It’s An Emergency! But It Can Wait. JERK, MEDICAL OFFICE, NURSES, USA | HEALTHY | SEPTEMBER 7, 2020

Too Bad Money Doesn’t Spread Like Disease
CURRENT EVENTS, EMPLOYEES, HEALTH & BODY, HOSPITAL, NON-DIALOGUE, NURSES, THE NETHERLANDS | HEALTHY | JULY 12, 2020
I have to visit my local hospital. At this moment, the health crisis is still ongoing, but it is not really spreading fast or causing many deaths in my country anymore.

When you enter the hospital, there are people there who ask you what your business is and if you have any symptoms related to the illness. The way this hospital is set up is that you have a big open space right after the doors. During this time, they have taped off a section for people entering so they catch everybody going in and are able to ask them questions.

The way they set this up is that they have a couple of tables surrounded by plexiglass screens about two meters in height and U-shaped. The area for employees is further restricted by tables which sort of create corridors for people to go through. These tables are not protected by the plexiglass. The employees are standing behind those tables, calling us through. Luckily, it is not very busy and I get through easily.

When you exit, you get close to that area again. I linger a bit when I exit because I have to get some stuff in and out of my bag. As I do, I overhear a conversation.

One man asks why the hospital staff has plexiglass screens but doesn’t stand behind them, instead choosing to stand behind the unprotected tables. I take a look at the setup again and I realise that the way these areas are set up, they clearly meant for patients and visitors to go up to the front of the screens, answer the questions required, and then pass through the little artificial corridors to enter the hospital. This way, the employee would be protected at all times and never get close enough to the visitor/patient without a barrier in between them.

However, as it turns out, in order for plexiglass to stand on its own, it has to be quite thick. And what happens if you’re standing behind thick plexiglass? Well… predictably, they will have trouble hearing each other. Apparently, after trying it out, the employees realised that communication was impossible through these screens and that is why they abandoned them. I guess they still managed to stay far enough away from the patients and visitors, at least as far away as required by our laws — 1.5 meters — but it amazed me that the hospital didn’t think of the communication problem.

And for everyone asking if they couldn’t have used microphones and speakers to communicate, here’s a couple of reasons why they didn’t. This setup is in the middle of a big open space. There are no plugs anywhere near. And it is too dangerous to put a wire over that floor. On top of that, the more important reason I guess is that hospitals already don’t get much funding and, as such, are notorious cheapskates.

That Instant Karma Can Be Hard To Swallow
AUSTRALIA, CURRENT EVENTS, HEALTH & BODY, INSTANT KARMA, MEDICAL OFFICE, NON-DIALOGUE, NURSES, PRANKS | HEALTHY | JULY 11, 2020
I’m a nurse working in a drive-thru screening clinic for a widespread illness.

Getting swabbed for this illness involves a throat and nasal swab and it is not a pleasant experience at all. I try my absolute best to be friendly, courteous, gentle, and comforting to make the best of a bad situation for our patients.

And most patients are lovely.

But some are not.

I have one guy drive up with two peers in the car, and he is clearly trying to impress them with bravado.

After ranting at me that “all this s***” is just a scam and how I must like hurting people if I do this job, giving me fake, rude names, etc., we finally get around to taking his throat swab.

I have the swab in his mouth when he lets out a sudden, loud shriek, obviously with the intention of frightening me and making me jump as a “hilarious” joke.

However, due to the fact that I have the swab in his mouth, when I do jump slightly, I end up jabbing his throat with the swab.

“Mate, maybe don’t do that when I have a stick deep down in your throat, okay?” I suggest.

With his eyes downcast, looking humbled and like someone who just got poked sharply in the back of the throat, he says in a small voice, “I’m sorry.”

Ears Are Becoming Vestigial Organs These Days
CANADA, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, MEDICAL OFFICE | HEALTHY | JULY 6, 2020
I work at a clinic where we frequently send people for surgery. Sometimes we send people to the hospital for emergency surgery right from the clinic, but most often, we have their surgery scheduled anywhere between a week from when we saw them up to a few months in the future.

In these cases, we give the patient a quick explanation of the paperwork they need to fill out, as well as how the process works. When we are able to tell patients what day their surgery will be, we explain that we get the time for their surgery right from the hospital but we won’t get that information until the day before their surgery day.

One day, I am answering phones at work when I get the following call.

Caller: “Hi, I was just at the clinic and they said my dad is going to have surgery on [date], but they didn’t give us the time!” *Laughs*

Me: “We always call patients the day before their surgery in the afternoon to inform them of their surgery time.”

Caller: “Oh, that’s what the girl at the desk said.”

Me: “…”

I get that people are a little nervous and preoccupied when they are told they will need to have surgery. However, we get calls like this every single day! Some people just don’t listen, I guess.

Giving Your Children A Time-Release Heart Attack
HEALTH & BODY, HOME, NON-DIALOGUE, PARENTS/GUARDIANS, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 5, 2020
My father contacts me to let me know he is in the hospital. Something is going on with his heart; they are not sure what yet. After a lot of testing, and a lot of panic on my end, he is released with some new medication. He says they are not exactly sure what happened; he didn’t have a heart attack, though.

