(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.)
Bad Behavior, Boston, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Massachusetts, Nurses, USA | Healthy | July 27, 2018
(I’m Bipolar I and not medicated. We’ve tried a few different combinations of drugs for me, but unfortunately I either have side effects or it simply doesn’t help anything. While therapy has been helpful, it’s not perfect; I still need the occasional trip to a psychiatric hospital. For this particular incident, I am sent to a completely different hospital, which I later learn is more adequately equipped to handle patients seeking drug rehab. However, even that seems to be inaccurate, as I learn during my three-and-a-half day visit. On day one, a patient and the head of the wing are talking in a common area
Doctor #1 : “Sunday. Your insurance lets us hold you another week.”
(For a little context, during a previous group session I had with [Patient #1 ], he mentioned he’s been here almost two weeks and the head of the group commented on how much progress he’s made. As my stay continues, it isn’t uncommon to overhear the nurses gossiping about how they can’t believe the doctors still won’t discharge [Patient #1 ]. Day two: one of the other patients is a new mother with apparently no thought filter. As a result, she frequently talks about how she has to pump if the subject even remotely drifts towards family or children. One of the other patients finally gets fed up with it and a fight nearly breaks out. Unlike the mother, the other patient is allowed to leave the wing to go have lunch in the cafeteria.)
Doctor #2 : “Okay, [Patient #3 ], you just lost your cafeteria privilege for today.”
Me: “But doesn’t [Patient #2 ] have to stay up here, too?”
(After enough of us band together, the doctors finally agree the best thing they can do for both patients is to separate them. Also of note, a fourth patient is discharged at the end of day two, with a certain nurse helping her gather her things. On day three, though I’ve only had three or four sessions with her, I bid [Patient #3 ] farewell as she is gathering her things from the storage locker with the same nurse who assisted yesterday’s discharge. Just as I go to leave
Nurse #1 : “Sorry. We’ll call the police and report the theft.”
Patient 3: “WHAT THE F***’S THAT GOING TO DO? SHE’S BEEN GONE A DAY ALREADY! WHY DIDN’T ANY OF YOU NOTICE THE BAG WASN’T LABELLED FOR HER?” *begins crying*
Patient #3 : “IT HAD THE ONLY PICTURE I HAVE OF ME WITH MY FATHER! YOU CAN’T REPLACE THAT! HE DIED AFTER I WAS BORN!”
Me: “Get the f****** police already, you dips***!”
(I didn’t know what else to do. The police do show up, though I have no idea how this story ends or if anything was done about [Nurse #1 ]. On day four — my release day — I’m sitting in the common area playing cards, waiting for my girlfriend to show up and drive me home. Needing a fourth for Hearts, one of the nurses agrees to join us.)
Nurse #2 : “[My Name], you sure know how to pick ’em. Of all the weeks you could’ve shown up!”
Me: “I’m amazed, too.”
Nurse #2 : “Yeah, but this ain’t even the worst of it. One patient last year always ran his mouth. ‘I’m in for bestiality!’ ‘I’m a member of the local KKK and they think this’ll cure me!’ and on and on. All cause he didn’t want to admit he tried to kill himself after his girlfriend broke up with him.”
Me: “Excuse me?”
Nurse #2 : “Yeah, he just kept making excuses to justify the cuts on his arms.”
Me: “You can’t tell us that! His medical records are still privileged!”
(I’ve never been back. I haven’t looked it up yet, because I’m truly frightened that it might still be open.)
Might Actually Be Worth Getting Whooping Cough, Instead
Dublin, Ireland, Jerk, Medical Office, Reception | Healthy | July 27, 2018
(I’m midway through my pregnancy and have been putting off getting the whooping cough vaccine, so I call my doctor to schedule an appointment.)
Me: “Hi. I was wondering if I could book an appointment for the whooping cough vaccination?”
Receptionist: “What’s your name and date of birth?”
Me: “That’s [My Name] and [date].”
Receptionist: “It says here you’re 22 weeks.”
Me: “Yep.”
Receptionist: “Then, no, you can’t have an appointment.”
Me: “Um, right. Is there any reason why not?”
Receptionist: “The vaccine is only available from 26 weeks.”
Me: “Oh, right. I thought [Doctor] said I could get it from 16 weeks. I must have misheard. It’s okay, though, I can wait another four weeks.”
Receptionist: “Let me check with the doctor. Hold the line.”
(Pause.)
Receptionist: *sarcastically* “Well, I guess the doctor just knows more than me, huh? Clearly I’m just a receptionist, so I wouldn’t know anything. Apparently you can get it from 16 weeks.”
Me: “So, can I book an appointment?”
Receptionist: “At 11 on Monday.”
Me: “That’s perfect. Thank you.”
