22 Riskiest Places for Catching Coronavirus

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Me: “Are you f****** kidding me?!”

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

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

A Difference As Simple As Black And White
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, HOSPITAL, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, SILLY, USA | HEALTHY | APRIL 15, 2020
Even though this incident had me briefly worried, I really love it in retrospect simply because of what it meant about the young man involved. His heart was in the right place, and I have to say, he had a good world view.

I’m in the hospital for what the doctor tells me is major surgery. As often happens in these hospital jaunts, I meet the entire staff of people who will be attending my operation.

Just before surgery, the anesthesiologist and his — rather new and green and eager — assistant come in to bid me a good day. They are in masks, scrubs, and caps.

Anesthesiologist: “Hi, [My Name]. My name is [Anesthesiologist] and this is my assistant, [Assistant]. We will be taking care of the anesthesia for you this morning.”

We chat, and I ask questions. [Assistant] desperately wants to prove to the two of us that he knows what is going on and makes a couple of comments that are really gauche and a little stupid, but since it has nothing to do with anesthesia or surgery, I am not concerned. His boss occasionally rolls his eyes, and he tells me, “He really knows his stuff but he’s a little awkward socially,” when [Assistant] leaves the room.

I’m not concerned; I trust my doctor, the anesthesiologist has been very reassuring, and I figure it’s a little late to turn back now.

The surgery goes fine and I wake up a few hours later. Eventually, two handsome young men walk into my room.

Anesthesiologist: “Hi, [My Name]! Do you remember us?”

Me: “I sure do.” *Pointing* “You’re [Anesthesiologist] and you’re [Assistant].”

Anesthesiologist: “Wow. You’re really sharp. You remembered our names!”

Assistant: *In awe* “And, hey. She got us right, too. You couldn’t even see us when we first met. We were in masks! She was still able to tell us apart!”

[Anesthesiologist] and I look at each other and [Anesthesiologist] cheerfully smacks [Assistant] in the shoulder.

Anesthesiologist: *To me* “Tell him how you could tell us apart! Go on. Tell him.”

[Assistant] looks at me expectantly.

Me: “I could tell you apart because [Anesthesiologist] is black and you are not.”

[Assistant] stares at us for a few minutes as if just noticing that he and his mentor look nothing alike, even down to the fact that [Anesthesiologist] is small and compact and [Assistant] is tall and lanky.

It is the cutest moment ever. And I just love the fact that [Assistant] never considered it. When I speak with my doctor later, I mention the incident. She bursts out laughing.

Doctor: “Yeah, [Assistant]’s a little ditzy, but I have to say we should all have his world view.”

A Hearty Dose Of Stupid Questions
EMPLOYEES, FLORIDA, HOSPITAL, STUPID, USA | HEALTHY | APRIL 13, 2020
I’m a nurse at a busy hospital. We often get calls about anomalous readings regarding the heart monitors from the techs who monitor them remotely. Usually, it’s an easy fix like changing out the batteries of the monitor, making sure the connection is secure, or reattaching leads — those sticky things they stick all over your chest and belly at the hospital.

One afternoon, I get this call.

Heart Monitor Tech: “Are you the nurse for room [number]? Oh, my God, your patient is in asystole!” *Meaning they’re flat-lining* “You need to check on them right away.”

Me: “Hmm, I assure you she is not. I’m standing in front of her and she is breathing and talking to me right now.”

Heart Monitor Tech: “Are you sure?”

Me: *In my head* “Yes, I’m absolutely sure I’m not talking to a f****** corpse.”

Me: *Out loud* “I’ll be sure to check the monitor and leads, thanks.”

Patient: “So, I’m definitely not dead? Right?”

The Hamster Is Probably More Self-Aware
CURRENT EVENTS, HEALTH & BODY, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, JERK, SOUTH CAROLINA, STRANGERS, USA, VET | HEALTHY | APRIL 12, 2020
I’m in my mid-forties. My beloved hamster started to have blood in his urine at about the worst possible time, during the start of a widespread illness. I got a same-day emergency appointment and took him to my local vet who, thankfully, was open.

