(An order comes to my pharmacy for a well-known antibiotic. This antibiotic is known to smell exactly like rotten eggs, so most of us just hold our breath while we count it and try not to think about it too much. We dispense it to a woman who is picking it up for her teenage son. Everything is normal and she leaves with the prescription, but about 10 minutes later she comes stomping back into the pharmacy, pretty much shoves the person that I am currently helping out of the way, and throws the bottle of medication on the counter.)
Customer: “I want to speak to your manager right now! You guys gave me rotten medication!”
Me: “Really? Let me look at the expiration date on your bottle. Normally we don’t keep anything that has one less than a year away.”
(I look at the bottle and see that the pharmacist wrote a date of over a year away, and I go over to our stock bottle and check and the numbers correspond with each other.)
Me: “Hmm. Well, ma’am, it doesn’t look like this medication is expired but I will have the phar—”
Customer: “You are just lying! I mean, come on and open that bottle! It smells totally rotten! I can’t believe that you would ever give someone bad medication! My son is very very ill!”
Me: “Oh, that’s just because the active chemical that is in this medication has a bad smell. Trust me, I wish there was something that we could do about it back here, too. Most of us hold our breath while we count it.”
Customer: “Stop ****** lying to me. You just don’t want to admit you did something wrong! I will have your job for this, b****!
(At this point the pharmacist who has been listening the whole time walks over.)
Pharmacist: “Ma’am, while I don’t like the fact that you are calling my staff names like that I will let you know two things. One is, certain chemicals have a bad smell. It’s just a fact of life. So, while I know that smell is unpleasant, it’s just one of those side effects that come with being able to take medications that will help your sick son. I assure you it’s supposed to smell that bad. If it didn’t, it wouldn’t work right. Two, since you don’t seem to want to listen to my employees and call them awful names, this will be the last time that you or any members of your family can shop or fill any type of medication here. Maybe in the future you can learn how to treat people the way you want to be treated.”
(The woman proceeded to turn bright red with embarrassment and tried to apologize, but my boss wouldn’t hear it. That was almost two years ago and he still will not allow her or her family to fill their prescriptions at his pharmacy.)
Crazy Requests, Medical Office, Patients, Texas | Healthy | December 20, 2018
(I work in a clinic with eight doctors in it, and a staff of about 90 between our multiple locations. My job involves acting as the operator, so I am one of three women who answer the phones initially, and usually get this call
Patient: “Somebody called me.”
Me: “Who was it, please?”
Patient: “I don’t know.”
Me: “Was there a voice message?”
Patient: “I didn’t check for one.”
Me: “I apologize, there are almost a hundred people who work here. I couldn’t say who tried to call you.”
Bad Behavior, Hospital, Nurses, USA | Healthy | December 19, 2018
(I am a female with an incredibly rare type of hemophilia which affects both men and women. I have an upcoming surgery, so the surgeon requests an action plan from my hematologist regarding what to do if things go south during my surgery and what protocols to follow for my post-op care. One directive is VERY clear: I am not to receive any anticoagulant medications unless by some freak medical fluke I develop a DVT, since I do not form hard clots and have prolonged bleeding. This is posted in my room in no less than three places, plus on a red armband I am wearing. First nurse shift, no issues. Then night shift comes on… The nurse comes into my room to give me my medication and I see she has Lovenox, an anticoagulant shot.)
Me: “Oh, I think there was a mistake; I can’t take Lovenox. I have hemophilia. It’s in my chart, over there–” *pointing to the places posted* “–and also on my armband.”
Nurse: *rather snotty tone* “It’s standard for all surgical patients. You need it so you don’t get a blood clot. Besides, girls don’t have hemophilia.”
Me: “Hmm, yes, females can get certain types of hemophilia, as I have one of them, and as I said before, it’s in my chart, posted there, and on my armband.”
