Good Thing Bad Parenting Isn’t Contagious
HEALTH & BODY, LAZY/UNHELPFUL, PARENTS/GUARDIANS, SCHOOL, USA | HEALTHY | JANUARY 23, 2021
I work for a school for students with special needs. Most of the parents are great, but some are idiots.
I am working in a first-grade classroom. One of the teachers takes one of the kids to the bathroom while I am helping the other teacher hand out breakfast. We suddenly hear a small scream, and the teacher comes out, holding the kid under the armpits.
Teacher: “He’s got ringworm! Get him to the nurse, quick!”
I grab the kid and take him to the nurse’s office, which is a closed-off area of the main admin office. The nurse is just about to go on her medication rounds but quickly checks the student, confirming it is ringworm, and goes to call his mother. It’s a small office so I hear the whole conversation while I keep the kid entertained.
Nurse: “Hello, [Mother], we just discovered that your son has ringworm. Could you please come get him?”
Mother: “Yes, I know. I saw it this morning.”
Nurse: “Excuse me?!”
Mother: “I put a bandaid on it. Didn’t you see?”
Nurse: “Ma’am, you cannot cure ringworm with a bandaid. You need to pick up your son and bring him home. He cannot return to school until a doctor confirms that the ringworm is gone.”
Mother: “I’m at work.”
Nurse: “You still need to come pick him up and take him home. How soon can you be here?”
Mother: “I’m at work; I can’t get him. He has to stay there for today.”
Nurse: “No, you need to pick him up. He has a contagious fungal infection and cannot stay here!”
Mother: “I’m at work.” *Hangs up*
The nurse turns back to me in shock.
Nurse: “Can you believe this?!”
Me: “Yes, but good news: she doesn’t work. She brings [Student] a hot lunch every day, so she’ll be here in a few hours.”
The nurse just looks at me, incredulous, but then goes out to the secretary and talks to her before coming back in and filling me in on the plan. She then leaves for her rounds, leaving me to watch the student and keep him isolated.
After two hours, when it’s almost time for our class’s lunchtime, the student’s mother drives up. The nurse has just returned, and she and the secretary leap into action.
The secretary lets the mother in but then stands by the door to the outside. The nurse comes out of her office, leading the student. I stand by the door leading into the school, blocking anyone from getting in.
The nurse marches up to the mother, who is dressed in a T-shirt, yoga pants, and flip-flops — definitely NOT a working uniform — and holds the student out to her.
Nurse: “Your son has a fungal infection that is contagious via skin contact and he cannot return here until you have a doctor’s note stating that the infection is one-hundred percent cleared up. It will be at least a week. Make sure your doctor includes a phone number because I will be calling to check and be sure [Student] was cleared. You may go now.”
The mother silently took her son and exited via the door the secretary was holding open for her. The student did return fully healed, but she never tried to pull that trick again!
Order Matters Word!
FUNNY, MEDICAL OFFICE, USA, WORDPLAY | HEALTHY | JANUARY 22, 2021
Our electronic medical records program has a screen where we fill in details regarding prescriptions and it puts together the sig from that information. Sometimes the providers don’t pay attention to the output. Here’s an actual prescription I caught that had been sent several times before I did:
Prescription: “Take one tablet to make it easier to urinate orally, once a day.”
I’m sure the pharmacists got a laugh every few months when that came through!
Taking “Sharing Is Caring” To Another Level
AWESOME, CHILDREN, HOSPITAL, INSPIRATIONAL, MARYLAND, USA | HEALTHY | JANUARY 21, 2021
About a decade ago, I decided to donate my kidney as a non-directed donor, meaning I didn’t know the person who would get the kidney; the hospital picked him. Knowing that I volunteered with children and had a real soft spot for them, the hospital recommended a twenty-two-month-old child as the person to receive the kidney.
The surgery went fine and I got to meet the child for the first time a month after the surgery. I thought this would be the only time I would meet the child.
A number of years later, I get a surprise call from the pediatric department of the hospital where I donated. They are doing a reunion party where they get together kidney donors and kidney recipients, and they want to know if I would like to attend. Excited at the chance to meet the child again, I agree to attend.
When they finally arrive at the party, while their mother is busy signing in, the boy and his twin brother wander into the party and apparently recognize me. The one that I actually donated the kidney to is a bit shy at first about meeting me, not so much his brother.
Twin Brother: “Are you the one that gave my brother the kidney?”
Me: “Yes, I was.”
Without saying anything else, he runs up to me and gives me a gigantic hug.
Twin Brother: “Thank you!”
His brother seems a bit unsure how he is supposed to interact with his kidney donor at first, but I have enough experience with kids that I am able to get him to open up soon enough. Eventually, the brothers are excitedly dragging me around to face painting and all the other activities they have for the party.