Fast forward several months, and the topic comes up. I ask him if they have figured out what happened that day.

“No,” he says. “Just that it was some kind of myocardial infarction.”

Cue my bio-nerdy stare of disbelief. That was the day I got to tell my engineer father that “myocardial infarction” is the technical term for a freaking heart attack!

A Most Receptive Receptionist
AWESOME WORKERS, HEALTH & BODY, MEDICAL OFFICE, NON-DIALOGUE, PATIENTS, RECEPTION, SWEDEN | HEALTHY | JULY 4, 2020
I suffer from recurring bouts of erysipelas and have had it twelve times for the past nine years. Each time, I amass a lot of fluids in my body and gain twenty to twenty-five kilograms in a couple of days, which is great fun. I then work hard to shed the unwanted weight and drop back to the original weight, only to get erysipelas again. It’s rather draining mentally.

The first time I got sick, I didn’t understand what was happening. My legs were so filled with fluid that they stopped working, and it took me four hours to drag myself from the living room out to the phone in the hallway to call for an ambulance. I ended up spending four months isolated in the hospital, and I lost all skin on my right leg, from the hip and all the way down to under my feet and around my toes. Instead, green gunk gushed out from the open wound.

It took me six months before I could walk again and I became a “frequent flyer” at my local health clinic during this time, when I also battled cancer.

About eighteen months ago, it was my best friend’s birthday and I was looking forward to visiting her. When I woke up that morning, I felt unwell, but since I had called out sick the two previous times we were supposed to meet, I didn’t want to disappoint her again. She picked me up, we went to her home, and she gushed over her gifts as I started shaking more and more violently. I fell off my chair as I couldn’t stop shuddering. My friend got this huge blanket and wrapped me in it, but I couldn’t speak as I was shaking too much. She dragged me out to her car and drove me home, where I called the health clinic.

I knew from the shaking and the state of my leg that I had erysipelas again.

I was informed by an automated message that they had filled their daily quota for walk-ins, but I was welcome to try again the next day. I knew it was erysipelas but it also felt different as it was progressing much faster than normal.

I called the national health helpline and talked to a rather snotty lady. She told me to call an ambulance right away.

I refused, as I had had erysipelas eleven times before. I knew that I just needed antibiotics and I would get better in a few days — no need for an ambulance or clogging up the emergency room with something unimportant.

So, barely conscious and shaking violently, I went out into the kitchen and made schnitzels. After all, it was what I had planned to cook that day. They were delicious, but… it was not the most logical action. I was rather delirious, though, which might excuse my lack of logical thinking.

I then called the health clinic again and spoke to the receptionist. I knew I would only need a five-minute appointment to come in, show my glaringly red leg, and get a prescription for antibiotics. Could they possibly squeeze me in?

“Yes, if you can get here at 12:45, we can fit you in.”

“Great! I’ll take the bus in ten minutes, at 12:20. See you!”

By now, my legs were swollen, filled with fluid, and horribly infected, and it was difficult to lift my feet. I used my distance walking sticks as crutches to stumble to the bus stop.

It’s only a three-minute bus ride to the health clinic.

When I entered the health clinic, the reception was deserted. A woman was seated in the waiting area but not waiting for the receptionist; I don’t know if she was the companion of another patient or waiting for her ride home. I sat down by the receptionist with my identification ready and more or less lost consciousness. I was shaking so badly. After a while, the receptionist returned. I was too ill to notice, but the other woman went up for me.

“You have to see her immediately!” the woman told the receptionist. “She’s really sick.”

She handed over my ID and my wallet to the receptionist, who ran me through the computer, and together they managed to shake some life into me and I managed to hop on my own to the waiting room.

My leg hurt so badly that I couldn’t sit properly, and I had to place it on the table. It was pretty disgusting, but the leg hurt so bad.

The nurse came over and said, “Hi, [My Name]! Oh, my! Wait here!”

She rushed over to the doctor’s office; I could hear her urge him to come out right away.

“Hi, [My Name],” the doctor said. “Wow, you have erysipelas. When did it start?”

“Two hours ago,” I said.

“Two hours? No, that can’t be. Can I check your arm?”

Yeah, of course, he could. I wasn’t going to use it myself, so check away.

“Wait here! There’s no need for any exam or testing.” Off he went for a couple of minutes before he returned, chatting on a cell phone. “It’s urgent! You have to rush!” he begged on the phone. Then, he turned back to me. “Okay, [My Name]. You have erysipelas, which you already know, because you know this disease better than any of us doctors here. But… you’re going into sepsis. In two hours, the sepsis has spread from your calves to your elbows. It’s really, really bad. I’ve called an ambulance.”

The ambulance arrived in less than ten minutes. I was quickly treated at the hospital and made a full recovery.