There was a large sign on their door asking patients not to enter if they showed any signs of the illness, but rather to call for further instructions. I stopped, read the sign, and then carefully entered, stopping at the tape marker before the receptionist’s desk. The receptionist was a woman in her sixties wearing gloves and other protective equipment.

I noted after greeting her that I had read the sign and had no symptoms. The vet, the receptionist, and I were all careful to keep separation as much as possible during the visit.

The visit went well and my hamster was prescribed antibiotics. As I was waiting to check out and pay, a woman in her sixties walked in the door with no pet and stood right next to me, despite the fact that the place had no other clients and she could easily have moved further away.

I moved away as far as I could get and still conduct my transaction.

The receptionist told the woman, “I need to ask you if you have read the sign.”

“What sign?” the woman asked.

“Please go outside and read the sign.”

The woman stepped out, huffing, and read the sign while the receptionist and I looked at each other in horror like, “Duh? There is a flipping world-wide crisis going on.” The receptionist actually smacked her forehead and I shook my head in sheer disbelief.

The woman stepped back in and said, “I read the sign. I’m fine,” and then flopped down in a chair as close to me as she could possibly get.

I looked at the receptionist like, “Help!” and she got me checked out and on my way as fast as possible. I fled out the door with my sweet boy — the receptionist was kind enough to hold the door for us — and I hear the woman asking her if she could buy a commonly available brand of dog food you can get at nearly any store.

I still can’t believe she’d risk her life in an international health crisis for dog food she could have ordered online or had delivered to her car at the nearest pet store, and then further do so by standing right next to someone.

If I get this illness, I have a pretty good chance of making it. People her age are dying at a rate of one out of three. If the CDC and WHO and everyone else tell you to separate as much as possible, do it!

Much as I am annoyed by young people partying on the beach during this, it’s not just them that are acting foolishly.

My hamster, by the way, is doing fine.

Putting The Wrong Person Under Pressure
HOSPITAL, IMPOSSIBLE DEMANDS, PATIENTS, USA | HEALTHY | APRIL 11, 2020
I work in an ER as a health unit coordinator, which means one of my many jobs is answering the phones. I’m not allowed to give medical advice over the phone, and neither is anyone else. The phone rings.

Me: “[ER], this is [My Name].”

Man: “Hey, uh, so, I’m sitting in [Other Local ER]’s waiting room. They just took my blood pressure and it seemed high; can you tell me if it’s high or not?”

Me: “Did you say you’re sitting at the [Other Local ER]?”

Man: “Yeah! So, my blood pressure was [a very normal and perfect pressure]; is that high?”

Me: “Unfortunately, sir, I can’t give you any medical advice over the phone, but since you’re sitting in another ER, you could ask them, or I could refer you to a nurse hotline number.”

Man: “Could I get that number, please?”

Me: “Uh, sure.”

He took the number and hung up. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why he would think to call another ER to find out if his blood pressure was high.

A Grand Effort To Prevent Disease
CURRENT EVENTS, GRANDPARENTS, HEALTH & BODY, MEDICAL OFFICE, MICHIGAN, NON-DIALOGUE, USA | HEALTHY | APRIL 10, 2020
My aunt was about to become a grandmother and wanted to make sure she was clean of any diseases before visiting her daughter and newborn grandchild in the hospital. She had suspected that she had a cold and wanted to make sure it wasn’t anything worse, so she set up a doctor’s appointment.

When she went in for her appointment, the doctor came into the exam room in a full hazmat suit.

The doctor apologized and explained that it was a new protocol when seeing patients who might have a certain disease. My aunt was given a clean bill of health and will see her first grandchild soon.