Boy: “Where did you get the extra kidney from?”
Me: “Everyone is born with two kidneys, but we only really need one, so they took my left kidney out of me and put it in you, and I keep using my right kidney.”
Boy: “How did they get it out?”
Me: “They cut a hole in my belly button and then stuck a machine in through it which they used to cut my kidney out and pull it out through my belly button. Then they did the same thing to you to put the kidney into you.”
Brother: “Did it hurt?”
Me: “They put me asleep when they cut the kidney out, so I didn’t feel anything then. It did hurt a few days after, but it got much better after the third day. It was worth it to help.”
Kid: “Oh.”
The kid stands there, clearly thinking about that for a few more seconds.
Kid: “Thank you.”
By the end of the party, both twins were asking if I could come visit them again. Since I love kids anyway, I told them I’d be willing to, but I didn’t want to impose, so I told them I could only if their mother wanted to invite me. I heard the kids tell their mother that they wanted me to visit, but I never did get an invite to visit them from her. It’s been many years since then, but I hope, wherever they are, both kids are still as happy and healthy as they were the last time we met.
Wrap This Person In Bubble Wrap!
AUSTRALIA, BIZARRE, FAST FOOD, HEALTH & BODY | HEALTHY | JANUARY 21, 2021
CONTENT WARNING: Major Injury
I am accident-prone. I mean, REALLY accident-prone. I have broken most of the bones in my body at least once — some, in the case of my nose and fingers, multiple times. I have screws and plates all through my body. There’s nothing wrong with my bones, either, if you need further proof of what a disaster magnet I am.
In the highlights of my list of “big injuries”:
I was hit by a drunk driver and dragged two blocks when I was eight years old. It took me months to learn how to walk again. I fell down a set of stairs in high school and broke both my legs. I was ADJACENT to a car crash as a pedestrian and had all my ribs broken by a flying tyre. I was attacked by a pack of dogs when I was a toddler that somehow got past two locked six-foot gates. I was the only one injured when my first workplace burned down, despite being one of the first out the door. I was standing in the evacuation area with thirteen other people when the gas canister exploded, and guess who was the only person hit with glass and shrapnel? Me.
I am not exaggerating the disaster magnet thing. My husband is well versed in emergency rooms and surgery waiting areas.
I start working at a fast food place. My husband waits for the inevitable call that I have been horrifically burned by the fryer or somehow run over in the drive-thru.
One night, I’m working overnight. My husband is peacefully sleeping when he gets a call from my manager. He groggily answers the phone.
Husband: “Hello?”
Manager: “Hey, man. Um, [My Name] has just left here in an ambulance. She asked me to ask you to meet her at the hospital and bring her emergency bag?”
My husband gets out of bed and starts to grab my always packed emergency bag.
Husband: “Yep, on it, mate. Hey, what happened?”
Manager: “She, uh… She broke her hip.”
Husband: *Pause* “I gotta say, out of everything I expected, that wasn’t it.”
Yep. I had slipped on a puddle of grease and slid the exact wrong way with my leg twisted. It had dislocated, and then I landed on it full force and rolled. After surgery and rehab, I was okay, but my husband LOVES to tell people I broke my hip flipping burgers.
The Special Circumstances Are That This Nurse Is A Jerk
BAD BEHAVIOR, ILLINOIS, MEDICAL OFFICE, NURSES, USA | HEALTHY | JANUARY 20, 2021
My youngest has a form of club footing. We have been seeing a wonderful doctor, but he has moved states. We want to keep seeing him but need special permission from our insurance sent by her pediatrician. I call the office and talk to the head nurse.
Me: “My daughter’s orthopedist has moved states, but we want to keep seeing him. I talked to my insurance, and they claim that if my pediatrician sends in a ‘special circumstances’ form that they will waive the out-of-network fee. Can you please do that?”
Head Nurse: “Sure. We’ll send in for the special preauthorization today.” *Hangs up*
Ten days later, the preauthorization paperwork comes in the mail, and I instantly see a problem. I call the insurance company to see if it was an oversight on their end.
Representative: “Thank you for calling [Insurance Company]; I’m [Representative]. How may I assist you today?”
Me: “I just got my preauthorization to continue seeing my orthopedist of choice, but there’s an issue. It says his previous place of employment, and he moved states. I was just checking to see if it was an oversight.”
Representative: “Oh, I see. Can you please verify your identification so I can proceed?”
Me: “Certainly.”
I complete the three-step verification.
Representative: “I see what happened. Your pediatrician’s office didn’t fill out the proper paperwork. I’ll send it over to them so it can be corrected. Is there anything else I can assist with?”