If the receptionist hadn’t squeezed me in, I would have gone to bed, instead. Considering how fast the sepsis was spreading, the outcome would not have been good. I am eternally grateful for the wonderful treatment I got that day.

A Most Unreceptive Receptionist
JERK, MEDICAL OFFICE, RECEPTION, USA | HEALTHY | FEBRUARY 17, 2020
(I have a potential diagnosis of a rare and extremely painful neurological disorder. I have to schedule with a neurologist, who lives a four-hour drive from where I live. By this point, I’ve been in severe pain for several months, and my patience for rudeness is admittedly running a bit thin.)

Me: “Hi, I’m calling to see if I need an MRI before I come down.”

Receptionist: “The doctor will inform you if you need that at the appointment.”

Me: “Yes, I understand that, but it’s a four-hour drive to see this doctor and I have to stay overnight and I’d rather not have to do it more than once.”

Receptionist: *much more snippy than is necessary* “Well, that’s not my problem, is it?”

Me: “Pardon me, but I’ve been in fairly serious pain for a while and that’s why I’m calling your office — to make sure that the appointment to get rid of my pain runs smoothly.”

Receptionist: “There’s no reason to take that tone.”

Me: “Are you f****** kidding me?!”

Receptionist: “Young lady, if you insist on using that language with me, I will disconnect the call and inform [Doctor] of your attitude, and we’ll see if you see another neurologist in this hospital.”

(I disconnected the call, had a panic attack, and then cried with my mom for an hour. No one is making a first appointment with a specialist for happy fun times. If you don’t understand that someone is probably calling because they’re in pain or sick, maybe you shouldn’t work in healthcare

She Blinded Me With Science! Kind Of.
COLLEGE & UNIVERSITY, HEALTH & BODY, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, NON-DIALOGUE, STUDENTS, TEACHERS, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 27, 2020
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

I am an exercise science major. For one of my classes, we have to perform a treadmill test on one student and use the data collected for a lab write-up.

The day of the lab, my class prior to this is also in the exercise science laboratory, so I am sitting in a chair inside when my professor walks in. She asks me to come and help her set up the lab because I did the same lab with the same professor last semester for a different class.

I go in and start to put together the headpiece that will monitor the subject’s breathing. The rest of the small class walks in — only five people — and they stand around talking amongst themselves until the professor asks them who is going to be the subject. They decide to use “nose goes” to determine who the subject will be.

I do not participate because I have gloves on to keep the headpiece sanitary — it goes inside of the subject’s mouth — and I kind of assume I am exempt from this because I am basically setting up the whole lab by myself. The only things that have to be done after this are connecting the headpiece to a tube and writing down the data that a computer collects for us.

The other students don’t care about this and tell me that I have to be the subject because I lost “nose goes.” I agree because I’m not a confrontational person due to my severe anxiety. So, the professor and one other student help me put on the headpiece. As they are putting it on, the professor tells me she is taking off my glasses to get it on, but she’ll put them back on before the test starts. The professor then gets distracted because my heart rate monitor is not working and forgets about my glasses.

This is a very big problem because I am almost legally blind with my glasses, and I try to tell her this, but I can’t speak due to the headpiece. So, they start the treadmill and I quickly realize how bad this is. The treadmill is all black, so I am unable to tell the difference between the belt and the plastic siding. During the first minute of the test, I step too far forward, partway onto the front plastic, and almost trip.

This sends me into panic mode, because I know I am going to fall, hurt myself, and completely embarrass myself by the end of this fifteen-minute test. I try to hold onto the sides of the treadmill for security, but the professor hits my hands away and tells me I can’t do this. So, I start to flap my hands, one of my stims that I use to calm myself when I get incredibly anxious.

At the three-minute mark, another student holds a paper in front of my face to determine my rating of perceived exertion, or how hard I feel the test is at this point. I try to tell them I can’t see the words on the paper, but they take me gesturing towards the paper as pointing at a specific rating and then tell me not to talk so I don’t mess up the data.

I get seven minutes into the test. My vision is going black and my heart is beating so fast I feel like I’m about to have a heart attack. I later find out that I was way above my maximum healthy heart rate and the test should have been stopped, but the students were not paying any attention to my heart rate so it went unnoticed.

I finally decide that I can no longer go on with the test and give them the indication that I need to stop. My professor asks me to go “one more minute” but then notices my heart rate and tells the other students that I need to get off the treadmill immediately. The test is stopped, the headpiece is removed, and I am able to sit in a chair. I’m shaking and hyperventilating, still feel like I’m about to have a heart attack, and am incredibly embarrassed that I was unable to complete the test and that I’m having a full-blown panic attack in front of my class.

The professor looks over the data and sees the ratings of perceived exertion that were collected when I was wildly gesturing towards the paper. She asks me, “Why did you rate these so low; wasn’t the test hard for you? You were having a hard time.”

I manage to basically hiss out between my gasps for breath, “I couldn’t see. You didn’t give me my glasses back. I’m almost blind.”

The professor shuts up and the other students get me to re-rate the test. After this, I am able to go home, thinking that this will be the end of it.