(The nurse huffed off. About thirty minutes later, I was dozing and the crazy nurse tried to stealthily give me the shot of Lovenox. I screamed bloody freaking murder and knocked it out of her hand. The charge nurse ran into the room to find out what all the commotion was about. I told her what had happened. She paled and took the nurse out. I didn’t see that nurse again the rest of my stay. A few days later I heard some other staff talking about the nurse who got fired for trying to give some patient medication the patient couldn’t take, after the actual patient told her they couldn’t have it, and then tried to sneak in while the patient was sleeping to give it. I’m still not sure what she thought she was going to accomplish.)
Bad Behavior, Camp, Criminal & Illegal, Health & Body, USA | Healthy | December 18, 2018
(We had a summer camp cook that was a legitimate threat to our health and safety. Counselors came early to camp to help prepare for the coming kids, and the cook was responsible for feeding us. Just two of her sins were: 1) Food was chilled several degrees above the temperatures required for food safety. 2) She saw nothing wrong with storing raw, dripping meat above uncovered lettuce because the lettuce was going to be rinsed off, anyway. Counselors complained multiple times, but the higher-ups refused to fire her because she had faked her training in food preparation and continued to insist that she knew better, and the counselors didn’t know what they were talking about. Then, there was an incident that couldn’t be ignored. Two counselors were hospitalized with life-threatening conditions. Why?)
Cook: “There’s no such thing as allergies! It’s all in their minds! They’ve been allowed to be picky all their lives, instead of being forced to eat their ‘allergens’–” *actually makes air quotes with her fingers* “–until their body is forced to stop reacting to it and then you can eat it like everyone else! That’s how you get over allergies!”
(Fortunately, the police were very interested to hear that she had been made fully aware of the allergies of everyone at camp, and even MORE interested to hear that she had deliberately slipped the allergens to the unsuspecting counselors. The cook was arrested. As for the rest of us? We have been keeping documentation of the times the higher-ups failed to take action against our many complaints. We have a sizeable file to give to the lawyers of the two counselors who were hospitalized.)
Health & Body, Restaurant, USA, Washington DC | Healthy | November 15, 2017
(I’m a manager for a popular casual restaurant. I receive a phone call from an upset customer.)
Caller: “Why don’t you offer allergy menus? My daughter almost died from eating calamari! Why would you serve her something that she is allergic to, and she’s pregnant!”
Me: “I do apologize for your daughter’s condition and we do offer a dozen different types of menus which do include an allergen menu, nutritional menus, large print menus, etc.”
Caller: “How am I supposed to know you have these menus?!”
Me: “Did you ask? Also, if your daughter knew she was allergic to calamari, why would she order it?”
Caller: “She didn’t know she was allergic to it! That’s why I was asking about the allergen menu!”
Me: “Okay, so, if she doesn’t know that she is allergic to calamari, how are we supposed to know?”
Caller: *realizes the paradox* “Well, she’s pregnant and I am really scared.”
(I’m a mom of two.)
Me: “I understand you are scared and when a person is pregnant their body goes through a lot of changes; consult with the doctor and I hope she will be okay.”
(I never got a call back I wonder if she still thinks we should automatically know if someone is allergic to something.)
(I work in a southwestern-themed restaurant, and many of our recipes include similar spices, just in different amounts. Onion is one of the most prominent ingredients in our recipes, and we sometimes get a request for ‘no onion’ in certain items. We can make some things, but it’d be pretty much just lettuce, cheese, and any number of fresh chopped vegetables that aren’t onion or mixed with anything that has onion in it. As such, I get this man in line.)
Customer: “I’d like a burrito.”
Me: “Okay, would you like that with or without guacamole today?”
Customer: “With.”
(The guacamole has onion in it.)
Me: “What kind of meat on your burrito?”
Customer: “Chicken.”
(The chicken has onion in the seasoning.)
Me: “Any rice or beans?”
Customer: “Sure, I’ll take [rice with onion in it], and [beans with onion in them].”