Receptionist: “The vaccine isn’t free, you know.”
(Most health care is free while pregnant in Ireland, but things like vaccines aren’t.)
Me: “Yep, that’s fine. I have no issue paying.”
Receptionist: “Good, because you have to pay. You’re not getting it free.”
Me: “I know.”
Receptionist: “Because it’s not free. You have to pay.”
Me: *Pause* “Is there anything else you need from me?”
Receptionist: “No, but when you come in for the appointment you have to pay.”
Germany, Health & Body, Ignoring & Inattentive, Language & Words, Patients | Healthy | July 27, 2018
(I work as a speech therapist. While I mostly work with children, I have a handful of adult patients with brain damage. As most of them aren’t able to walk, I visit them at home. All of the patients have fixed appointments once or twice a week. After some recent changes, I end up with an awkward schedule — driving from one end of the town to the other, back and forth — that makes me lose about two hours a week due to driving. I plan to coordinate this better and ask all of my patients if they are okay with different times and/or dates. It works well with everyone at first. I talk to one of my patients, a senior citizen, whom I visit every Monday and Wednesday.)
Me: “I plan to change my weekly schedule. Would it be okay if we moved Monday’s sitting from 11:00 to 13:50?”
Patient: “Well, the physical therapist is there until 13:45, so it should be fine.”
(On the next Monday, I arrive at 13:55. The physical therapist is still with her.)
Me: “Oh, am I early? I am sorry. I thought you two would be done by now”
Physical Therapist: “Oh, no, we still have 15 minutes left. We always have until 14:10.”
Me: “I’m sorry; I didn’t know that. [Patient], we need to reschedule our Monday’s appointment.”
Patient: “Huh? Why? I thought it would be only once. I figured we could cut the therapy a bit shorter today and go back to normal next week.”
Me: “I’m afraid I can’t do that, as I already gave that time to another patient. I am so sorry that I didn’t make it clear that the change would be permanent. My schedule is packed, but what about Tuesday, 11 o’clock instead of Monday?”
Patient: “I am at the daycare on Tuesdays and Fridays”
Me: “That isn’t a problem for me. We have lots of patients in day care. I could visit you there, if that’s okay with you?”
Patient: “Yes, let’s do this.”
Me: “Okay, so now, instead of Monday, I will visit on Tuesdays every week.”
(With everything being clear, we start practicing. On Wednesday I visit her as always, reminding her of our new permanent appointment once again. The next Tuesday, I drive to the day care facility to find her completely surprised, but not by the fact that I showed up there today.)
Patient: “Where were you yesterday?”
Me: “We’ve moved the appointment from Monday to Tuesday. That’s why I’m here today.”
Patient: “Yes, we talked about you coming here on Tuesday, but I didn’t know that meant Monday would be cancelled.”
Me: “We have to have therapy twice a week, so instead of Monday and Wednesday, we now do Tuesday and Wednesday.”
Patient: “Ah, I see.”
(We go on normally. Everything works fine for two weeks, until I get stuck in traffic one Tuesday morning and don’t make it to her. I call her to let her know. The next day, I visit as usual.)
Patient: “Where were you on Monday? I thought you’d be here on Monday.”
(I start explaining again why I can’t come in on Mondays and how we moved it to Tuesday.)
Patient: “But I thought that would be only once. I didn’t know you wanted to come to the day care every week. Every time you come, I miss out on the games and quizzes we do there.”
Me: “I am sorry, but that’s why I asked you if it’s okay before I actually changed the plan. I don’t have many options left right now.”
(I feel bad for her, as I obviously didn’t explain it to her properly, so I explain it again and make extra sure she understood what happened. Finally, I offer to sacrifice one of my lunch breaks to make room for her.)
Me: “The only open appointment would be Thursday at 11:30.”
Patient: “No, that’s not possible, either. Can’t we do Monday, 11:00?”
Me: “As I already explained, I am on a huge tour and can’t be back before 13:30, which won’t work because of the physical therapy. Is there something else you do on Thursdays?”
Patient: “No, it’s just so inconvenient. Why can’t we do Monday?”
Me: “Because I asked you if we could change the time and date. If you had said no, I wouldn’t have changed anything. But I did, and your old appointment is no longer available. What would be a more convenient time for you?”
(Surprisingly, Monday at 11 was still the only time she was willing to agree, so I had to re-reschedule about ten patients, and now I’m back to my old awkward plan.)
Doctor/Physician, home, Malaysia, Silly | Healthy | July 26, 2018
(My family is friends with another family whose dad is an obstetrician/gynaecologist and also a huge joker. In our part of the world, there are sometimes weird pseudo-scientific food fads, including products containing colostrum which is the special milk that comes out just after a mother mammal gives birth — even though cow colostrum isn’t really going to help you unless you’re a calf. At a party, someone shows up with some of these “health” products
Friend: “Look, I brought these colostrum biscuits.”