However, the professor proceeds to mention how I was unable to complete the test every week, assuming it was because I was out of shape, not because I was having a panic attack. This is so embarrassing that I end up having minor panic attacks before I go to this class every day, fearing that she is going to mention it again.

I wish there was some sort of incredible ending to this story where I stood up for myself and yelled at the professor, but due to a certain illness outbreak, I ended up having to complete the class online and did not have to deal with that professor for the rest of the semester.

People Are Waiting Longer And Longer To Have Kids
EXTRA STUPID, HOSPITAL, NURSES, PHARMACY, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 23, 2020
My dad is a clinical pharmacist before retirement. One hospital he works in for about thirty years has some nurses that are clearly in need of some extra training. The pharmacists can see the entire profile for the patient, including medications currently prescribed, what they are in the hospital for at the moment, etc.

Dad receives a prescription marked “urgent” that does not correlate with the patient’s diagnosis, and he immediately calls the nurse.

Dad: “Hi, this is [Dad] from the pharmacy. I am unable to fill the script you just sent me. Please double-check and resend it.”

Nurse: “Um, no. I sent it to you; you fill it. Do your d*** job!”

Dad: “Not happening. Have the doctor call me immediately if you won’t comply.”

Nurse: “What the f***?! How dare you insinuate I can’t do my job?!”

Dad: “Because you just requested a drug to induce labor for an eighty-five-year-old patient here for a heart attack. I’m not going to kill her.”

My dad hung up and dialed the doctor directly to get it handled.

Luckily, it was something my dad could start on while waiting on the doctor to send the CORRECT prescription and had already done so based on the semi-close names of the drugs, and the lady was okay. Unluckily, the nurse reported my dad for “unprofessional ism” and he had a long investigation started. The nurse didn’t last long.

Caution Is Important, But Um…
CURRENT EVENTS, EXTRA STUPID, HEALTH & BODY, MEDICAL OFFICE, PATIENTS, TEXAS, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 21, 2020
Me: “This is [Heart Clinic]; how can I help you?”

Patient: “I have an appointment tomorrow, and I really need to come, but I found out my aunt had [rapidly spreading illness].”

Me: “I’m so sorry to hear that! Did you have contact with your aunt?”

Patient: “No, I haven’t seen her in months.”

Me: “You had contact with someone who has seen her recently, then?”

Patient: “I haven’t had contact with anyone lately. I get my groceries delivered, even.”

Me: “Okay. So, you have to go see her, then?”

Patient: “What? No! She’s in the hospital. I can’t go see her.”

Me: “Are you having any of these symptoms?”

I read off a list of symptoms.

Patient: “As far as I know, I’m healthy as can be, except for the heart issues.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I’m confused. If you need the appointment, then why are you cancelling?”

Patient: “Because my aunt has [illness].”

Parenthood Doesn’t Come With Clairvoyance
CRAZY REQUESTS, INSURANCE, NON-DIALOGUE, PENNSYLVANIA, PITTSBURGH, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 19, 2020
My son was born with a very slight heart murmur. The pediatrician said he needed to see a cardiologist so they called one in right away. He was only an hour old.

One month later, I got a letter saying the insurance wouldn’t pay because it needed a pre-authorization twenty-four hours before the visit. I called the insurance company and said that twenty-four hours before the visit, my son was negative twenty-three hours old. They paid the claim.

He’s eighteen now, and he’s fine.

Do They Teach Entitlement In Medical School?
CALIFORNIA, CRAZY REQUESTS, DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, HOSPITAL, JERK, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 18, 2020
I work in central supply at a hospital. Besides individual items, we carry prepackaged kits.

One evening, I’m returning to the department after making my deliveries. I find a man in scrubs trying to force the door open.

Me: “Can I help you?”

Doctor: “Why is this door locked?!”

Me: “Because it’s after hours and I’m the only one here.”

I unlock the door and he follows me inside.

Doctor: “I need [Specific Brand Kit we don’t carry].”

Me: “We don’t carry [Specific Brand]; we only have [Our Brand].”

Doctor: “I don’t like [Our Brand]! I ordered [Specific Brand]! You’re supposed to have it!”

Me: “I’m sorry. We haven’t received any new products in a while.”

Doctor: “How do you know?”

Me: “Any time we get something new, my manager puts one on the dry erase board. She writes the item number and the location where it’s kept here in the department.”

He’s still not convinced, so I show him the shelves where the kits are stored. Of course, he doesn’t find the one he wants.

Doctor: “Fine. I’ll have to take one of these. I’ll need a couple of other things, too.”

He grabs a few more things and starts to leave when I stop him.

Me: “I need to know where that stuff is going.”

Doctor: *Rolling his eyes* “It’s going with me.”

Me: “You’re taking it home?”

Doctor: “No! I’m going to use it on a patient.”

Me: “Then I need the location of the patient. I have to log it in the book so the correct floor is charged.”

Doctor: “Oh. It’s going to [floor].”

I got everything logged in the book and he finally left.

We never did carry that other brand of kit.