Me: “Only for you to have a fantastic day. You have assisted me wonderfully, thank you.” *Hangs up*
Five days later, the head nurse calls me and immediately has an attitude that I would classify as an annoyed parent talking to a toddler.
Head Nurse: “[My Name]? This is [Head Nurse]. We received some paperwork to fill out from your insurance stating that you want special circumstance paperwork filled out to keep seeing your orthopedist. Care to explain that to me?”
Me: “Yes. As I said two weeks ago, our preferred orthopedist moved from his previous office to another one in a different state. He did a great job with her first surgery, and we want to keep him for her subsequent surgeries. The only way that can happen is if you guys fill out the paperwork that was sent to you.”
Head Nurse: “You most certainly did not tell me anything like that two weeks ago. There are perfectly okay doctors that can handle her ‘issues’.”
When she says, “issues,” she changes her tone to sound more sarcastic.
Me: “I understand that they’re okay, but if I move to another orthopedist, then we have to again have a preliminary visit and brace trial and error before her next surgery, which could take months again. If you fill that paperwork out, I can get her the much-needed surgery within the month. Her orthopedist is just sitting on go for the paperwork to be sent in. Please, can you have the doctor fill out the paperwork so she isn’t forced to wait unnecessarily for the surgery that will let her finally walk after years of her crawling only?!”
Head Nurse: “I will not send this paperwork for the doctor to fill out. The preauthorization you already have will work just fine for a doctor at the office you’ve been accepted to. You don’t need to see him just because you feel like it.”
Me: “I am not going to accept a ‘just okay’ doctor when my current orthopedist knows her issues well and is ready to do the surgery. If you don’t understand why it frustrates me that you won’t have the doctor sign the paperwork, and you’re forcing her months longer of just crawling, then I’ll make an appointment to see the pediatrician to have her fill the form out.”
Head Nurse: “I’m sorry that you don’t understand me. I will have the form shredded before the appointment and a call in to the insurance company that you changed your mind. With my call, you will be ineligible for another ‘special circumstances’ form for twelve months. Goodbye.”
Yes, she did put in to the insurance that I didn’t want the original orthopedist, so it’d be 100% out of pocket, upwards of $500,000, and I couldn’t get another form for twelve months. I reported her for her unprofessionalism, but nothing seems to have come from it; she was there when I brought my other child to her check-up. Joke’s on her, though; I got accepted at the leading non-profit hospital and don’t have to go through that office for pre-authorization again. I also don’t have to go through the rigorous multiple appointments and brace attempts before surgery.
Won’t Be Stuck Here For Long
HEALTH & BODY, KIND STRANGERS, MEDICAL OFFICE, NEW JERSEY, STUPID, USA | HEALTHY | JANUARY 19, 2021
I am newly divorced. I am also quite stubborn and make a decent attempt at home repairs on my own. This is not one of my shining moments.
I attempt to fix a leaking pipe under a sink using my hot glue gun. Don’t ask. I make a serious error in judgment and end up with hot melted glue completely covering my index finger and partially covering the middle and ring fingers of my right hand. The pain is immediate and intense. I quickly get ice and water in a glass and dunk my fingers into it. It is the only thing that stops the pain. I cannot pull the thick layer of glue off my fingers without perhaps removing a layer of skin. I quickly call my private physician’s office and explain what happened and that I was on my way. They encourage me to visit the emergency room at the hospital, but I tell them that I much prefer to see my physician individually.
I drive myself — manual transmission with my fingers still dipped in the ice water — to my doctor, who is luckily only five minutes away. When I walk into the waiting room, it is packed. As I do not have an appointment, I know I am in for quite a wait. I check in and sit down. Within about ten minutes, the ice in my glass melts and the water quickly becomes room temperature. The horrible pain returns. I go to the receptionist.
Me: “Excuse me. I have some rather bad burns on my fingers. Can you get me some ice for my water?”
Receptionist: “Sure will.”
She returns with three small ice cubes. I know it is not going to last long, but I accept what I can get. Unfortunately, it only takes a few minutes before that ice also melted. Not wanting to be a bother, I resign myself to the pain. Within five minutes, it is overwhelming. As a purely physical reaction, I lean over in my chair between my legs and start rocking back and forth over the floor.
After a few minutes of watching me do this, a man in the waiting room apparently has enough. He approaches the receptionist.
Man: “Ma’am, you need to get this young lady back to see the doctor immediately. She is in obvious pain, and she needs to jump the line.”
Woman: *From her chair* “Yes, please get her back to the doctor right away.”