Weird Is The Word
HOSPITAL, IMPOSSIBLE DEMANDS, PATIENTS, USA | HEALTHY | APRIL 9, 2020
I work in an ER as a health unit coordinator, which means one of my many jobs is answering the phones. I’m not allowed to look up patients’ medical records except for in certain circumstances.

The phone rings.

Me: “[ER], this is [My Name]; how can I help you?”

Man: “What’s this word?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Man: “This word in front of me; what does it mean?”

Me: “Sir, I can’t see what’s in front of you. Could you spell the word out for me?”

He spells out a word and I write it down; it’s not a word, term, or medication I’ve ever heard of before. I pronounce it how I assume the word would be pronounced.

Man: “What is it?”

Me: “I’m not sure. Uh… how can I help you?”

Man: “This paper here said to call this number for the pharmacy if I had any questions, so I did!”

Me: “Sir, this is the ER.”

Man: “Oh, really?! Can you, like, look up medical records?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but unfortunately, I can’t do that.”

Man: “Really? You can’t look it up for [Man]?”

Me: “No, I’m sorry, I’m not allowed.”

Man: “Aw, man! Okay, well, have a good night!”

That was one of the weirdest calls I have ever gotten.

Self-Isolate Before It’s Too Iso-Late
AUSTRALIA, CURRENT EVENTS, HEALTH & BODY, HOSPITAL, STUPID | HEALTHY | APRIL 8, 2020
This call takes place in mid-February 2020, just as the panic is starting but before any of the major lockdowns in Australia. My hospital has just opened up a testing clinic but is only accepting patients who meet certain criteria. I’m a switchboard operator, and we’re not medically trained and are not meant to give advice, but in this strange new world we’re in we are finding ourselves having to triage callers to help lighten the load.

Caller: “I heard you guys are testing for that Corona? Where do I go?”

Me: “Okay, first, I just need to check that you meet the criteria to be tested. Are you currently experiencing flu-like symptoms?”

Caller: “Yes, my husband and I have a fever and sore throat.”

Me: “Okay, and have you been overseas in the last fourteen days?”

Caller: “Yes, we just got back from Italy two days ago.”

Me: “Okay. It sounds like you do meet the criteria to be tested.”

I give specific instructions for how to access the clinic using a special entrance.

Caller: “Okay, thanks. We’ll come in soon. Oh, also, my aunty is admitted there with you guys at the moment. Might as well kill two birds with one stone and visit her while we’re there!”

Me: “Umm, no, please don’t do that.”

Caller: “Huh? Why not?”

Me: “Uh… They ask you to self-isolate if you believe you have it. I would not recommend visiting an inpatient.”

Caller: “What? Oh, yeah, I guess that makes sense. Okay, we won’t visit her, then. Thank you, bye!”

This is why it’s spreading!

A Depressing Misunderstanding
CALIFORNIA, LOS ANGELES, MEDICAL OFFICE, NURSES, USA, WORDPLAY | HEALTHY | APRIL 7, 2020
I’ve recently started antidepressants, and a nurse calls me a few days later to check on me.

Nurse: “How are you feeling? Are the meds working for you?”

Me: “A bit better, but I’m still taking stock.”

Nurse: “What was that?”

Me: “I’m taking stock? To see if I feel better?”

Nurse: “You shouldn’t be doing that.”

Me: “What? Why not?”

Nurse: “You shouldn’t be taking anything not prescribed by your doctor.”

Me: “But I’m taking stock; it’s just an idiom. Because I’m not sure yet whether the medicine is working.”

Nurse: “Would you like me to have the pharmacy give you a call?”

Me: “That would probably help. Thank you.”

America, Ladies And Gents!
BILLING, COLORADO, EDITORS' CHOICE, HEALTH & BODY, HOSPITAL, NON-DIALOGUE, STUPID, USA | HEALTHY | APRIL 6, 2020
My dad needed to get his physical done and went to our family doctor. The doctor’s office was located in a sort of strip mall setup along with other private practitioners and specialists. This building was, in turn, located directly adjacent to the actual local hospital, even sharing the same parking lot.