Too Bad Money Doesn’t Spread Like Disease
CURRENT EVENTS, EMPLOYEES, HEALTH & BODY, HOSPITAL, NON-DIALOGUE, NURSES, THE NETHERLANDS | HEALTHY | JULY 12, 2020
I have to visit my local hospital. At this moment, the health crisis is still ongoing, but it is not really spreading fast or causing many deaths in my country anymore.

When you enter the hospital, there are people there who ask you what your business is and if you have any symptoms related to the illness. The way this hospital is set up is that you have a big open space right after the doors. During this time, they have taped off a section for people entering so they catch everybody going in and are able to ask them questions.

The way they set this up is that they have a couple of tables surrounded by plexiglass screens about two meters in height and U-shaped. The area for employees is further restricted by tables which sort of create corridors for people to go through. These tables are not protected by the plexiglass. The employees are standing behind those tables, calling us through. Luckily, it is not very busy and I get through easily.

When you exit, you get close to that area again. I linger a bit when I exit because I have to get some stuff in and out of my bag. As I do, I overhear a conversation.

One man asks why the hospital staff has plexiglass screens but doesn’t stand behind them, instead choosing to stand behind the unprotected tables. I take a look at the setup again and I realise that the way these areas are set up, they clearly meant for patients and visitors to go up to the front of the screens, answer the questions required, and then pass through the little artificial corridors to enter the hospital. This way, the employee would be protected at all times and never get close enough to the visitor/patient without a barrier in between them.

However, as it turns out, in order for plexiglass to stand on its own, it has to be quite thick. And what happens if you’re standing behind thick plexiglass? Well… predictably, they will have trouble hearing each other. Apparently, after trying it out, the employees realised that communication was impossible through these screens and that is why they abandoned them. I guess they still managed to stay far enough away from the patients and visitors, at least as far away as required by our laws — 1.5 meters — but it amazed me that the hospital didn’t think of the communication problem.

And for everyone asking if they couldn’t have used microphones and speakers to communicate, here’s a couple of reasons why they didn’t. This setup is in the middle of a big open space. There are no plugs anywhere near. And it is too dangerous to put a wire over that floor. On top of that, the more important reason I guess is that hospitals already don’t get much funding and, as such, are notorious cheapskates.

That Instant Karma Can Be Hard To Swallow
AUSTRALIA, CURRENT EVENTS, HEALTH & BODY, INSTANT KARMA, MEDICAL OFFICE, NON-DIALOGUE, NURSES, PRANKS | HEALTHY | JULY 11, 2020
I’m a nurse working in a drive-thru screening clinic for a widespread illness.

Getting swabbed for this illness involves a throat and nasal swab and it is not a pleasant experience at all. I try my absolute best to be friendly, courteous, gentle, and comforting to make the best of a bad situation for our patients.

And most patients are lovely.

But some are not.

I have one guy drive up with two peers in the car, and he is clearly trying to impress them with bravado.

After ranting at me that “all this s***” is just a scam and how I must like hurting people if I do this job, giving me fake, rude names, etc., we finally get around to taking his throat swab.

I have the swab in his mouth when he lets out a sudden, loud shriek, obviously with the intention of frightening me and making me jump as a “hilarious” joke.

However, due to the fact that I have the swab in his mouth, when I do jump slightly, I end up jabbing his throat with the swab.

“Mate, maybe don’t do that when I have a stick deep down in your throat, okay?” I suggest.

With his eyes downcast, looking humbled and like someone who just got poked sharply in the back of the throat, he says in a small voice, “I’m sorry.”

Ears Are Becoming Vestigial Organs These Days
CANADA, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, MEDICAL OFFICE | HEALTHY | JULY 6, 2020
I work at a clinic where we frequently send people for surgery. Sometimes we send people to the hospital for emergency surgery right from the clinic, but most often, we have their surgery scheduled anywhere between a week from when we saw them up to a few months in the future.

In these cases, we give the patient a quick explanation of the paperwork they need to fill out, as well as how the process works. When we are able to tell patients what day their surgery will be, we explain that we get the time for their surgery right from the hospital but we won’t get that information until the day before their surgery day.

One day, I am answering phones at work when I get the following call.

Caller: “Hi, I was just at the clinic and they said my dad is going to have surgery on [date], but they didn’t give us the time!” *Laughs*

Me: “We always call patients the day before their surgery in the afternoon to inform them of their surgery time.”

Caller: “Oh, that’s what the girl at the desk said.”

Me: “…”

I get that people are a little nervous and preoccupied when they are told they will need to have surgery. However, we get calls like this every single day! Some people just don’t listen, I guess.

Giving Your Children A Time-Release Heart Attack
HEALTH & BODY, HOME, NON-DIALOGUE, PARENTS/GUARDIANS, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 5, 2020
My father contacts me to let me know he is in the hospital. Something is going on with his heart; they are not sure what yet. After a lot of testing, and a lot of panic on my end, he is released with some new medication. He says they are not exactly sure what happened; he didn’t have a heart attack, though.