The rest of the waiting room chimed in agreement. A nurse came within moments and brought me to an exam room. The doctor gave me some pain medication. As I sat, the water softened my skin and I was slowly able to peel the glue off without causing further damage. I ended up with serious second-degree burns to my three fingers. It took weeks to heal completely but eventually did. Fortunately, the worst of the pain subsided within a few hours.
I am still thankful to those kind strangers who allowed me to jump in front of their appointments. They may never know how much they helped me that day.
We Think We May Actually Be Speechless
BAD BEHAVIOR, DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, MINNESOTA, OPTOMETRIST/OPTICIAN, USA | HEALTHY | JANUARY 18, 2021
I’m having my first eye test in a few years and the doctor gives me the colorblind test to flip through. I surprisingly stumble on a few of them, and my wife comments that she’s noticed I tend to confuse certain colors.
Doctor: “You’re not fully colorblind, but you do have something there. Probably a muted form inherited from your father. Does he have trouble with colors?”
Me: “Not that I know of, but he doesn’t really—”
Doctor: *Interrupting me* “Oh, then he’s not your father because you’re definitely a little colorblind. Women have to inherit the gene from both parents. I wonder who your real father is.”
Me: “Did you really just say that to me?”
It turned out that I have tritanomaly, which can come from a blow to the head — and I was bucked off a few horses in my life — OR can be inherited if both your parents at least carry the gene as it’s a mutation. So, it turns out that it IS possible for a non-colorblind man to father a colorblind(ish) daughter!
The Whole Head Will Have To Go
DENTIST, GEORGIA, USA, WORDPLAY | HEALTHY | JANUARY 16, 2021
I’m at the dentist having some work done. The dentist has just placed a permanent crown in and is attempting to floss around it. Unfortunately, the floss keeps getting stuck because of the cement. He asks his assistant to hand him a tool to help and it isn’t exactly one I was expecting.
Dentist: “Pass me the saw.”
I’m surprised and try to figure out if I heard right.
Dentist: “It has what looks like little saw teeth on it.”
Nope, I definitely heard right. Once she handed it to him, I could see that it was a very thin, flexible piece of metal with tiny teeth. It reminded me of a band saw blade. He used it to go between the crown and the tooth next to it to break up the excess cement. It worked perfectly, but it was not something I considered a dentist having.
Russian To Ridiculous Conclusions
CRIMINAL & ILLEGAL, EDITORS' CHOICE, JERK, MEDICAL OFFICE, USA | HEALTHY | JANUARY 13, 2021
I work at a healthcare clinic as a receptionist. Due to HIPAA policies, whenever I call a client, I have to confirm I am actually speaking to the client. If I am speaking to someone else, I am not allowed to disclose the reason I am calling. I typically say something generic like, “This is the doctor’s office.” This doesn’t always soothe people’s curiosities, though.
Me: “Hello, is [Client] there?”
Caller: “No, she is busy.”
Me: “Okay. This is the doctor’s office. Can you ask her to call us back?”
Caller: “The doctor’s? Which doctor?”
Me: “I am not allowed to say. Can I leave a callback number?”
Caller: “You’re not allowed to say? What is this? Russia?”
I guess following the federal American law of not giving away personal information is considered by some to be an act of Communism?
Do A Little Brain Labor Here
MEDICAL OFFICE, PATIENTS, STUPID, TEXAS, USA | HEALTHY | NOVEMBER 5, 2020
I work in an obstetrics/gynecology clinic. My coworker answers the phone.
Coworker: “So, you think your water broke? Hang on while I get a nurse.”
I’m talking to another patient while listening to her. My coworker talks to a nurse and comes back to the phone.
Coworker: “Wait, so you’re at the hospital? No, you need to stay there and get evaluated. We can’t do anything here at the clinic. Stay at the hospital.”
I could only close my eyes, as hearing that one-sided conversation gave me a headache.
An Im-Patient Doctor
CANADA, CURRENT EVENTS, DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, JERK, MANITOBA | HEALTHY | NOVEMBER 1, 2020
At eighteen, I was diagnosed with ADHD. Over the years, I’ve used different coping mechanisms to stay organized to varying degrees of effectiveness. I probably could have benefited from medications but felt like it wasn’t affecting my life too negatively.
Once the global health crisis hit, I was laid off.
When my industry reopens, the myriad of new regulations, sanitizing steps, changes to daily practice, and dealing with the public who may or may not have strong opinions on the rules all lead to my stress levels rising and my ADHD becoming more unmanageable. Brain fog and memory issues rise through the roof. Now, at thirty-six years old, I’ve decided to talk to a psychiatrist to look into medication options.
These are some highlights from my very frustrating two-hour appointment where I feel like I am defending the legitimacy of my diagnosis.
