular pharmacy asks that we verify the address on file, but if they don’t know it, I’ll usually take some other manner of verification if necessary. It’s late, and there’s an hour and a half left to go of a seven-hour day, and all I want to do is go home, so I admit I’m a bit tired. A guy comes up who couldn’t be more than 22, I’d guess, and I smile and go to the register, asking him who he’s picking up for.)
Guy: “My girlfriend.”
Me: “Okay. What’s her name?”
Guy: “[First Name].”
(I need a last name in particular to search, and unfortunately most of the younger crowd usually never give their last name unless prompted. I have no idea why.)
Me: “What’s her last name?”
Guy: “[Last Name].”
(I go over to get it, which doesn’t take long, and return.)
Me: “And what’s her address, please?”
(He gives me this look like I’ve told him that the sky is green or that he’s standing on his head.)
Guy: “I’ve picked up before and they’ve never, ever asked me for her address before.”
(Then he clearly hasn’t picked up for her before at this pharmacy, because we always ask for the address. I say it so often that even when I’m doing things that don’t require it, I sometimes end up saying the words. Sometimes I end up asking them their address before I ask their name, before I can stop myself.)
Me: “Um… We always ask for the address.”
Guy: “No one has ever asked me before!”
Me: “Well, sometimes if you don’t know it, we’ll try another way to verify. Do you know it?”
Guy: “No!”
Me: “Okay, what’s her date of birth?”
(That, he knows. He tells that to me and I’m assured that I have the right person. A new law was passed in July that on certain types and classes of medicines, I now have to ask for a form of ID and enter it into the computer. What he’s picking up falls into that class.)
Me: “I need to see your ID, please.”
Guy: “Why?”
Me: “It’s the law as of the first of July. I have to have an ID.”
Guy: “Does that mean I have to get hers from the car?”
Me: “No, I need yours, since you’re picking it up.”
Guy: “But… does that mean I have to get hers?”
Me: “Um… No. I need yours.”
Guy: “I don’t have mine.”
Me: “Then she has to come in and pick it up.”
Guy: “Why can’t I just go get hers and give it to you?”
(Now I can understand his hesitancy. There’s a big storm that has been going on all day, but neither weather nor annoying teenagers are going to make me break the law.)
Me: “Because it’s her license. Whatever license I have has to be for the person picking up. It’s the law.”
(We go back and forth about this for another minute, to the point that my pharmacist has to come over and back me up, telling him that we have to follow all rules and regulations, and if it’s her license, it has be her. He finally goes out to get her and comes back in. I think this is a wonderful opportunity to do my job right now that she’s here.)
Me: “What’s your address?”
Girl: *throws her ID on the counter* “On file.”
Me: *blink*
(I’ve never had a customer refuse to give their address. Sometimes they’ll pretend to give me a hard time or forget some of the numbers, but I’ve never had someone give me a smart a** remark about it being “on file,” because most have the intelligence to realize that there’s a reason I’m asking for it and it’s most certainly not to hear myself talk. I want to keep my job.)
Me: “I’m sorry; we ask that for verification. If you don’t know yo—”
Girl: *interrupts snottily* “I know my address. It’s [address].”
(She picked up her license from the counter and proceeded to throw it again. I decided I’d had enough of dealing with the twat that was clearly just too lazy to come in and sent her boyfriend in for her, since I could see no legitimate reason for her not to come in besides the rain. And part of me wanted a little bit of revenge for these people half my age giving me a hard time, so I took my time, every bit of it that I could, prolonging the transaction just because they were antsy. As they left, she shot me a glare, snatched up her prescription, and then went to the industrial scale nearby that people use to measure weight and proceeded to jump up and down on it once or twice before leaving.)
Bad Behavior, Maryland, Pets & Animals, USA, Vet | Healthy | July 30, 2018
(I work the front desk in a highly recommended vet hospital that has both appointments with doctors and a walk-in emergency service. Emergency visits are always a trip. A young man walks in, carrying his dachshund mix. He tells me that his dog is having respiratory distress, so I take her back to see the doctor first before getting his information. It turns out that the dog has been having breathing troubles for two days. The doctor is not impressed with that info and, with client approval, takes some x-rays to see what might be going on internally. It’s cancer, a lot of cancer in all of the places. The dog is not comfortable outside of oxygen, so the vet goes to talk to the owner to explain that euthanasia is the only humane option. By this point, the owner’s father has come to join him and has brought his own dog. He is handling the dog very roughly and occasionally whacks the dog lightly with the end of the leash when he thinks the dog is misbehaving.)