Fast forward several months, and the topic comes up. I ask him if they have figured out what happened that day.

“No,” he says. “Just that it was some kind of myocardial infarction.”

Cue my bio-nerdy stare of disbelief. That was the day I got to tell my engineer father that “myocardial infarction” is the technical term for a freaking heart attack!

A Most Receptive Receptionist
AWESOME WORKERS, HEALTH & BODY, MEDICAL OFFICE, NON-DIALOGUE, PATIENTS, RECEPTION, SWEDEN | HEALTHY | JULY 4, 2020
I suffer from recurring bouts of erysipelas and have had it twelve times for the past nine years. Each time, I amass a lot of fluids in my body and gain twenty to twenty-five kilograms in a couple of days, which is great fun. I then work hard to shed the unwanted weight and drop back to the original weight, only to get erysipelas again. It’s rather draining mentally.

The first time I got sick, I didn’t understand what was happening. My legs were so filled with fluid that they stopped working, and it took me four hours to drag myself from the living room out to the phone in the hallway to call for an ambulance. I ended up spending four months isolated in the hospital, and I lost all skin on my right leg, from the hip and all the way down to under my feet and around my toes. Instead, green gunk gushed out from the open wound.

It took me six months before I could walk again and I became a “frequent flyer” at my local health clinic during this time, when I also battled cancer.

About eighteen months ago, it was my best friend’s birthday and I was looking forward to visiting her. When I woke up that morning, I felt unwell, but since I had called out sick the two previous times we were supposed to meet, I didn’t want to disappoint her again. She picked me up, we went to her home, and she gushed over her gifts as I started shaking more and more violently. I fell off my chair as I couldn’t stop shuddering. My friend got this huge blanket and wrapped me in it, but I couldn’t speak as I was shaking too much. She dragged me out to her car and drove me home, where I called the health clinic.

I knew from the shaking and the state of my leg that I had erysipelas again.

I was informed by an automated message that they had filled their daily quota for walk-ins, but I was welcome to try again the next day. I knew it was erysipelas but it also felt different as it was progressing much faster than normal.

I called the national health helpline and talked to a rather snotty lady. She told me to call an ambulance right away.

I refused, as I had had erysipelas eleven times before. I knew that I just needed antibiotics and I would get better in a few days — no need for an ambulance or clogging up the emergency room with something unimportant.

So, barely conscious and shaking violently, I went out into the kitchen and made schnitzels. After all, it was what I had planned to cook that day. They were delicious, but… it was not the most logical action. I was rather delirious, though, which might excuse my lack of logical thinking.

I then called the health clinic again and spoke to the receptionist. I knew I would only need a five-minute appointment to come in, show my glaringly red leg, and get a prescription for antibiotics. Could they possibly squeeze me in?

“Yes, if you can get here at 12:45, we can fit you in.”

“Great! I’ll take the bus in ten minutes, at 12:20. See you!”

By now, my legs were swollen, filled with fluid, and horribly infected, and it was difficult to lift my feet. I used my distance walking sticks as crutches to stumble to the bus stop.

It’s only a three-minute bus ride to the health clinic.

When I entered the health clinic, the reception was deserted. A woman was seated in the waiting area but not waiting for the receptionist; I don’t know if she was the companion of another patient or waiting for her ride home. I sat down by the receptionist with my identification ready and more or less lost consciousness. I was shaking so badly. After a while, the receptionist returned. I was too ill to notice, but the other woman went up for me.

“You have to see her immediately!” the woman told the receptionist. “She’s really sick.”

She handed over my ID and my wallet to the receptionist, who ran me through the computer, and together they managed to shake some life into me and I managed to hop on my own to the waiting room.

My leg hurt so badly that I couldn’t sit properly, and I had to place it on the table. It was pretty disgusting, but the leg hurt so bad.

The nurse came over and said, “Hi, [My Name]! Oh, my! Wait here!”

She rushed over to the doctor’s office; I could hear her urge him to come out right away.

“Hi, [My Name],” the doctor said. “Wow, you have erysipelas. When did it start?”

“Two hours ago,” I said.

“Two hours? No, that can’t be. Can I check your arm?”

Yeah, of course, he could. I wasn’t going to use it myself, so check away.

“Wait here! There’s no need for any exam or testing.” Off he went for a couple of minutes before he returned, chatting on a cell phone. “It’s urgent! You have to rush!” he begged on the phone. Then, he turned back to me. “Okay, [My Name]. You have erysipelas, which you already know, because you know this disease better than any of us doctors here. But… you’re going into sepsis. In two hours, the sepsis has spread from your calves to your elbows. It’s really, really bad. I’ve called an ambulance.”

The ambulance arrived in less than ten minutes. I was quickly treated at the hospital and made a full recovery.

If the receptionist hadn’t squeezed me in, I would have gone to bed, instead. Considering how fast the sepsis was spreading, the outcome would not have been good. I am eternally grateful for the wonderful treatment I got that day.