Doctor: “Your teachers never complained about you?”
Me: “No, but I still struggled in my classes.”
Doctor: “No one talked to your parents and your teachers never complained, so it couldn’t have been that bad.”
Also:
Doctor: “You studied subjects that required a lot of academic focus in college. So it couldn’t have been that bad.”
Me: “I ended up dropping out because I couldn’t maintain my GPA. I only did well in the classes I liked and needed for my degree. I failed the mandatory Bible classes everyone had to take.”
Bible college was a bad choice.
Also:
Doctor: “Do you ever have issues with distractibility?”
Me: “Sometimes I forget I’m hungry and I go all day without eating. Suppertime rolls around and I can’t figure out why I’m starving, and then I realize I might not have eaten at all that day.”
Doctor: “GOOD FOR YOU!”
Also:
Me: “My work has been really affected. All the new rules and regulations because of the health crisis have caused me to forget a lot of important things and it’s causing my performance to suffer.”
Doctor: “The crisis has changed everyone’s jobs. Your job isn’t that hard, anyway, not like a secretary. You don’t even need to concentrate that hard, not like a secretary.”
Also:
Doctor: “So why did you look for a diagnosis? Who referred you?”
Me: “My dad and my little sister both have it. I’ve had many of the same issues as my sister. She was diagnosed with dyslexia in kindergarten and they found out about her ADHD during those tests. At the time, I was just the chatty, loud, fidgety kid. I flew under the radar until years later when I realized I probably had it, as well. That’s why I looked into it.”
Doctor: “So why did you go looking for a diagnosis?”
Me: “Because it ran in my family? As I said, I already have a dad and sister with it, and I wanted to know before I went to college so I could be prepared during exams if I needed academic accommodations.”
I was close to tears a couple of times, and after I hung up, I realized I had been on the phone with him for two hours. I was so frustrated and upset. I talked with some friends about what happened and they all told me I should make a complaint.
I contacted my hospital’s Patient Experience Liaison as soon as I felt mentally ready. After an investigation, they found that I got an accurate assessment but his tone and wording did need to be addressed.
The doctor approached me and said he was sorry that I’d had such a negative experience and would use my complaints to focus on self-improvements. The director of the unit said my experience would be used to help teach students the importance of proper communication.
It’s in my file that I will never be scheduled with that doctor again.
There might not have been drastic changes, but I’m happy it’s on his record, and I hope that if others have issues with him, they also file reports.
They Didn’t Sign Up For This
AWESOME, COURIER, EMPLOYEES, LAZY/UNHELPFUL, NORTHERN IRELAND, PHARMACY | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 28, 2020
I take medication which is supplied by a contractor. It is fragile, so it is delivered by a courier in a refrigerated van. When the supplier phones me to organise delivery, I ask them to deliver it to my local pharmacy so I don’t have to be there.
This happens for months without issue. One day, I’m at work and I receive a voicemail.
Voicemail: “Hi, [My Name], this is [Courier]. Unfortunately, you are not present to sign for the delivery, so I’m taking it back to the depot. Please phone [number] to reschedule when you are available.”
I don’t understand. Normally, the pharmacist signs for it, so why not this time? After work, I visit the pharmacist.
Me: “Hi, [Pharmacist]. What happened with [medicine]?”
Pharmacist: “The courier asked for you to sign for it. His instructions said, ‘Patient must sign.’ I tried explaining that in the context of a pharmacy, the pharmacist can sign for it. That’s my job. He insisted that it must be you.”
Me: “So he expected me to wait here all day?”
Pharmacist: “Apparently, yes. You may wish to reschedule it.”
I phone the supplier. The representative sounds embarrassed.
Supplier: “Mr. [My Surname], I’m very sorry. The notes do indeed say, ‘Patient must sign,’ so technically, he was doing what he was told. He may be new.”
Me: “These things happen. Can you reschedule the delivery, please?”
Supplier: “Of course. It will be delivered on [date]. I’ve changed the instructions to say, ‘Patient or pharmacist must sign.’ He has no excuses.”
The day after [date], I go to the pharmacy.
Me: “Hi, [Pharmacist]. Do you have my [medicine], delivered yesterday?”
Pharmacist: *Confused* “No? Nothing came, and I was here all day.”
This is now a problem. I am due to take the medicine tomorrow, but I have none left. I phone the supplier. I wait in a queue for forty minutes. My tone of voice is polite, but very, very direct.
Me: “What is your first name, please?”
Representative: “[Representative].”
Me: “Hello, [Representative]. I would like to speak to a manager, please.”
Representative: “What happened?”