Father: “Vets just want to take your money! Don’t worry, [Dog], they’re not going to see you. This is where dogs come to die.”
(He is making other clients uncomfortable, so I warn the ER doctor as she goes in to speak with them. The client is understandably shocked and upset, but the father is whole other matter.)
Father: “We’re not ready to put her down yet. Can you give us meds to keep her comfortable for another week?”
Vet: “Sir, she isn’t comfortable at all outside of oxygen. It would be against medical advice to take her out of oxygen and take her home.”
Father: “I’ll take her out of oxygen if I want to! It’s not like she’s suffering!”
(The vet was literally so angry she had to leave the room because yes, this dog was suffering! The father continued to be resistant, but the client agreed that it was in her best interest to euthanize her immediately, and handled the rest of the visit like a rational adult.)
Jerk, Medical Office, Nurses, Texas, USA | Healthy | July 28, 2018
(I am a female and a teenager. I’m temporarily on a medication that has a lot of side effects, one of the main ones being high cholesterol. I have no prior history of high cholesterol, though. I’m at the doctor’s office with my mom specifically to check that the side effects of the medication are not getting out of hand.)
Nurse: “Okay, so, looking at your results, your cholesterol is higher than it should be.” *addressing my mom* “Mom, no more serving hamburgers, and no more fast food! All that salt, red meat, and fat is really bad for teenagers, even if that’s all they want to eat.”
Mom: “Actually, we never eat fast food, and we’ve been eating pescatarian for the past few months.”
Me: “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve gone to a fast food restaurant in years.”
(The nurse looks a little flustered at this point.)
Nurse: “Well, I know how teenagers are in the summer, so try to do some walking, at least! No more laying around on the couch all day!”
Me: “I’ve actually been swimming a mile every day, and I am working as a lifeguard.”
(The nurse is starting to look annoyed, like she doesn’t believe us.)
Nurse: “Right… Well, you need to fix this, or we’re going to have to put you on medication, and you’re too young to be on cholesterol medication.”
(My mother is getting annoyed and defensive now.)
Mom: “She’s on [Medication]; that’s the whole reason we’re here! Isn’t high cholesterol one of the side effects of the medicine?”
Nurse: *glaring at my mom* “Well… Sometimes.”
Mom: “Don’t you think that might be the reason she has high cholesterol, then?”
(The nurse just walked out at that point, and we didn’t see her the rest of the visit. We mentioned it to the doctor later, but she just said, “Well, your cholesterol is kind of high.” Luckily, once I got off the medication a few months later, my cholesterol dropped back down. But seriously, at least ask questions before making patronizing assumptions about someone’s diet and exercise.)
Bad Behavior, Boston, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Massachusetts, Nurses, USA | Healthy | July 27, 2018
(I’m Bipolar I and not medicated. We’ve tried a few different combinations of drugs for me, but unfortunately I either have side effects or it simply doesn’t help anything. While therapy has been helpful, it’s not perfect; I still need the occasional trip to a psychiatric hospital. For this particular incident, I am sent to a completely different hospital, which I later learn is more adequately equipped to handle patients seeking drug rehab. However, even that seems to be inaccurate, as I learn during my three-and-a-half day visit. On day one, a patient and the head of the wing are talking in a common area
Patient #1: “When do you think I can go home?”
Doctor #1: “Sunday. Your insurance lets us hold you another week.”
(For a little context, during a previous group session I had with [Patient #1], he mentioned he’s been here almost two weeks and the head of the group commented on how much progress he’s made. As my stay continues, it isn’t uncommon to overhear the nurses gossiping about how they can’t believe the doctors still won’t discharge [Patient #1]. Day two: one of the other patients is a new mother with apparently no thought filter. As a result, she frequently talks about how she has to pump if the subject even remotely drifts towards family or children. One of the other patients finally gets fed up with it and a fight nearly breaks out. Unlike the mother, the other patient is allowed to leave the wing to go have lunch in the cafeteria.)
Doctor #2: “Okay, [Patient #3], you just lost your cafeteria privilege for today.”
Me: “But doesn’t [Patient #2] have to stay up here, too?”
Doctor #2: “Of course.”
Me: “So, you’re going to lock them in the wing together when most of the staff is down in the cafeteria?”