As part of the physical, my dad was getting blood drawn but the nurse had difficulty getting their needle into his veins, meaning he had a needle probing in his body much longer than usual. Eventually, his body decided enough was enough and he seized.

Worried for his health, they quickly loaded my dad onto a gurney and wheeled him across the parking lot to the ER where he was quickly diagnosed as being fine. After he recovered, the blood draw was rescheduled and he headed home.

Fast forward a few weeks: a bill from the hospital arrived. Since he’d gone to the ER, my dad was expecting a high price, but this proved to be even more than expected by several hundred dollars.

Looking through the itemized bill, it was mostly the expected expenses: ER visit, fluids, etc. What stuck out was the several-hundred-dollar ambulance service my dad apparently got from being wheeled across the parking lot on a gurney.

He fought the bill, saying he might have paid if they’d at least put him in an ambulance and let him turn on the siren.

Finally, Someone With A Dose Of Sense
CALIFORNIA, PHARMACY, RECEPTION, USA, VET | HEALTHY | APRIL 3, 2020
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

There are certain medications that can be used in both humans and animals, but usually, the dosages are very different. One of these medications is Phenobarbital, a seizure medication. Our office doesn’t keep this medication in stock so we have to call it in to a human pharmacy.

One of our canine patients is on Phenobarbital. He has been stable on his dose for years, but they do not make a pill in the size he needs, so we prescribe him two different sizes to add up to the right amount. Apparently, this is not regularly done with humans, because every time we call in his medication we get a call from the pharmacy to confirm some things. So, we put a note on his file with what to say when they call back.

I am training a new receptionist and have just had her call in his refill authorization. Soon after. we get the expected call from the pharmacist. She has the pharmacy on hold and asks what to do, so I tell her to open his chart and read the script.

New Receptionist: “Hello. Apparently, I have to read this note to you. Yes, he needs both sizes. Yes, at the same time. Yes, we know this is a very large dose for a human, but he is a dog. He is a very large dog. He has been taking the pills like this for years now. Thank you.”

I am sitting there listening to her side of this, fighting the urge to facepalm, and thinking it was pretty obvious that those were meant to be the responses to questions she would be asked and not to be read straight through like that.

The pharmacist says something and she replies:

New Receptionist: “I’m not sure. Um, looks like the note was dated four years ago.” *Pause* “Um, I think so; let me check.” *Turns to me* “Hey, [My Name], have we been saying this every time we call his medication in?”

I nod and she turns back to the phone.

New Receptionist: “Yeah, we have.” *Pause* “Really? That’d probably save everyone some time. Thanks.” *Hangs up* “They are going to put a copy of our note on their computers so they don’t have to keep calling in every time.”

Me: “Wait, they could do that? I thought it was a requirement for them to confirm odd-sounding doses, and that the phone calls were just formalities so they could check a box saying they did it. How did none of them ever notice that we were having the same conversation every four months?”

We no longer get confirmation calls for that patient.

Didn’t Pass The Think-It-Through Checkpoint
ALBERTA, CANADA, CURRENT EVENTS, HEALTH & BODY, MEDICAL OFFICE, PARENTS/GUARDIANS | HEALTHY | APRIL 2, 2020
It’s -17C, windchill to -19C, but the cutoff for “don’t take the baby outside unless the house is on fire” is -20 including windchill, so I bundle her three outfits deep under her snowsuit, mittens, toque, and bunting, and catch the bus to an appointment. She’s asleep by the time we get there, but I’m wide awake, cheeks frosty, steps quick. Stepping in, I find an antiviral checkpoint just inside the front door, manned by a guy in a white bodysuit and a blue mask.

My first thought: “Oh, no, zombies!”

I might be very slightly drunk on sleep deprivation.

Checkpoint Guy: “Hi, there! Just before you step in, can I ask you some questions?”

Me: “Sure.”