Obstetrician: *takes one and munches on it* “Hmm, doesn’t taste like colostrum.”
Detroit, Hospital, Michigan, Patients, Silly, USA | Healthy | July 26, 2018
(I am the strange one in this story. I have just woken up after a colonoscopy and my mind is still a bit fuzzy, but I still don’t know what drove me to do this.)
Doctor: “How do you feel?”
Me: “Are you Mickey Mouse?”
Doctor: “No, I’m not.”
Me: “You’re lying. Hi, Mickey!”
(I feel more awake and realize what I just said.)
Me: “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”
Doctor: “That’s okay. That’s not the weirdest thing I’ve heard today.”
Australia, Hospital, New South Wales, Patients, Sydney |
Healthy | July 25, 2018
(My baby was born with a congenital heart disease and required many cannulas and blood draws in the first four weeks of her life. Nurses would try, and then call upon doctors — neonatologists and consultants — and everyone struggled. They would all talk about how small her veins were and how hard it was when she squirmed and cried as they stuck her over and over. The worst part was, when she had a cannula finally inserted, she’d often rip it out within the next couple of hours. After three open-heart surgeries, her last lots of blood are being taken to give us the all-clear to go home.)
Me: “Just be aware, everyone else who has taken blood has had a lot of trouble.”
Young Phlebotomist: *draws blood efficiently and quickly, first time* “All done.”
Me: “Oh, wow! Everyone else has had such trouble; they keep saying she’s got such small veins.”
Young Phlebotomist: “Of course she has small veins. She’s a baby!”
(We have universal health care in Canada, and the card in Ontario is called an OHIP card, although OHIP does not cover everything. I am booking in a copy order when the customer notices my silicone bracelet which has, “[Friend] beats cancer,” on it.)
Customer: “That’s not a cure for cancer.”
Me: “Um, no, that’s my friend’s nickname. She’s just selling these bracelets to help support her cancer, since she has to take time off work and stuff. It’s her second time with it.”
Customer: “She must not have applied for sick leave, then!”
Me: “Um, of course she did. You don’t get your full pay on sick leave.”
Customer: “Nope, only 50%.”
Me: “Right. Hence the bracelets.”
(I try to go back to booking in her order.)
Customer: “There are lots of things she can apply for, you know. Tell her to look stuff up and do her research! She’s not trying hard enough!”
Me: “Well, I’m not one to tell her what to do about her cancer, but I will support her this way, since that’s what she’s doing. Plus, she might have to get pills this time and pay for those.”
Customer: “No, that should be free.”
Me: “Um, no, she was under the impression these drugs weren’t covered by OHIP. I think it’s just because it’s not as serious as it was the first time she had it, so she is just supposed to be getting them from the pharmacy.”
Customer: “Oh, no, I never said it would be covered by OHIP. Drugs are rarely covered by OHIP unless it’s going to save your life—” *which I beg to differ* “—but her work benefits should cover them!”
Me: “Not all of it.”
Customer: “Well, it should cover most of it!”
Me: *irritated by this point* “It depends on the jobs people have and what kind of coverage it provides.”
Customer: “Well, I know all about it! Tell her to do some research!”
(Ugh, I wanted to smack her! I didn’t, of course!)
Employees, Jerk, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, Reception, UK | Healthy | July 24, 2018
(My GP surgery usually has a two- to three-week wait for non-urgent appointments, but also has a limited number of on-the-day appointments available on a first-come-first-served basis. As these go very quickly, most people phone as soon as the surgery opens, so the phone lines are usually busy. I live close to the surgery, so I walk in just as it opens. One receptionist is on the phone, the other calls me forward.)
Me: “Hi, can I make an appointment today to see a doctor?”
Receptionist: “You have to phone for an on-the-day appointment.”
Me: “I… have to call? I can’t make one right here?”
Receptionist: “No, you have to phone.”
Me: “Why can’t I make one now?”
Receptionist: *glaring* “You have to phone. You can’t just walk in and book it.”
Me: “What’s the difference?”
Receptionist: “You have to phone.”
Me: “Okaaaay…”
(I step literally two steps away from the desk, pull out my mobile, and dial the surgery. Nobody else is waiting, so the receptionist is now free to answer the phones. Glaring at me the entire time, she answers the phone… to me.)
Receptionist: “[Surgery], how can I help?”
Me: “I’d like to make an appointment today, please.”