Me: “I was due a delivery of [medicine] yesterday. It did not come. This is the second time in a row. Last time, the muppet of a driver thought that the pharmacist wasn’t qualified to sign for it.”
Representative: “Seriously?”
Me: “Seriously. Maybe the pharmacist said something like, ‘I went to pharmacy school for seven years; I think I know how to put a tube of [medicine] in the fridge.’ Anyway, the courier just took it back to the depot, and now another delivery has been missed.”
Representative: “Oh, dear. When do you need it by?”
Me: “I’m due to take it tomorrow. Thanks to the courier’s mistake, I don’t have any to take. I’m sure you understand that prescription medication must be taken as advised. I do not intend to find out what happens if I am late taking it.”
Representative: “I think the delivery was missed due to a mixup with a new computer system.”
Me: “Right, we’ll deal with the complaint later. How quickly can you get [medicine] to me?”
Representative: “We have no delivery slots today.”
Me: “I have a car. Can I collect it from the depot? I’ll get a coolbox to keep it refrigerated.”
Representative: “Oh… I— I honestly don’t know. I’ve never been asked that before. Can you hold? It might be a while.”
Me: “Take as long as you need.”
I start weeding my front yard. Thirty minutes later:
Representative: “Mr. [My Surname]?”
Me: “Call me [My First Name]. How did you do?”
Representative: “You can’t collect it from the depot, for security reasons. Instead, I will try and contract a special courier. It won’t be the courier we normally deal with. I’ll need to call round again. Can you hold, please?”
Me: “Take as long as you need.”
Anyway, I search for the depot online, just in case. I find it immediately, ten km away. Thirty-five minutes later:
Representative: “Hi, [My First Name]. I’ve had to phone about fourteen departments, but I found a courier. You will receive the delivery today. Can you please remain at your house all day?”
Me: “I’ll be in all day. Out of interest, what is the ‘security reason’? Do they not want people knowing where the depot is?”
Representative: “No, we had a break-in once. Something like £100,000 medicine was stolen, so we have strict rules on visitors now.”
Me: “Oh. That kind of makes sense, because this medicine costs £700 a time. Thank you very much for your patience. How do you spell your name?”
They spell their name for me.
Me: “I’ll tell your employer what a good job you have done.”
Representative: “Thank you very much!”
An hour later, a man arrived at my house with [medicine], and I finished weeding my yard.
He’s Getting Warmer… And Colder
COWORKERS, FACTORY/INDUSTRIAL, HEALTH & BODY, NEW HIRES, NORTHERN IRELAND | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 26, 2020
I’m an IT technician in a factory. My female colleague is heavily pregnant at the moment and has been suffering from Hyperemesis Gravidarum, so she’s doing a mixture of remote working and on-site working with significantly reduced hours. She only comes on-site if she feels well enough to do so.
Today is one of her better days, so she’s on-site. I’ve just come back from a job. My female colleague is nowhere to be seen, but all her stuff is sitting on her desk so she can’t be too far away. We have a placement student in our office at the moment, a lad in his early twenties. He’s a very capable IT technician but not yet very world wise.
Me: “Hey, [Student], where’s [Female Colleague]? Is she okay?”
Student: “She’s in the bathroom throwing up again.”
I flinch at his apparent lack of sensitivity and realise that, as the most senior person in our office, I may have to have words with him about this.
Student: “Hey, [My Name], I’m worried.”
Me: “Oh, about what?”
Student: “[Female Colleague] has been vomiting a lot. Every day she’s in, she keeps running to the bathroom to vomit. I’m worried about her; that’s not normal.”
Me: “No, [Student], you’re right. It’s not normal. But she has Hyperemesis Gravidarum, which means she’ll vomit a lot because of her pregnancy.”
Student: “But I don’t get it. When my sister was pregnant with my niece, she had morning sickness and it was nothing like as bad as this!”
Me: “Yeah, but this isn’t morning sickness, mate. It’s worse. A lot worse. Oh, and try and be a little bit more sensitive about it, yeah? It can’t be easy for her.”
Student: “Yeah, but it’s not normal!”
Me: *Sighing* “Of course, it’s not normal! That’s the point. She has… Look, just never mind, okay? Try and show a bit of sensitivity.”
I sat down at my desk, having given up trying to explain it to him. [Student] sat for a few minutes muttering, “It’s not normal…” until [Female Colleague] came back, red-faced, tearful, and feeling sorry for herself. I sat her down and got her a drink of water.
To [Student]’s credit, he DID later leave the room and come back with an ice lolly (popsicle) for [Female Colleague]! Clearly, in spite of his cluelessness, he’d been paying enough attention to realise that ice lollies were one of the few solids she was actually able to keep down. He later told me that he felt sorry for her and wanted to try to make her feel better. She seemed to really appreciate the gesture.