[Checkpoint Guy] asks about travel and a list of symptoms. I answer each question the same way.

Me: “Nope.”

Checkpoint Guy: “All righty, then. Let me just check your guys’ temperatures — or I assume you’ve got a passenger in there!”

Me: “Yup!”

I crack open one of the hoods, displaying a bundle of cloth that has two cheeks, two closed eyes, a nose, and no other visible skin.

Checkpoint Guy: “Awww! I shouldn’t have to wake her up. Just that little cheeky-cheek should be good!”

I think of my own frosty cheeks.

Me: “Her cheek’s going to be pretty cold.”

Checkpoint Guy: “Yup! Little cheeky-cheek!”

His remote thermometer beeps and shows 30.

Checkpoint Guy: “Okey-dokey! Now, I need to do you.”

Me: “Sure.”

[Checkpoint Guy] beeps my cheek.

Checkpoint Guy: “Yup! You’re good! Just have some hand sanitizer and you’re on your way!”

Me: “Sure.”

I use sanitizer, go through, and push the elevator button.

New Voice Behind Me: “Aren’t you cold?”

Checkpoint Guy: “Nope! I’m good! I’ve got long johns, extra shirts, and warm gloves under the medical gloves. Standing right by the door all day — I’m prepared!”

Pause.

Checkpoint Guy: “You know, everyone I’ve checked has read really low, like 30 degrees. Do you think it’s because they just came in from the outdoors?”

Yes, I mentioned this hitch to the doctor I saw.

On April First, Trust No One
EDITORS' CHOICE, FAMILY & KIDS, HOLIDAYS, HOSPITAL, NURSES, PENNSYLVANIA, PRANKS, USA | HEALTHY | APRIL 1, 2020
My wife was in labor for about twenty hours before deciding to do a cesarean section. I am 6’8″ tall and about 300 pounds. During our visits through the pregnancy, I regularly joked around with the doctor. Even in the Lamaze classes, I would joke around, typically embarrassing my beautiful wife.

My oldest son was born via C-Section at 11:50 PM on March 31st. I was there, I watched, and I was exhausted. It was gruesome and awesome at the same time.

I was extremely emotional — had a son! I was crying tears of joy.

After he was extracted from his nine-month sentence inside of my wife, he was swaddled appropriately by the nurses in the operating room. We were both then whisked away: him to the nursery to get de-munged, and me to see my large family — brothers, parents,

Godparents, etc. — all of whom were at the hospital waiting in anticipation of the big event.

So, there I was, telling my family that we had a beautiful boy, and that everyone was okay. I was blubbering as tears were still streaming.

All of a sudden, in an over-the-top manner, a nurse came running around the corner and said, “Mr. [My Name], Mr. [My Name]! They need you back in the operating room! The second one just came out!”

Huh, what? What? WHAT?! Oh, my God! I started running down the hall to go back to the operating room. I’ve never been considered graceful, and it really wasn’t pretty to see me lumbering down the hall.

I heard the nurse call out again, “MR. [MY NAME]!”

My response was dramatic and immediate as I spun to look at her. “WHAT?” I exclaimed.

With a very calm demeanor and a twinkle in her eye, she said, very matter-of-factly, “April Fools.”

I could have been knocked over with a feather. I stammered and stammered. Meanwhile, my family, who witnessed the event, were in stitches enjoying the whole scene as it played out in front of them.

In the operating room, my wife was laughing (while being stitched back together). All of this was the doctor’s idea, II suppose a little of my own medicine after enduring me throughout the pregnancy.

It’s a story that I tell often, not only for the humor in it, but also because it was one of the greatest days of my life: the day I met a great person, my wonderful son.

April Is A Nice Name
CALIFORNIA, CHILDREN, HOSPITAL, PRANKS, SONS & DAUGHTERS, USA | HEALTHY | APRIL 1, 2020
It is April Fool’s Day. I go into the hospital for a scheduled cesarean for my third child. Thanks to both a blood test and an ultrasound, we know we’re having a boy. The surgery starts, and it doesn’t go as expected.