(The other receptionist had finished her call at this point, and just sat there open-mouthed looking backwards and forwards between us as I made an appointment, over the phone, with the receptionist sitting right in front of me
Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Medical Office, New York, USA | Healthy | July 24, 2018
(I start menstruating at 12 years old, but my periods never become regular over time like they are supposed to. Sometimes they last three days, sometimes six or seven. Sometimes I wait three weeks between periods, sometimes five or six weeks. For a while, it doesn’t bother me, but when I am 22, I decide to go to a gynecologist and ask if there is anything to worry about. I should also note that I look very young and am often mistaken for a teenager. At the doctor’s office, I am taken to an exam room where the nurse takes my history and tells me the doctor will be there in a few minutes.)
Doctor: *does not look at my chart* “I hear you’re concerned that your period isn’t regular yet.”
Me: “That’s right; it’s always a surprise. I just want to make sure it’s nothing I should be worried about.”
Doctor: *condescendingly* “Well, it’s not uncommon for periods to be irregular after they start. It can take a few years for your period to become regular.”
Me: *realizing she thinks I’m a teenager* “Ten? Is ten enough years? Because it’s been ten years.”
(The doctor goes white, quickly grabs my chart, and realizes I’m older than she assumed.)
Doctor: “Oh! It definitely should be regular by now; let’s run some blood work.”
Bad Behavior, Health & Body, Non-Dialogue, Pet Store, Pets & Animals, USA, Wisconsin | Healthy | July 23, 2018
I work for a very small, in-state pet store chain. All of us employees are major animal lovers and have pet experience of some kind or another; it’s pretty much a requirement if you want to get a job there. We offer, among other things, nail clippings. Most of the animals we see come in are obviously loved and well-cared for, especially if their owners are regulars. However, that’s not always the case.
A customer came in with a year-old male rabbit of an unidentified breed for a nail clipping. Rabbits don’t come in too often, but things seem fairly normal. Things started to get weird — in hindsight, anyway — when the customer asked us for any vets in the area that took rabbits. Apparently, the rabbit hadn’t been eating for three months — later corrected to three weeks — and she felt that something was wrong. Oh, boy, she had no idea.
According to my coworker who clipped the rabbit, he yawned during the clipping, revealing some very overgrown incisors. How overgrown, you may ask? So overgrown that the lower teeth were starting to poke into the poor bunny’s nostrils. Worse, he had matted fur on his butt, consistent with sitting in a cage for long periods of time. Even worse than that, the nails themselves turned out to be nearly an inch long. And considering he hadn’t been eating for so long, it was a wonder that he was still alive and not emaciated. The rabbit was also a total sweetheart, further adding to the heartbreak.
To make matters worse, the customer left the store for nearly an hour. We practically ceased all operations looking for her and figuring out what to do with the rabbit, since, as time ticked by, we gave up hope of her ever coming back for it. Thankfully, the customer did come back; it turned out she just stopped by the dollar store nearby. Once we told her the condition of her rabbit, she was genuinely shocked, especially when we showed her his teeth. It turns out that not only was she not getting his teeth trimmed, but she only gave him paper towel tubes to chew on, because, “That’s what Google said,” hence the overgrown lower incisors. And yet she wondered why he wasn’t eating!
We finally managed to give her the address of the nearest 24-hour emergency vet clinic to get the rabbit some fluids and grind down his teeth. We also gave her tips on how to get rid of the mats safely and recommended getting the rabbit out of the cage more often. She thanked us deeply, paid for the clipping, and left with the rabbit in tow, hopefully to the vet. I sincerely hope the owner learned from this experience and will start taking better care of the sweet little thing, but at the same time just thinking about it still pisses me off. No matter how understanding the lady was, I will never get over how much she neglected that poor little rabbit.
Moral of the story? Some people really should not own pets, and those who do should do their research before getting it.
Bar, Health & Body, Ignoring & Inattentive, Pets & Animals, UK, Weather | Healthy | July 23, 2018
(The UK has been struggling with a heatwave. We’ve just finished a lunch rush and things are a little quieter. We just cleaning up the bar area while people finish up their food when my coworker and I hear the most awful, rasping panting from a dog entering the door. An older couple enter with their small dog, who is barely able to to walk in a straight line, and sit themselves down at a table. The woman approaches us.)
Woman: “Hi, are you still serving food?
Me: “Yes, ma’am. Would you like some water for your dog before you order? We want to make all of our guests to be comfortable.”
(I ask this because I’m increasingly concerned for the dog’s wellbeing — its panting is sounding significantly worse and it is drooling excessively for a small dog — but I don’t want to sound too nosey.)
Woman: “Oh, no, he’s fine. He’s just tired from our walk up [Popular Tourist Cliff Walk about 2.5 miles long]. We have some water, anyway.”
Me: “No problem, ma’am.”