(After enough of us band together, the doctors finally agree the best thing they can do for both patients is to separate them. Also of note, a fourth patient is discharged at the end of day two, with a certain nurse helping her gather her things. On day three, though I’ve only had three or four sessions with her, I bid [Patient #3] farewell as she is gathering her things from the storage locker with the same nurse who assisted yesterday’s discharge. Just as I go to leave
Patient #3: “Where’s my backpack?”
Nurse #1: “Your what?”
Patient #3: “My backpack. I came in with a pink backpack from [Brand]. Where is it?”
Nurse #1: “We only had one like that. It was [Patient #4]’s, wasn’t it?”
Patient #3: “Wha?!”
Nurse #1: “She said that bag was hers. We gave it to her when she left last night.”
Patient #3: “YOU GAVE HER MY BACKPACK?!”
Nurse #1: “Sorry. We’ll call the police and report the theft.”
Patient 3: “WHAT THE F***’S THAT GOING TO DO? SHE’S BEEN GONE A DAY ALREADY! WHY DIDN’T ANY OF YOU NOTICE THE BAG WASN’T LABELLED FOR HER?” *begins crying*
Nurse #1: “Calm down! It’s just a backpack!”
Patient #3: “THAT BACKPACK HAD MY WALLET IN IT! WITH MY LICENSE AND SOCIAL SECURITY CARD! YOU LET HER STEAL MY IDENTITY!”
Nurse #1: “We can replace those things!”
Patient #3: “IT HAD THE ONLY PICTURE I HAVE OF ME WITH MY FATHER! YOU CAN’T REPLACE THAT! HE DIED AFTER I WAS BORN!”
Me: “Get the f****** police already, you dips***!”
(I didn’t know what else to do. The police do show up, though I have no idea how this story ends or if anything was done about [Nurse #1]. On day four — my release day — I’m sitting in the common area playing cards, waiting for my girlfriend to show up and drive me home. Needing a fourth for Hearts, one of the nurses agrees to join us.)
Nurse #2: “[My Name], you sure know how to pick ’em. Of all the weeks you could’ve shown up!”
Me: “I’m amazed, too.”
Nurse #2: “Yeah, but this ain’t even the worst of it. One patient last year always ran his mouth. ‘I’m in for bestiality!’ ‘I’m a member of the local KKK and they think this’ll cure me!’ and on and on. All cause he didn’t want to admit he tried to kill himself after his girlfriend broke up with him.”
Me: “Excuse me?”
Nurse #2: “Yeah, he just kept making excuses to justify the cuts on his arms.”
Me: “You can’t tell us that! His medical records are still privileged!”
(I’ve never been back. I haven’t looked it up yet, because I’m truly frightened that it might still be open.)
Might Actually Be Worth Getting Whooping Cough, Instead
Dublin, Ireland, Jerk, Medical Office, Reception | Healthy | July 27, 2018
(I’m midway through my pregnancy and have been putting off getting the whooping cough vaccine, so I call my doctor to schedule an appointment.)
Me: “Hi. I was wondering if I could book an appointment for the whooping cough vaccination?”
Receptionist: “What’s your name and date of birth?”
Me: “That’s [My Name] and [date].”
Receptionist: “It says here you’re 22 weeks.”
Me: “Yep.”
Receptionist: “Then, no, you can’t have an appointment.”
Me: “Um, right. Is there any reason why not?”
Receptionist: “The vaccine is only available from 26 weeks.”
Me: “Oh, right. I thought [Doctor] said I could get it from 16 weeks. I must have misheard. It’s okay, though, I can wait another four weeks.”
Receptionist: “Let me check with the doctor. Hold the line.”
(Pause.)
Receptionist: *sarcastically* “Well, I guess the doctor just knows more than me, huh? Clearly I’m just a receptionist, so I wouldn’t know anything. Apparently you can get it from 16 weeks.”
Me: “So, can I book an appointment?”
Receptionist: “At 11 on Monday.”
Me: “That’s perfect. Thank you.”
Receptionist: “The vaccine isn’t free, you know.”
(Most health care is free while pregnant in Ireland, but things like vaccines aren’t.)
Me: “Yep, that’s fine. I have no issue paying.”
Receptionist: “Good, because you have to pay. You’re not getting it free.”
Me: “I know.”
Receptionist: “Because it’s not free. You have to pay.”
Me: *Pause* “Is there anything else you need from me?”
Receptionist: “No, but when you come in for the appointment you have to pay.”