Me: “Any grilled vegetables?”
Customer: “Ooh, no, thank you. I’m allergic to onion.”
Me: “Sir… if you’re allergic to onions then I highly suggest you don’t eat this burrito. There is a load of onion in it already.”
Customer: “Oh, no, I’m only allergic to onion that I can see.”
(Eight years of culinary experience, and this is the first time I’ve heard that excuse. I made him his burrito – leaving off anything with visible onion – and he went on his way. No complaints yet.)
(I am a cashier at a restaurant. We are a small business and the owners are still working on the perfect way to run the business. A couple walks in and orders at the counter as usual. After finding a table, the woman returns to the counter.)
Customer: “Excuse me; do you have any larger chairs? My husband is too large to fit in these.”
(I know we don’t have any, but I go in the back to ask the owner for advice anyway. I return to the counter with no real solution.)
Me: *”No, ma’am. We don’t have any larger chairs; I’m sorry for your husband’s discomfort.”
Customer: “Okay, thanks anyway.”
(She goes back to her table, visibly upset. The husband returns to fill his drink, and I notice he is wearing an adult bib. They eat all their food with seemingly no complaints. They talk for a few minutes, and then the wife returns to the counter.)
Customer: “Excuse me, I’m having an allergic reaction. Is the manager around?”
Me: “Yes, ma’am. Let me go grab the owner for you.”
Owner: “What’s wrong, ma’am ?”
Customer: “My throat is itchy. I’m allergic to something in your food. Could you name the ingredients for me?”
Owner: *names every ingredient in the food she and her husband has eaten*
Customer: “I’m not allergic to any of that.”
Owner: “I’m sorry, ma’am, then you didn’t have an allergic reaction here.”
Customer: *becoming more angry by the second* “I said my throat is itchy and I’m having an allergic reaction! Don’t you care at all about your customers?”
Owner: “Would you like me to call an ambulance?”
Customer: “No! I’m fine! We were just leaving!”
(She pulled her husband out the door. He seemed indifferent to her “allergic reaction.” He even waved to us on the way out.)
Bad Behavior, Children, Hospital, Patients, USA | Healthy | December 17, 2018
(I’m a student who is doing a clinical rotation at the hospital. We have a mother who brings in her child and is adamant the child must have appendicitis because the child has a horrible bellyache. Everything is normal except the x-ray, which shows a huge amount of stool. We go in to let the mother know the child is just constipated, and she still insists it MUST be appendicitis. The nurse is telling the mother about how to prevent constipation and to increase fluids and fiber, etc. She is quite insistent that her child eats a wonderful diet and this couldn’t possibly be just constipation, and the doctor must be an idiot. It’s not long after Halloween and an idea forms. I ask the child
Me: “How much Halloween candy did you eat in the last two days?”
Child: *looks at me and whispers with a big smile* “All of it.”
(Yeah, a bunch of taffy, caramel, and other assorted junk will plug your child up.)
Hospital, Oregon, Patients, Portland, Silly, USA | Healthy | December 14, 2018
(I am in labor at the hospital. My midwife comes in to check how it is going and to feel the baby’s position for delivery. After feeling my belly she says
Midwife: “I cannot find the baby.”
Me: “Well, I am pretty sure that he didn’t come out yet, so he must be somewhere inside.”
Doctor/Physician, Medical Office, Patients, The Netherlands | Healthy | December 13, 2018
(I am still a teenager when this happens. I’ve had several bladder infections, which took a while to diagnose because I am a man, “and men never get urine infections.” Luckily my GP and parents take me seriously after the final diagnosis, so if I feel it coming, I pee in a pot, take it to the GP, and he does the test and gives me the antibiotics. A cause has yet to be found. One day I wake up in immense pain. I suspect bladder infection, but I can hardly squeeze anything out. The result also looks different, and I immediately go to the GP with my parents and my little jar. I don’t have to wait for long, and when the GP sees the little jar, he gets ready for the normal tests. Then… he suddenly turns back and takes the jar.)