(I take her order and serve their drinks quickly, watching the dog drink almost half a litre of water rapidly with no change in comfort. Just as I go to check on another table, the dog gets briefly to its feet to vomit violently, only to collapse into the vomit. I quickly try to keep my other customers, including children, calm while the dog’s owners seem oblivious to the severity of its condition, which is now clearly heatstroke.)
Woman: “Oh, dear, someone’s drank too quickly and is tired!” *to my coworker and myself* “Will you be dears and help us clean up?”
(My coworker goes to clean up the vomit while I swiftly go into the kitchen to explain the situation to my boss, who is also the chef.)
Me: “Hey, [Boss], I think we have a dog with heatstroke out there. Is there anything we can do? I’m willing to call [Friend of mine who is a veterinary nurse], if you’d like.”
Boss: “There’s not much we can do, [My Name]; it’s not our dog. Offer to call [Vet a few miles up the road] for them and try to get them to go there; otherwise, you just have to continue as normal. I’m sorry.”
(I go back out and do as I’ve been told to do, offering help as much as I can.)
Woman: “I’m sure he’s fine. We’ll consider it if he doesn’t improve by the time our food comes out.”
Me: “Okay, ma’am. No problem.”
(I try to continue with my other tasks while still watching for any change in the dog. A few minutes later, the food is ready and I take it out to them. The dog is still severely panting, and the owners have now taken the water away to stop him from vomiting it up again. I have to bite my tongue and say nothing, cleaning dirty glasses behind the bar so I can listen to them talking and be ready to do something if the dog ends up going into shock or a seizure.)
Woman: *to a concerned customer* “Oh, he didn’t make it to the top of [Cliff Walk], but luckily we had a deck chair with us and we used that as a stretcher to carry him there! It was beautiful up there, you know? The sun and the heat was warming up all of our old bones wonderfully! There weren’t any other dogs, either, so we had most of the cliff to ourselves! It really was fantastic.”
(The couple left with their dog after an agonisingly long time eating their food, with all of us encouraging them to go to the vet again before they left. Several hours later when my shift ended, I went to the vets to pick up some wormers for my own pets only to find out the couple hadn’t come in. It wasn’t until the next morning my friend texted me to let me know they ended up coming in during the night. They had found the dog unresponsive in its own vomit again shortly after coming back to their caravan after visiting friends. The poor little thing died of heatstroke less than an hour later. I can’t help wishing I could have done more, and that the owners had not been so stupid as to take their dog for a walk in that heat.)
Arizona, Bad Behavior, Health & Body, Phoenix, Restaurant, Strangers, USA | Healthy | July 22, 2018
(I have just had an eye exam. This time I need mine dilated. The exam is good, and afterward, my grandma and I decided to head to [Restaurant] for breakfast. Note that, per doctor’s orders — and because I’m not stupid — I have my sunglasses on inside the restaurant itself. Any logical person would mind their own d*** business, despite there being a young adult sitting in a room with her back towards the window with sunglasses on. One lady, however, doesn’t get that and comes up to the table.)
Lady: “Why do you have sunglasses on?”
Me: *because it’s loud and I can’t hear well* “I’m sorry?”
Lady: “I said, ‘Why do you have your sunglasses on in here?!’ You’re high, aren’t you? You must be high!”
Me: *trying to keep a polite approach in the hopes that she leaves* “Ma’am, I can assure you, I’ve never even touched marijuana.”
Lady: “That’s what a pothead would say!”
Me: “So, because I have my sunglasses on inside, I’m a pothead, am I?”
Lady: “Yes, you f****** are! That stuff is bad for you!”
Me: “Certainly, because I’m allergic to the smell.”
(This is true. I get incredibly dizzy with the smell of weed.)
Lady: “You’re lying! You just had a blunt, and now you’re having a case of the munchies!”
Me: “Please, leave us alone.”
Lady: “Not until you leave!”
(I’m annoyed and have a headache from the noise, and my eyes are hurting, and I’m hangry. I move my sunglasses so she can see my eyes.)
Me: “THEY’RE BIG, NOT RED!”
(The lady, I guess not expecting a 4’11” girl to snap, stepped back and scurried off to whatever she was doing before. I can get not being a fan of weed — like I said, I have an allergy with the smell of it — but even if I had been smoking it, what good would yelling at me do? Sometimes just keep your opinion to yourself
Bad Behavior, Hospital, Patients, USA | Healthy | July 19, 2018
(I work in a children’s hospital. Like most hospitals, we have a code system for emergencies. In our hospital, Code Pink is missing child — either patient, or sibling or friend visitor. We are responding to a Code Pink involving a teenager girl — here after an attempted suicide — who has gone missing from her room. Part of the response is that everyone needs to stay where they are when the code is issued, while the nurses search every room in their unit and allied health professionals man the doors between units. I’m an allied health professional, so I’m guarding the door between two units. It’s also right before visitors are supposed to leave for the night. Several visitors come to me, trying to leave to go home.)