Doctor: “Oh, wow, look at that!”

Surgical Tech: “Oh, my gosh.”

Me: “What?”

Doctor: “Okay, it’s a girl.”

Me & Husband: “What?”

Husband: “Did you say, ‘girl’?”

I just started laughing. And that’s how our daughter entered the world — by conning us into thinking she was going to be a boy, and revealing her true nature on April Fools Day. Well played, baby. Well played.

At Least The Names They Picked Had Letters In Them
CALIFORNIA, EDITORS' CHOICE, FUNNY NAMES, PETS & ANIMALS, SILLY, USA, VET | HEALTHY | MARCH 30, 2020
I work for a vet, and I’m checking in a new patient. She was adopted from a shelter about a year ago and is now due for her annual exam and vaccines. Her entire family comes with her: Mom, Dad, and three pre-teen or teen children.

Me: “The shelter paperwork says her name is Princess. Is that still her name?”

I get five very clear negative responses.

Me: “So, what is her new name?”

Simultaneously, each from a different person, I hear the names Molly, Fluffy, Annie, Coco, and Jessie. They then fall into a several-minute-long discussion of names where they actually end up adding at least three other options. I let them continue until an exam room is available and then lead them in and put the chart on the doctor’s ready pile. When the doctor grabs her chart, he gives me a look.

Me: “It’s the only thing they all agreed on.”

The doctor shrugs and walks into the room.

Doctor: “So, this is the dog formerly known as Princess?”

This Debt Collector Had Better Hope HE Has Insurance
DEBT COLLECTION, EMPLOYEES, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, INSURANCE, JERK, USA | HEALTHY | MARCH 29, 2020
(I’m a broke college student supporting myself with student loans, whatever hours I can get at my work-study job, and the small amount of money my parents can spare. Luckily, I’m still on my parents’ insurance. When I get into a bad bike accident and have to get stitches and x-rays at the hospital, their insurance covers the bill. It’s been a couple of months since then when I answer a call from a number I don’t recognize.)

Caller: “Am I speaking to [My Name]?”

Me: “This is her.”

Caller: “My name is [Caller], and I’m calling on behalf of [Debt Collection Agency] about an unpaid medical bill.”

Me: “What? I didn’t think I had any unpaid bills.”

Caller: “The bill is [amount] for an ambulance ride on [date of the bike accident].”

Me: “But my insurance covered that!”

Caller: “Sometimes insurance doesn’t cover certain services, like ambulances, if they are seen as unnecessary.”

(The ambulance was definitely necessary since there was a suspicion at the time that I’d seriously injured my neck and I was bleeding profusely from my head.)

Caller: “The billing department attempted to contact you multiple times, but you’ve consistently ignored them. Now the bill has been sent to us, and it will negatively affect your credit. However, if you pay it right now, we can try to remove it from your credit report. How will you be paying today, [Card #1 ] or [Card #2]?”

Me: “Um, I won’t be paying today. I need to contact my insurance company to see what’s going on. This should have been covered, and I’ve never heard of it before today.”

Caller: “If you don’t pay today, your credit will be negatively affected. You will never be able to get a loan, a mortgage, or a credit card.”

Me: “I need to talk to my insurance company before I do anything.”

(He keeps trying to convince me, so I eventually just hang up. I contact my insurance company and find that no claim was ever submitted for the ambulance trip and that they would have covered it if it was. Then, I call the hospital billing department to figure this out. It takes a very long time to reach the right person, but I finally find out what happened.

In an amazing display of incompetence, someone had billed it to the wrong insurance company in the wrong state using the wrong contact details. Obviously, that claim was denied, so they sent the bill to whatever address they’d written on the claim. With this level of screwing up, I’m guessing they mixed up my file with someone else’s.