GP: “Wait… I officially have to test this, but please go to the hospital right away.”
Father: “What is wrong?”
GP: “It’s a bladder infection, I’m positive but…” *he shows the jar, which holds three separate layers of fluids* “This is blood, this is proteins, and this is urine. It’s not supposed to separate… at all. Please leave right away, while I test this.”
(When I reached the hospital, results were in, a bed was made ready, and I spent a week at the hospital with a very severe bladder infection. I still often feel bladder infections coming, but it turns out my body responds really well to cranberry juice, so I haven’t had any need for antibiotics ever since!)
Medical Office, Patients, Silly, USA | Healthy | December 12, 2018
I was diagnosed with Asperger’s when I was fourteen, and I’ve never really seen anything bad about it. I like to make jokes about having it sometimes, too.
Whenever I go to the doctor, I ask if I need any vaccines or shots at the time, and I distinctly remember one of my doctors making a remark on how I’m one of the only people who ask voluntarily. I was fifteen at the time and this doctor works usually with younger patients.
I calmly looked her in the eye and smiled brightly before saying, “I already have autism; what’s the worst that can happen?”
It wasn’t as funny as I thought it was when she assumed I actually thought that vaccines caused autism and started lecturing me.
California, Health & Body, Parents/Guardians, Phone, USA | Healthy | December 11, 2018
(My dad is on the phone with me one day while I’m away at college. I’m in my late teens. English is not our first language, and as is the case most of the time with immigrants and their children, I have a much better knowledge of the language. He’s looking for a medical specialist to go to for some issue he has and is reading off a list to have me help him figure out what type of doctors they are.)
Dad: “It says this one is an anesthesiologist. What is that?”
Me: “That’s the doctor who puts you to sleep during surgery.”
Dad: “This one is a dermatologist.”
Me: “That’s a doctor who treats skin conditions.”
Dad: “Okay, this one is a nephrologist.”
Me: “They treat the kidneys.”
Dad: “Hmm…Let’s see… The next one is a Neurology doctor.”
Me: “They treat the brain and nervous system.”
Dad: “Okay… Oh, how about this one? It’s an OB/GYN. What is that?”
Me: “Uh… That’s… really not the right kind of doctor for you, Dad.”
(It’s worth noting here that I have a poor and very awkward relationship with my father, to the point that we’ve essentially not talked about anything personal in my entire life, and NEVER anything to do with sex.)
Dad: *in a curt and impatient tone* “What kind of doctor is it? What does OB/GYN mean?”
Me: *trying very hard not to be forced to say anything that would be extremely awkward for me* “That’s not the kind of doctor you’re looking for, Dad. I’m definitely sure about that.”
Dad: *suddenly snapping at me loudly and quite angrily* “I don’t care what you think! Just tell me what the h*** kind of doctor it is! I want to know what OB/GYN means, right now!”
Me: *startled and insulted* “Um, well, that’s… that’s a doctor who treats babies.”
Dad: *immediately calms down and pretends nothing happened, then goes on with asking about other doctors from the list* “Oh. Well. Okay, the next doctor is a….”
(I was very awkward back then about anything to do with sex, and very easily intimidated and bullied by my parents. Looking back on it now, I really wish I’d answered him with, “Well, Dad, that’s the doctor who treats vaginas and uteruses! You know, the doctor who looks into vaginas and then puts his hands into vaginas, and then puts all sorts of medical implements into vaginas! Vaginas vaginas vaginas vaginas! So, how about it? I guess I could have been totally wrong! Do you think that this could be the doctor you’re looking for – the doctor who treats vaginas?”)
Hospital, Missouri, Non-Dialogue, Patients, Silly, USA | Healthy | December 10, 2018
I come into the hospital, 39 weeks pregnant with a single baby, due to a sudden headache, high blood pressure, and vomiting. It’s determined I’ve developed severe preeclampsia and need to be induced today.