Me: “We’re searching for a missing child at the moment, so please return to your child’s room until we notify you that our search is completed.”
Most People: “Oh, absolutely. I hope you find them quickly.”
Man: “Well, I’m tired, and I’m going home.”
Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but you cannot leave right now.”
Man: “Well, I’m leaving.”
Me: “With all due respect, no, you aren’t. Even if you get past me, no one is coming in or out of the hospital right now.”
Man: *starts to push past me* “I’m leaving.”
Me: “You will be stopped at the main door by security, anyway. We need everyone to stay where they are.”
Man: “I’ll get through security, too.”
Me: “May I remind you that security has pepper spray and tasers? Sir, I’m sure you can imagine that we take a missing child very seriously, and security is not going to play games with you.”
(He dejectedly went back to his room. For those worried, it turns out that the girl’s “friends” were trying to break her out of the hospital. She was 17. They were 18. They made it to the train station outside. They got charged with kidnapping.)
Bad Behavior, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Non-Dialogue, USA | Healthy | July 16, 2018
The nearest clinic that takes my insurance is a pretty far drive for me, so I try to book multiple medical appointments for the same day, or at least get more than one thing scheduled each time I go in. On this particular day, I’ve booked two appointments: one consultation that should take about thirty minutes, and a prescription renewal for a psychiatric medication that should only be about fifteen minutes. The receptionist and I agree that it makes sense to put in some buffer time, just in case the consultation takes a little longer than expected, so my psychiatric appointment is scheduled to start fifteen minutes after my consultation should end.
I arrive at the clinic fifteen minutes early, check in for both my appointments, remind the receptionist of my schedule, and settle into the waiting room. It’s not unusual for appointments at this clinic to run a few minutes late, so I’m not surprised when we’re five minutes past my first appointment time and I haven’t been called back; I left the buffer time for a reason. However, by the time we approach the twenty-minute mark, I’m pretty concerned. I go to the desk and ask, and the receptionist promises someone will be with me soon. I remind him that I have the second appointment, and he tells me that the psychiatrist’s schedule isn’t jammed, so if I’m a few minutes late, that’s all right. I’m getting a little annoyed, but I try to let it go and go back to wait.
Another ten minutes pass before a nurse brings me back to take my vitals, at what was supposed to be the end of my appointment time. I ask him about the delays, and he tells me that it will be fine and the doctor will be right with me, and leaves me in the office, alone.
I wait in the office for another twenty minutes, now officially five minutes into my psychiatric appointment time, before I step back into the front office. The receptionist says that the consulting doctor’s schedule is completely backed up, so he sends me back to do my psychiatric appointment while I wait. The psychiatrist is very understanding when I explain the whole confusion, and we’re just starting to talk about my medication when another doctor throws the door open without knocking first. Apparently, this is my consulting doctor.
She’s very angry, and starts laying into the psychiatrist, yelling about how it was absolutely unprofessional for him to take me back before I’d met with her, how it was screwing up her whole schedule, and how my consultation today was already going to be difficult, going into details about why it would be. Finally, she turns to me and tells me that if I want to meet with her at all, I have to do it now, because her schedule is so tight today. The psychiatrist tells me to go ahead, and he’ll talk to the receptionist and make sure I can still see him today.
I really don’t want to deal with this woman, but the consultation is for a cancer screening, for a fast-acting type that runs in my family. I’m high risk for it, and if I have it, even the few weeks it might take to rebook a consultation with a less-PO’d doctor could seriously impact my treatment. She’s professional enough during my appointment, and can tell me that I am, in fact, cancer-free, but I’m still very uncomfortable with her.
Luckily, I am able to rebook the psychiatric consultation after just another twenty-minute wait, although I’m now here over an hour later than I’d planned to be. I’m ready to just run out as quickly as I can, but the psychiatrist asks me if I can stay and speak to a staff member about my experience today.
Turns out, the reason there was a twenty-minute wait was because he filed a report against the other doctor for barging into my appointment with him without even knocking first, and then for yelling at him, including information about my appointment in her rant that he had no reason to know, since it didn’t relate to his treatment of me. I’m not sure if what she did was technically a HIPPA violation, or if it just violated the clinic’s policy, but when I go to book another appointment six months later, and specify that I’d like to be seen by any doctor except her, I’m told that she’s no longer with the clinic.
Australia, Jerk, Medical Office, Nurses, Sydney | Healthy | July 15, 2018
(I am allergic to both latex and nitrile, but they’re both relatively new allergies for me, so I don’t think to mention them at first. I need blood taken, so the nurse and I are chatting as she gets the vials ready. As she reaches for the gloves, I notice the box.)