A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 2
EMPLOYEES, ENGLAND, JERK, MEDICAL OFFICE, RECEPTION, UK | WORKING | JULY 7, 2020
I’ve recently legally changed my name but haven’t quite updated it everywhere as some places require me to physically visit them, and it’s hard to keep track of everywhere.

I’m a university student home for the summer and am made a temporary patient at the local doctors. After my appointment, I notice my name is wrong and go to ask at reception about changing it. There are two receptionists.

Me: “Hey, so, uh, my name legally changed, and I’m wondering if I need to give you guys anything to update it? I have my deed poll here.”

Receptionist #1 : “Let me see. How did you change it?”

Me: “By deed poll; I have it here.” *Holds out the paper*

Receptionist #1 : *Takes the deed poll* “Is this our copy?”

Me: “No, that’s my legal copy. Do you need it?”

[Receptionist #1 ] goes to a cupboard; I assume that’s where a photocopier is or something.

Receptionist #2 : “Wait, you’re a temporary patient. right? You need to update it with your GP up in [University City], not us.”

Me: “Oh, okay, thanks.”

I don’t move as the first receptionist is still holding my deed poll.

Receptionist #1 : “You really need to update your name. Legally, you have to.”

I hold out my hand for the deed poll.

Me: “I know. I just can’t afford to go up to [City] for one day.”

Receptionist #1 : *With a sort of “gotcha” tone* “Then how are you getting back for university? You need to change it; it can cause problems if you don’t.”

Me: “I know.”

Receptionist #2 : *Cutting in* “Their parents are probably helping them move back in; they just can’t go up a random day in summer. Hon, I’ve got it all set on the system. You’re fine. Have a good day.”

[Receptionist #1 ] said nothing and handed me my deed poll.

I thanked the second receptionist and left. I know updating my name is important, but it’s also expensive enough without having to travel just to hand over a piece of paper.

Nothing Like Being Part Of The Problem
CURRENT EVENTS, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, JERK, MEDICAL OFFICE, PATIENTS, TEXAS, USA | HEALTHY | JULY 3, 2020
Our office currently prescreens people who come in by asking them pertinent questions and reminding them to wear a mask to their appointment, where we will take their temperature.

Patient: “Hi, my name is [Patient]; I’m here for my 2:00 appointment.”

Me: “Did you bring your mask, ma’am?”

Patient: “I didn’t know I needed one.”

We have her marked as prescreened, so I know she was reminded.

Me: “That’s okay; we have extra masks so I can give you one to wear.”

I hand her one and wait for her to put it on, but she just stands there.

Me: “Ma’am, if you’ll put the mask on, I can continue checking you in.”

The patient makes a face, but puts it on.

Patient: “All my information is the same.”

Me: “Okay, and your cell phone is [number]? Okay, I have you checked in. If you’ll have a seat in your vehicle, a nurse will call you in when we have a room ready.”

Patient: “In my car? You want me to sit outside in my car?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. We want to limit our lobby to elderly to help against extra contact. We also suggest people call from their vehicles to speed the process and make it easier.”

We would have told her this when we called to prescreen her, as well.

Me: “If you don’t have AC, then we understand if you need to sit in here.”

Patient: “Yes, I have AC!”

She sits down in the lobby anyway, and we get a large influx of people coming in and out for their appointments. At one point, she comes back to the window.

Patient: “How soon is my appointment? I’ve been here for twenty minutes already and there’s been a ton of people going through here.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, that’s why we suggest patients sit in their vehicles. You have two others in front of you, so if you want to sit out there, we can help you limit your contact with others and call you in when we’re ready, okay?”

She sits down again and waits until it’s her turn to go back, which is almost another thirty minutes later, and only ten minutes past her appointment.

Patient: *As she passes me* “You should have told me you were going to have so many people in the lobby. I didn’t feel safe at all. Next time, tell me to sit in my car.”

A Dizzying Ordeal
EMPLOYEES, HEALTH & BODY, LAZY/UNHELPFUL, PHARMACY, UK | HEALTHY | JULY 1, 2020
I have had vertigo on and off since I caught a bug in 2017. I usually bed rest and it goes away after a few hours. I have a bout of it in May 2019; it’s just not going after two days and my anxiety over it is making it worse.

I call the doctor and his receptionist says as it’s an existing condition I can have a telephone consult. Two minutes after I put the phone down, the doctor calls back and says he’ll send an electronic prescription to the local pharmacy. I can’t drive. I can only just stand, but the pharmacy is seven minutes’ walk, so I figure I’ll stagger up to the pharmacy, get the meds, and then stagger next door to the tea room, take the tablets with a drink there, and wait for them to kick in so I can walk home. My friend runs the tea room and will let me sit quietly in the corner.

So, the plan is made, and after fifteen minutes of stumbling up the road with the world spinning, I get to the pharmacy and hang off a display unit for another ten minutes until it’s my turn.

Assistant: “How can I help you?”

Me: “I’ve come to collect a prescription that the doctor has just sent through electronically as urgent for me.”

Assistant: “I’ll go look.”