Kindness Isn’t The Best Medicine, But It Can Help You Buy It
ALBERTA, CANADA, EDMONTON, INSPIRATIONAL, KIND STRANGERS, MONEY, PHARMACY | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 24, 2020
I walk into the pharmacy to pick up my husband’s medication. Up until now, we’ve had pretty decent prescription coverage. When I arrive, there are three people there: a husband and wife and the wife’s elderly mother.
While our pharmacist is checking our insurance, we discover that my husband’s medication is no longer covered, which is a problem, as we don’t have the money to cover the full price this month. I start to worry and panic. By this point, the husband, wife, and mother have left the pharmacy already.
A few moments later, the pharmacy phone rings.
Me: “Go ahead and answer it while I figure out what I’m going to do.”
After she hangs up, she looks at me.
Pharmacist #1 : “That was the woman that was here earlier with her husband and her mother. She’s offered to cover the rest of the cost of the medication you need.”
My heart soars and I tear up. I pay for what I can: $50 out of the original $110.
I think that is the end of it and I am so grateful. After I get home, I text my other pharmacist and ask him to thank the wife for me profusely. About twenty minutes later, the pharmacist calls me back.
Pharmacist #2 : “The woman called us back, and she insisted that we give you your money back. She insisted on paying completely for your medication.”
I cried in my living room. I told my husband what had just happened and he couldn’t believe it.
We had never met these people before; they did this purely out of the goodness of their hearts. Wherever you and your family are, please know that my husband and I are eternally grateful for you. You really helped us out in a tight spot!
Many Hands Make Light Work
EMERGENCY SERVICES, INSPIRATIONAL, KIND STRANGERS, NEIGHBORS, NEW JERSEY, USA, WEATHER | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 22, 2020
I used to volunteer with my town’s first aid squad. Most of the calls would be relatively minor in nature, but every once in a while, a true life-or-death emergency would occur.
This story occurs on the day of a blizzard with over twelve inches of snow already on the ground. We get a call for chest pain and begin to head toward the house as quickly as is safely possible. As we get onto side streets, a township snow plow meets up with us to plow the road in front of the ambulance.
We arrive at the house to see a driveway on a steep incline that is, of course, covered with snow. We all make our way up without falling and go into the house. We find a patient having a true heart emergency and in need of the hospital immediately. Our team leader takes over.
Team Leader: “[Colleague #1 ] and [Colleague #2 ], go get the snow shovels out of the rig and start making a pathway to get [Patient] out. [My Name], get [this equipment], [that equipment], and [other equipment] and bring it inside.
The three of us went outside. The other two started shoveling a pathway while I started grabbing the necessary equipment. As I started carrying it up to the house, a neighbor with a snowblower made his way over and started clearing the snow from the driveway. Suddenly, two more neighbors with snowblowers arrived and joined in the effort. On my second trip outside, I watched as two teenagers with shovels ran over and started clearing off the steps. A moment later, yet another neighbor appeared with a bag of sand and she began to coat the steps & driveway to improve traction.
We were able to get the patient down the driveway, into the ambulance, and safely to the hospital, where he made a full recovery. And my faith in humanity? Restored!
Sit Down, Take A Break
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, HOSPITAL, MICHIGAN, USA | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 20, 2020
I’m about ten years old and have just fractured my arm in two places. The breaks are minor enough that they don’t hurt, so I am much calmer than my parents, who have brought me to the emergency room. My mother brings me in to see an ER doctor while my father parks the car. The doctor is about as calm as I am.
Doctor: “You just have two little fractures on either side of your wrist.”
Me: “Okay.”
Doctor: “And how did you break this again?”
Me: “I tripped over a tent string in the dark.”
Doctor: *To my mother* “She seems like a bookish kid.”
Mom: “Yeah. She is.”
Doctor: “I think she’ll be okay with just a splint.”
Shout-Out To Frazzled Nurses!
CURRENT EVENTS, FUNNY, HOSPITAL, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, NURSES, USA, UTAH | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 18, 2020
In July, both my wife and I contract the illness the health crisis is centered on, and we are taken to the local hospital. However, because I have complications, it is decided that I need to be transferred to a larger hospital with a pulmonologist available.
I am transferred by ambulance to the bigger hospital where there are staff waiting to admit me. I am on a stretcher with various medical staff around me. There is one nurse doing transfer paperwork for me.
Nurse: “So, do you prefer to be called Dave or David?”
This question has me puzzled.
Me: “My name is John!
Nurse: “Oops, I really must check the paperwork properly!”