Luckily, the person I talk to is more helpful, and she gets all the information she needs to submit the claim to my real insurance. She also promises to take the whole incident off my credit report once everything’s done. However, it will take several weeks at the very least for the claim to go through. In the meantime, I get another call several days later from the same bill collector.)

Caller: *after making sure he’s speaking to me* “Our records indicate that you still haven’t paid your bill. What payment method–”

Me: *cutting him off before he can get too far into this* “I’ve contacted my insurance and the hospital’s billing department and gotten the whole thing sorted out. There was a billing mistake. Many, in fact. But the claim has been properly submitted to my insurance now. It just takes a while to go through.”

Caller: “Well, you still haven’t paid. It’s on your credit report. I can’t take it off at this point since you’ve refused to pay it once already, but paying today will make sure your credit doesn’t get even worse. How will you be paying today, [Card #1 ] or [Card #2]?”

Me: “As I said, my insurance is paying it. We just have to wait for the claim to go through.”

Caller: “But your credit–”

Me: “The billing department said they’d take it off my credit report completely, as they’re the ones who made the mistake.”

Caller: “I’m looking at your credit report right now, and it’s not looking good.”

Me: “The claim was only submitted a few days ago. It hasn’t gone through yet.”

Caller: “If you pay in full right now, this will go away immediately. No need to wait for the claim to go through.”

Me: “Hold on. You want me to pay for something that I never needed to pay for in the first place, just to speed things up? That’s ridiculous! And even if I was going to pay, it’s not like I have that kind of money just lying around.”

Caller: “Surely you have some jewelry or electronics you could sell. I can give you the address of a pawn shop nearby.”

Me: “What? No! I didn’t mean I intended to pay you. My insurance is paying it directly to the hospital. We all just have to be patient.”

(This went back and forth for a while. It became clear that he was working on commission and wouldn’t get any money if the bill was paid through the insurance company. Eventually, I just had to hang up on him again, since it was obvious he was not giving up. He continued to call me multiple times a day for weeks, sometimes during class. Finally, the claim went through, and the debt collector stopped calling.)

This Doctor Is Such A Headache
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, LAZY/UNHELPFUL, MEDICAL OFFICE, THE NETHERLANDS | HEALTHY | MARCH 27, 2020
(I have had headaches all my life, but they suddenly become chronic, so I visit the doctor.)

Me: “I have a headache about five days of the week, and I have sleeping problems. I’m not sure which one is causing the other, though.”

(I proceed to give the doctor a list of things I’ve tried and checked, such as diet, climate, schedule, workout regimes, etc.)

Doctor: “I usually recommend a headache diary, but it seems you know pretty well what you’re doing. I suggest reading an hour before going to bed, instead of looking at a screen; that will help.”

Me: “No, that’s not it. I have gone screenless for three weeks but still had headaches. Also, reading before going to bed makes me have trouble falling asleep.”

Doctor: “Oh. Well, I still recommend reading an hour before bed instead of screen time.”

Me: “I am an avid reader, and I assure you that this is not the solution.”

(After going back and forth a few times…)

Doctor: “Well, I still recommend you try it.”

(She then proceeded to walk me to the door, indicating that the consultation was over. When I was back at home fuming, my husband suggested going to get my eyes checked. It turns out, I needed glasses! I could still see sharply, but the strain on my eyes caused the headaches. They were mostly strained by… reading. I’m glad I didn’t listen to the doctor, because more reading would have worsened the headaches. I have a new doctor now.)

The Squeaky Needle Gets The Sweets
MASSACHUSETTS, MEDICAL OFFICE, NURSES, PATIENTS, SILLY, USA | HEALTHY | MARCH 25, 2020
(My immunization records for college are incomplete, so I need to get a couple of shots. I hate needles, but I can distract myself from the pain by chatting with the nurse. However, some shots are just more painful than others, and for this particular one I swear and go pale.)

Nurse: “All right, you’re all set! Are you feeling okay?”