Me: “Oh, sorry. I forgot to say, I’m allergic to both latex and nitrile. Do you have different gloves?”
(The nurse looks at the box, as well.)
Nurse: “These are latex free.”
Me: “I know, but they’re usually nitrile, and I’m allergic to that, too. Do you have vinyl?”
(She grabs a box of vinyl gloves for me.)
Nurse: “Do you know how often I need to wear these? Maybe once a year. They’re horrible! They’re too big, and they feel awful on your hands! I hate them so much!”
(She continued to complain about the gloves as she took my blood. I know vinyl gloves are horrible; I have to wear them for work, too. But I’d also rather not spend the next few hours itching because I got latex or nitrile on my skin!)
Bad Behavior, Blood Donation, Employees, Jerk, New York, USA | Healthy | July 14, 2018
(I have been donating blood at least twice a year ever since I was 18 years old. Once the needle gets into a vein, I have no problems filling the bag. The problem is my veins tend to “squirm” under my skin, and if they don’t get pierced straight on, they have a habit of popping. Due to this, I am rather used to them needing multiple attempts to stick me. One time, I go in to make my donation, and after doing all of the paperwork, I am sat on the bench. The phlebotomist — blood drawer — walks up with a young guy.)
Phlebotomist: “Mr. [My Name]? This is [Trainee], and he is a trainee with us. He is almost done with his training. Would you be okay if he did the needle insertion on you today?”
Me: “I mean, it’s fine with me, but he might have a hard time. I’m sometimes hard to stick.”
Phlebotomist: “Okay, [Trainee], I’ll be over there if you need me.”
(The phlebotomist then walks away to go do a draw from another donor across the room.)
Me: “All right, [Trainee], looks like it’s just the two of us. Just to warn you, my veins tend to squirm a bit, and are easy to pop. Just take your time.”
Trainee: “Don’t worry, sir. This should be easy. Just squeeze on this ball, and… Shoot.”
(He slid the needle into my arm, and, like I warned him, my vein moved out of the way. He tries to change the angle of the needle while it is in my arm, causing a good bit of pain, and then scrapes the side of the vein, popping it.)
Trainee: “Darn! Don’t worry; this is fine. There is another vein I can use. Just make sure you sit still, please. Please squeeze. D***!”
(Another squirm and another pop, luckily with no digging inside of my flesh this time.)
Me: “Do you think you should get your trainer to come and look?”
Trainee: “No, sir. I am almost fully trained, and I have done this before. Is it okay if I move over to your other arm and give that one a shot?”
Me: “Sure, but you are going to have the same problem over there.”
(He moves over to my other side, cleans the skin, ties off the band, pokes at my vein with his finger a couple of times, and lines up the needle.)
Me: “Are you sure you don’t want to call your trainer over?”
Trainee: “I’m sure, sir. This will be fine. Just please don’t move while I’m inserting the needle. Squeeze. Fu… Um… Hey, [Phlebotomist], could you come over for a second, please?”
(He has managed to pop the third vein, and when extracting the needle, he ripped my skin a bit, causing me to start bleeding. When the phlebotomist gets over, he says to her
Trainee: “I don’t know what this guy is doing, but he keeps moving his veins while I’m working.”
Phlebotomist: “I doubt he is doing it on purpose. Let me try another vein, and I’ll show you how to do it.”
Trainee: “Umm… I already tried both elbows, and the veins all popped under me.”
Phlebotomist: “Why didn’t you call me when you started having trouble?”
Trainee: “It would have been fine if he hadn’t been wiggling his veins. Look, I tried both in his left arm, and one in his right, but his right is bleeding now, so I can’t do the other. Do you think I should go for an artery?”
Phlebotomist & Me: “WHAT?!”
Phlebotomist: “NO! YOU DO NOT TAKE BLOOD FROM AN ARTERY! NOT WITH THE TRAINING YOU HAVE! That donor over there is almost full; go take his needle out when he is done, and point him to the snacks.”
(The trainee walks away, muttering something under his breath that I can only assume is more blaming me for moving my veins. The phlebotomist apologizes profusely, saying that she hasn’t had any trouble with him yet today, he has been good with other donors, etc. As they can’t get blood from popped veins, she tells me to come back in a month after they have healed up. As I’m walking to the front door, I walk past the trainee, who gives me a glare, and says
Trainee: “Next time, sir, please hold still while we are inserting the needle.”
(When I went back in, the phlebotomist recognized me, and came up to apologize again, and said that the trainee no longer worked there, at least partially due to the fact that he kept blaming the donors if anything went wrong.)