Just about three hours after being admitted, the baby has moved for the fourth time, making it difficult to accurately monitor her heart rate. The doctor decides to have a monitor placed in utero on the baby to get a consistent reading.
The nurses tasked with placing the monitor are gathered at my legs, talking amongst themselves, prepping for the procedure. I’m foggy from the medicine and not really paying attention when a nurse says, “Oh, there’s two.” After having a minor panic attack, I catch the nurse’s attention and it turns out they had two of the monitors, but after talking about irregular heartbeats I thought somehow a second baby had shown up.
Canada, Health & Body, home, Lazy/Unhelpful, Non-Dialogue, Ontario | Healthy | December 7, 2018
I’m a very lazy person by nature. I’ll get up and walk around if I feel like it, but I never really go out of my way to try and stay fit. I’m also notorious for hating every sport except for swimming, due to poor performances in gym class. As part of a co-op program for college, I end up staying with my marathon-running, fitness-nut uncle for a month. He is constantly offering for me to join him for workouts or trips to the gym, but I always decline, and he never pushes it. He just wants to be polite and offer to let me come along.
One day, I decide I want to try it, so I get his help setting up a workout routine. When I go back to college at the end of the program, I try it myself without supervision. I end up hurting my hip and have to stop, but after a week or two, I notice that the pain is not going away. It takes me two years to get a proper doctor’s appointment for this — my community is notorious for long waits to see doctors for anything — and I am diagnosed with a muscle tear in my right hip.
So, to sum it up, I hate sports, but the first time I do an actual workout to try and get myself into shape, I come away with what is commonly called a “sports hernia.” Everyone who found out laughed at the sheer irony of it.
Extra Stupid, France, Hospital, Non-Dialogue, Reception | Healthy | December 6, 2018
I was told by a previous doctor I had polycystic ovary syndrome. My period has always been irregular and I have often had hemorrhages for the last three years. I have not seen a gynecologist in over six years because of a bad experience with the last one, but I make an appointment with a different one to get it checked out. To make the story short, things go okay at my appointment, but for some reason my left ovary is nowhere in sight on the sonogram, so I have to get an MRI scan. When I call to make the appointment, I get asked why the doctor wants me to take an MRI scan. I tell the secretary I have irregular periods and the doctor could not find my left ovary on a sonogram. She tells me that I can’t be on my period for the scan, so she asks when my next is period due so she can put me in when I am not on my period. I tell her again that my period is irregular and I have no idea when the next will come. She stares at me for a few seconds, and then asks me when the last one was and asks me how long my cycle usually lasts. I know the date, but I tell her that it can be somewhere between 28 to 120 days.
A few second of blank stares later, she finally gives me an appointment and tells me yet again that I can’t be on my period for the scan.
How can a woman not understand what “irregular period” means?
Canada, Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Medical Office | Healthy | December 5, 2018
(This takes place shortly after my 19th birthday. I want to get a tattoo, much to my parents’ dislike, but since I am an adult now, they relent and my father goes with me as I get it done. I get a Gallifreyan circle — from Doctor Who — on my left forearm. It comes out really nice and I love it. However, a few months later, when it is fully healed, I develop some little red bumps over the tattoo and the skin is very itchy. I think it’s a rash, but it doesn’t look serious. I go to my family doctor to check it out, since I rarely get rashes at all. For context, my doctor is originally from Germany, and she has a thick accent. She also doesn’t have any sense of humor and is really blunt, which makes it hard to talk to her sometimes. I go in for my appointment and show her my arm.)
Me: “I think I have a rash on my arm, but I don’t know how I got it. I don’t have allergies to anything, so I’m not sure what triggered it.”
Doctor: “When did you get the tattoo?”
Me: “In May, a few months ago.”
(It’s August now.)
Doctor: *cutting me off* “You’re allergic to tattoo ink. No more tattoos.”