She disappears for ten minutes. By the time she returns, I’m almost lying on the counter as my head is spinning so much.

Assistant: “No, there’s no prescription for you.”

Me: “Can you check, please? The doctor said he would send it through as urgent.”

Assistant: “Well, if you insist.”

Me: *Through gritted teeth* “Yes, I do!”

She goes away again and comes back after another ten minutes, by which time I’m starting to feel nauseous.

Assistant: “No prescription. When did the doctor send it through?”

Me: “As I said, he has just sent it through as urgent. Just now.”

Assistant: “Why didn’t you say?”

Me: “I did.”

Assistant: “Oh, we don’t look at the electronic ones until the afternoon. Can you come back in two days?”

Me: “I have chronic vertigo. I can’t see too well, and I can’t stand up, walk, or lie down. The doctor has prescribed these as urgent. No, I can’t come back in two days!”

Assistant: “Are you insisting that you have your prescription made up now?”

Me: “You think?”

She looks blankly at me.

Me: “Yes, I am. Please make it up now or I will throw up and collapse here.”

Assistant: *Sighs* “If you insist. Can you go sit over there?” *Points at a chair behind a pillar* “You are stopping other people getting their prescriptions.”

I looked at her as if she had lost the plot and went to sit in the chair and lean on the pillar which was nice and cold on my head.

After another thirty minutes, still no prescription. I staggered over and asked the assistant how much longer it would be as it was now nearly an hour since I’d gotten there. She told me to go sit down and wait.

I stumbled back. After another thirty minutes, a different assistant came over with a clipboard and asked me to fill out a customer satisfaction surgery. I must have looked shocked and possibly homicidal at this point, as she said in a caring way, “Are you okay, love?”. I explained that I’d been there all morning waiting for my urgent prescription. She grabbed the clipboard out of my hands and dashed off. She came straight back with my prescription made up.

She explained that the pharmacist had started to make it up but had been called to the telephone. Then, it was given to the assistant pharmacist who started it, too, and then went to early lunch. The assistant I’d been dealing with had gone out on her break and it had been forgotten, and because I was behind the pillar, they had forgotten me.

This different assistant had been filling a display up, saw what looked like a dead woman on the chair, and brought over the survey as a way to talk to me. I dry-swallowed two of the tablets as she spoke, staggered home hours after I had left, and finally collapsed in bed. About thirty minutes later, the tablets kicked in and I filled the survey out in line with very honest replies.

Two days later, I moved to having my prescriptions filled by post — they come three days after you request them — and for urgent, I now send my husband.

Let’s Hope They’re A Better Nurse Than A Communicator
CALIFORNIA, EXTRA STUPID, HOSPITAL, LANGUAGE & WORDS, NURSES, USA | HEALTHY | JUNE 28, 2020
I work at a hospital in the central supply department. We carry just about everything: patient care items such as deodorant or slippers, first aid supplies like bandages or gauze, large items like crutches or commodes, and everything in between. Basically, if the nurses carry it in the supply closet, it probably came from us.

One night, I get a call from a nurse on the fourth floor.

Me: “Central Supply, this is [My Name].”

Nurse: “Yeah… is this Central Supply?”

I can feel my eye twitch.

Me: “Yes. Can I help you?”

Nurse: “I’m looking for… a… thing.”

Me: “Okay. What kind of thing?”

Nurse: “It’s plastic. It comes in a package.”

Me: *Putting on my best customer service voice* “That’s about 75% of our inventory. Can you tell me what it’s used for?”

Nurse: “It’s plaaaastic. It comes in a paaaackage.”

Me: “IV tubing?”

Nurse: “No.”

Me: “Catheter?”

Nurse: “No.”

Me: “Oxygen tubing?”

Nurse: “No. It’s plastic. It comes in a package.”

This goes on for a few minutes with me trying to guess the item or trying to get her to describe it to me. The nurse keeps giving me the same answer; only the pronunciation of the words “plastic” and “package” changes.

Me: “Do you have an empty package I could look at?”

Nurse: “No.”

Me: “Is there more than one in the package?”

Nurse: “It’s plastiiiiic. It comes in a packaaaaaage.”

Me: “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re asking for. You’re welcome to come down and look around. Or maybe you could ask one of the other nurses.”

Nurse: “I—”

Me: “I’m getting a call on the other line from the ER. I have to get it. Let me know if you find out what it’s called. Okay. Bye.”

Fortunately, the call from the ER is an easy one. But as soon as I get off the phone with them, I receive another call from the fourth floor.

Me: “Central Supply, this is [My Name].”

Charge Nurse: “Hi, this is [Charge Nurse] from [department].”

Me: “Hi. How can I help you?”

Charge Nurse: “Do you carry water pitcher liners?”

A light bulb goes off and my customer service filter vanishes.

Me: “Oh! Is that what she wanted?!”

Charge Nurse: *Chuckling* “Yeah.”

Me: “Yes. We have those; I’ll bring some right up.”

Not the strangest call I had while I worked there, but definitely the most frustrating.