Costa Rica, Doctor/Physician, Language & Words, Medical Office | Healthy | July 13, 2018
(Recently I discovered I have a mass next to my right knee; this, mixed with constant pain on my back, makes me go to a doctor. She recommends I get x-rays for both knees and back, and gives me a paper with all the indications for the professional in charge. Problem is, I can’t understand the handwriting, but she assures me they will.)
Receptionist: *on the phone* “Welcome to [Clinic]. How can I help you?”
Me: “I need two x-rays for my back and knees, as well as an ultrasound of my right knee.”
Receptionist: “What kind?”
Me: *tries to read indications* “Sorry, I can’t read my doc’s note.”
Receptionist: “Send it to us through [number].”
(I do, and wait ten minutes for the receptionist to return to the phone.)
Receptionist: “According to this, you need one x-ray of your knee, one of your feet, and one ultrasound. Be here at 10:20 am.”
Me: *not really paying attention* “Okay, great. I’ll be there.”
(I go in and pay first. Just then, I notice the x-ray for my back is missing. The receptionist asks for my instructions and shows me it doesn’t mention my back, only knees and feet. At first I let it go… but eventually it bothers me, so I call the doctor.)
Me: “Doc, I’m sorry to bother. Why didn’t you send me to get an x-ray of my back? The instructions only say knees and feet.”
Doctor: “Mmm, send over the instructions through a message, please.”
(I do.)
Doctor: “[My Name], it doesn’t say, ‘of feet,’ it says, ‘Take x-ray of back while on her feet.’”
Bad Behavior, Dentist, Ignoring & Inattentive, Illinois, USA | Healthy | July 12, 2018
(When I was a teenager I had two fillings put into separate back molars. The dentist didn’t wait until I was properly numb to do it, and both of them ended up coming out within the next few days while I was just watching TV. My family wasn’t exactly the best and didn’t believe me when I told them they came out, so I didn’t go back. Fast-forward to about a year ago. I’m out on a date, and I bite down with one of the teeth and the whole thing shatters into five pieces. I make an emergency appointment with the only dentist in town that can take me on such short notice — the dentist from before — and suffer for a day or two until I go in. When the dentist comes in and asks me why I’m there, I tell her about the tooth being shattered. She visibly rolls her eyes at my expense and takes a look, only to freeze in shock.)
Dentist: “Oh! It’s actually shattered. You know, that happens when you don’t get your cavities filled.”
Me: “I’d had it filled before, but it wasn’t done right and came out the next day. I was under eighteen, and my family wouldn’t bring me back.”
Dentist: “And you didn’t eat anything you weren’t supposed to?”
Me: “No, it wasn’t my first filling, and I followed the instructions.”
Dentist: “Well, whoever did the filling obviously didn’t know what they were doing.”
Me: “Well, you’re not too far off the mark, since you’re the one who did it.”
(She suddenly remembered me and actually looked embarrassed. She never apologized, but she was extra careful with explaining my options and giving me a crown — making sure I was properly numb this time — and when I went to pay, she’d knocked down the price a bit. This isn’t the only horrible story I have about her, but this was the last time I let her work on me. I’m glad we finally got a new practice in town and I can go somewhere else.)
Jerk, Medical Office, Nurses, USA | Healthy | July 12, 2018
(I am in high school, and for this semester I need to have a physical done so that I can participate in a mandatory PE class. My mom brings me over to the doctor’s office the school recommends, since our regular GP is currently out of town. At this time in my life, I am very active; I regularly go to karate lessons, hike, swim, and go mountain biking. I also take after my mother’s side of the family, who are built very squarish: short, with broad shoulders and hips. After going through all of the questions and tests, we have this gem of a conversation.)
Nurse: “It looks like everything is in order. Just remember that walking from the fridge to the couch is not ‘exercise.’”
Me: “Excuse me?”
Nurse: “Honey, calling it ‘hiking’ doesn’t make it any better for you.” *she turns to my mother* “Especially with that as an example.”
Mom: “I’m sorry; I didn’t realize that judgemental comments were part of the package. We don’t have to pay extra for them, do we?”
(The nurse looked shocked, but we got the paperwork we needed and headed out. We also let the doctor know about his nurse’s behavior.)
Airport, Bizarre, Health & Body, Non-Dialogue, USA, Wisconsin | Healthy | July 11, 2018
I work at a medical courier company. Basically, I go to different hospitals and pick up and drop off blood and urine samples because different hospitals are equipped to do different kinds of tests. There are some cases where the samples have to be sent on a plane because only a couple hospitals in the country do those certain tests. I go to the airport, where I drop off the box of samples. The box is big and clearly marked, “Biohazard,” and there are some stickers that say, “Biological Substances.”
I’m in line, and a woman comes up to me, looks me straight in the face, and asks, “So, is that like… arms and legs?” I just looked at her for a good 15 seconds before saying, “No.”
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