Me: *thinking* “If I’m allergic to the ink, wouldn’t I have had a reaction immediately?” *out loud* “Are you sure? It’s been a good amount of time since I got it, and I didn’t have a reaction when it was healing.”
Doctor: “You’re allergic to tattoo ink. You can’t get any more tattoos. You’re lucky you came in now; it could have developed into something worse. “
Me: “If I got this rash right after getting the tattoo, I would agree with you. But it’s been about three months, and it’s fully healed. Is there any possibility it could be something else?”
Doctor: “You’re not listening to me. You. Are. Allergic. To. The. Ink. Do not get any more tattoos. And don’t get any more piercings, either.”
(I only have my ears and nose pierced, but I don’t know why that mattered since they also healed fine. I was skeptical, but didn’t push it further. She prescribed a rash cream and said to use it until it clears up, or come back to see her if it doesn’t. I decided to call the tattoo shop I went to to ask them about it, which I now know I should have done in the first place! They told me not to worry, since it was fully healed, and it wasn’t a typical allergic reaction, especially months later. I used the cream and the rash was completely gone about a week later. I now have four tattoos, and have never developed another rash. Allergic, indeed!)
Bad Behavior, Dentist, North Carolina, USA | Healthy | December 4, 2018
(Thanks to starting a new job, I am finally able to afford to go to a dentist for the first time in five years. After the x-rays, it is determined that I have a cavity in between two molars, so I’ll need to be numbed. My last dentist, who was a pediatric dentist, had a habit of practically stabbing the needle into my gums, so when the hygienist towards me with the syringe, I instinctively grip the chair’s armrests.)
Dentist: “Are you okay?”
Me: “Just fine; I just don’t have good experiences with dentists and needles. But I can deal with it.”
(The dentist and hygienist exchange a concerned look and administer the shot. Instead of a jab, I barely feel a pinch. While we wait for it to take effect, we just make small chat.)
Dentist: “[My Name], you said your last dentist was a pediatric dentist, correct?”
Me: “Yeah, I think I was 15 or 16 when I last saw them. I had to get sealants on my back molars.”
Dentist: “Did they numb you?”
Me: “Yeah, only on one side, though. When they numbed me on the left, I swore the needle nearly hit bone, so I begged them not to numb the other side.”
Dentist: “And they listened?”
Me: “Yup, it hurt less than the needle.”
Dentist: *pause* “Was your dentist, by chance, the one whose practice is at [Location Downtown]?”
Me: “Yes?”
Dentist: “Dear God, no wonder we got so many of his patients when we opened.”
Doctor/Physician, Georgia, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, USA | Healthy | December 3, 2018
(I get a strange painful lump that shows up while I’m pregnant. The doctor tells me not to worry and that it will go away after birth. Six months postpartum, I go to get it checked out again. The doctor tells me to give it more time to heal. Eight months postpartum, I go to a GP to get it checked out, because I’m still in pain and tired of being blown off. I’m quickly diagnosed with a hernia. As I’m getting ready for surgery
Me: “I wish my doctor had just told me he couldn’t do anything and told me to go see someone else.”
Nurse: “Well, that would have meant having to put aside his ego; doctors don’t like to do that.”
Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | December 2, 2018
(The urgent care doctor says my test results for flu and strep are negative. She prescribes anti-nausea medication and wants to put me on antibiotics for ten days. I have some complicated gut issues, and I explain that the last time I was put on antibiotics, my stomach was messed up for weeks.)
Doctor: “There aren’t any antibiotics you can tolerate?”
Me: “I really don’t know. I could try taking them, but if I get sick, I can’t stop taking them until the bottle is empty, right?”
Doctor: “Oh, I will just give you the five-day Z-Pack, then.”
Me: *trying not to ask her if she’s stupid* “Isn’t the Z-Pack stronger, since it’s used for only a few days?”
Doctor: *lightly and carelessly sighs as she responds* “Oh, yeah
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