(I work as a speech therapist. While I mostly work with children, I have a handful of adult patients with brain damage. As most of them aren’t able to walk, I visit them at home. All of the patients have fixed appointments once or twice a week. After some recent changes, I end up with an awkward schedule — driving from one end of the town to the other, back and forth — that makes me lose about two hours a week due to driving. I plan to coordinate this better and ask all of my patients if they are okay with different times and/or dates. It works well with everyone at first. I talk to one of my patients, a senior citizen, whom I visit every Monday and Wednesday.)
Me: “I plan to change my weekly schedule. Would it be okay if we moved Monday’s sitting from 11:00 to 13:50?”
Patient: “Well, the physical therapist is there until 13:45, so it should be fine.”
(On the next Monday, I arrive at 13:55. The physical therapist is still with her.)
Me: “Oh, am I early? I am sorry. I thought you two would be done by now”
Physical Therapist: “Oh, no, we still have 15 minutes left. We always have until 14:10.”
Me: “I’m sorry; I didn’t know that. [Patient], we need to reschedule our Monday’s appointment.”
Patient: “Huh? Why? I thought it would be only once. I figured we could cut the therapy a bit shorter today and go back to normal next week.”
Me: “I’m afraid I can’t do that, as I already gave that time to another patient. I am so sorry that I didn’t make it clear that the change would be permanent. My schedule is packed, but what about Tuesday, 11 o’clock instead of Monday?”
Patient: “I am at the daycare on Tuesdays and Fridays”
Me: “That isn’t a problem for me. We have lots of patients in day care. I could visit you there, if that’s okay with you?”
Patient: “Yes, let’s do this.”
Me: “Okay, so now, instead of Monday, I will visit on Tuesdays every week.”
(With everything being clear, we start practicing. On Wednesday I visit her as always, reminding her of our new permanent appointment once again. The next Tuesday, I drive to the day care facility to find her completely surprised, but not by the fact that I showed up there today.)
Patient: “Where were you yesterday?”
Me: “We’ve moved the appointment from Monday to Tuesday. That’s why I’m here today.”
Patient: “Yes, we talked about you coming here on Tuesday, but I didn’t know that meant Monday would be cancelled.”
Me: “We have to have therapy twice a week, so instead of Monday and Wednesday, we now do Tuesday and Wednesday.”
Patient: “Ah, I see.”
(We go on normally. Everything works fine for two weeks, until I get stuck in traffic one Tuesday morning and don’t make it to her. I call her to let her know. The next day, I visit as usual.)
Patient: “Where were you on Monday? I thought you’d be here on Monday.”
(I start explaining again why I can’t come in on Mondays and how we moved it to Tuesday.)
Patient: “But I thought that would be only once. I didn’t know you wanted to come to the day care every week. Every time you come, I miss out on the games and quizzes we do there.”
Me: “I am sorry, but that’s why I asked you if it’s okay before I actually changed the plan. I don’t have many options left right now.”
(I feel bad for her, as I obviously didn’t explain it to her properly, so I explain it again and make extra sure she understood what happened. Finally, I offer to sacrifice one of my lunch breaks to make room for her.)
Me: “The only open appointment would be Thursday at 11:30.”
Patient: “No, that’s not possible, either. Can’t we do Monday, 11:00?”
Me: “As I already explained, I am on a huge tour and can’t be back before 13:30, which won’t work because of the physical therapy. Is there something else you do on Thursdays?”
Patient: “No, it’s just so inconvenient. Why can’t we do Monday?”
Me: “Because I asked you if we could change the time and date. If you had said no, I wouldn’t have changed anything. But I did, and your old appointment is no longer available. What would be a more convenient time for you?”
(Surprisingly, Monday at 11 was still the only time she was willing to agree, so I had to re-reschedule about ten patients, and now I’m back to my old awkward
Doctor/Physician, home, Malaysia, Silly | Healthy | July 26, 2018
(My family is friends with another family whose dad is an obstetrician/gynaecologist and also a huge joker. In our part of the world, there are sometimes weird pseudo-scientific food fads, including products containing colostrum which is the special milk that comes out just after a mother mammal gives birth — even though cow colostrum isn’t really going to help you unless you’re a calf. At a party, someone shows up with some of these “health” products
Friend: “Look, I brought these colostrum biscuits.”
Obstetrician: *takes one and munches on it* “Hmm, doesn’t taste like colostrum.”
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