Testing Their Patients And Their Patience
CANADA, CURRENT EVENTS, MEDICAL OFFICE, PATIENTS, STUPID | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 14, 2020
I work at a medical clinic. During the health crisis, I have variations of the following story many times.
Me: “Has the patient been tested for [illness] recently?”
Patient’s Ride: “Oh, he lives at a seniors’ facility, and they get tested regularly.”
Me: *Pause* “The actual [illness] test where they get a swab?”
Patient’s Ride: “Oh, well, they get their temperatures taken regularly.”
How people at this point don’t understand the difference between being screened and tested, I will never know.
What A Load Of Crap
BLOOD DONATION, NURSES, STUPID, UK | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 10, 2020
I have been giving blood for years now without issue. Being slim, a few nurses ask me to confirm my weight because the clinic will not accept donations from anyone under fifty kg.
Nurse: “What is your weight, please?”
Me: “It’s fifty-five kg.”
Nurse: “No, it’s not. You’re underweight.”
Me: “Yes, it really is fifty-five kg; I can jump on some scales right now if you like.”
Nurse: “No, we don’t have any here. You are not fifty-five kg. When did you weigh yourself?”
Me: “This morning, because I knew I was coming here.”
Nurse: “Before breakfast and undressed?”
Me: “Yes, of course.”
Nurse: “Was it before or after you went to the bathroom?”
Me: “I had already had a wee before I weighed myself.”
Nurse: “But not passed a stool? That will account for the discrepancy, then.”
Me: “Wait. What? The cut off is fifty kg; I’m five kg over that. I can’t lose that in one trip to the bathroom.”
Nurse: “Oh, you’d be surprised.”
In the end, I was allowed to donate if I promised to completely empty my bowels before the next visit — all five kg of it, apparently.
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Thanks, Doctor Wazowski!
CURRENT EVENTS, DENTIST, FUNNY, MOVIES & TV, PENNSYLVANIA, PITTSBURGH, USA | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 9, 2020
To make a long story short, due to the health crisis, I end up needing to get my six-month cleaning done at a dentist I’ve never been to before. As expected, a ton of precautions are in place: waiting outside, wearing a mask until they actually start working inside your mouth, the employees wearing extra protection, etc.
I get checked in, x-rayed, and seated in the chair just fine. Among the equipment in the room is a long metal arm with joints for maneuvering and a cone at the end. When the hygienist pulls the arm around and positions the cone a few inches away from my face; I assume it’s a light.
However, before the hygienist turns it on, she explains that it’s a “suction device” to prevent germs from escaping. Nice precaution, but as soon as she says “suction,” I can feel my eyes bug out because, knowing that’s its purpose, the shape suddenly looks VERY familiar.
Me: “What?! But… it looks exactly like the Scream Extractor from Monsters, Inc.!”
Hygienist: *Laughing* “Yeah, a lot of people have been saying that. I never saw that movie, so I didn’t get it, but I just watched it a few days ago and went, ‘Oh, my gosh, yeah. We have the Scream Machine.’”
So, I had my cleaning done with a loud vacuum running a few inches from my face, and I left very grateful that they had seen me and with a hilarious story to text to the siblings.
The Least Annoying Telemarketer Ever
AWESOME, HEALTH & BODY, INSPIRATIONAL, KIND STRANGERS, TELEMARKETING, THE NETHERLANDS | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 8, 2020
The official description of colic — or “crybaby” as is its literal translation from Dutch — is “a baby that cries at least three hours a day, at least three days a week, for at least three weeks,” and it usually passes by the fourth month.
When I was a baby, I cried for twenty hours a day, every day, for over seven months. The doctors weren’t able to find a cause. Food intolerances were tried and ruled out, my parents were accused of malingering and observed in the hospital to make sure they weren’t exaggerating and/or inducing the crying, and my parents were advised to have me sleep in the barn or have me sleep over at the home of a deaf elderly relative.
Around the seven-month mark, a telemarketer called our exhausted family to sell some kind of overpriced private health insurance.
My father picked up the phone and interrupted the sales spiel.
Father: “My baby has been crying twenty hours a day for the past seven months. She’s obviously in pain, and the doctors can’t find the cause or solve it and are still looking. You don’t want us as your customers.”
Telemarketer: “No, I totally understand. I hope I’m not overstepping, but have you tried a chiropractor? That could be KISS syndrome.”
My parents had not tried a chiropractor.
One week later, to the chiropractor I went.
That afternoon, my older brother — who didn’t know I had had any kind of appointment that day — looked at my parents in obvious concern.
Brother: “I think there’s something wrong with the baby. They’re never this quiet.”
My parents didn’t buy from the telemarketer, and they don’t remember her name. But we are all very glad a salesperson called us that day.
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