Me: *sigh* “Yeah, I’m fine.”

(I pause.)

Me: “I mean…” *fake childish voice* “Wah! It hurts! I want a lolly!”

(I laugh. The nurse arches a brow.)

Nurse: “Do you actually want a lollipop? We’ve got some.”

Me: “What?! YES!”

(The nurse left and came back a minute later with a small bucket of lollipops. I picked a blue raspberry pop and proceeded to text several friends to brag about it.)

Fluffy’s More High-Maintenance Than Most Pets Of His Kind
AWESOME, CALIFORNIA, GOLDEN YEARS, PETS & ANIMALS, USA, VET | HEALTHY | MARCH 23, 2020
(I work at the front desk at an animal clinic that is located on a street with many assisted living facilities. Most of them are not pet-friendly — they may have an office cat but residents can’t have personal pets — except for the largest of them which is right next door and pet-friendly.

We have a deal with the management of this facility where, whenever a new resident moves in with an animal, we set them up as a patient with us, the facility handles all their billing, we send care instructions to them to make sure the residents don’t forget the doses, and when making appointments we contact both the owner and the facility so they can make sure the owner doesn’t have something else scheduled that day and doesn’t forget their appointment.

For the humans who think they are more self-sufficient than they really are, we make sure someone from the facility is available and needs to take “important paperwork” over to the clinic at the same time the owner needs to leave, to make sure they get there and back safely. Sometimes they slip through alone, though, or decide they have an appointment when we don’t have them on the books, so we are used to having random elderly people coming in.

A clearly distraught elderly woman carrying a small dog carrier comes in one day.)

Woman: “Please, you have to help me!”

Me: “What can we do?”

Woman: “It’s Fluffy! He’s not acting right and I think I need to put him to sleep.” *sobs*

Me: “Oh, dear, we’ll get you and Fluffy in to see the doctor and take a look at him to decide if that is the best thing to do, okay? Now, what is your name so I can pull your chart?”

Woman: “It’s [Name I don’t have in my system].”

Me: “I can’t find you on the computer; have you been in before?”

Woman: “Oh, no, Fluffy and I just moved into our new apartment today and you are so much closer than his old doctor.”

(I figure she is so new the facility hasn’t had time to bring us her paperwork, so I get Fluffy’s age and breed and go about making a chart. We’ll get the rest of her information from the facility when we contact them. Thankfully, we’ve had a cancelation so I can get her into an exam room right away.

A while later, she comes out of the exam room with the doctor, with one of our techs carrying the carrier for her, much happier than when she came in.)

Woman: “And you really think it will cure him, Doctor?”

Doc: “If it doesn’t, you just have your doorman give me a call and we’ll get you back in, no charge. Now, I’m going to have my son carry Fluffy home for you. You have a good day.”

(The doctor is referring to our tech who isn’t actually his son, but that’s the code we use to let the front desk know the resident is not paying us directly and to just smile and say goodbye rather than following the normal checkout process. As soon as she and the tech are out of the building I turn to the doctor.)

Me: “So, we’re charging an exam and what else?”

Doctor: “Nothing.”

Me: “So, just the exam?”

Doctor: “No, Fluffy isn’t real.”

Me: “What?!”

Doctor: “He’s a stuffed toy; he’s just been laying around all day for weeks now. So, I told her we were going to try an experimental treatment, and if it works, that’s great, and if not, she can bring him in to be put to sleep later. Then, I drew up some air from an empty vial and injected it. She said he already looks perkier. Poor thing; she is really far gone.”

(Tech returned almost an hour later. The woman wasn’t from the facility next door, or even the one on the other side of them. She was from the one almost all the way down the block, and they had to check into all of them because she couldn’t recall which apartment building she lived in.

To their staff’s credit, they thought she had gone to get lunch with her daughter and her daughter thought her mom was taking a nap after an exhausting morning of moving in. Nobody knew Fluffy had been feeling bad, or that he was capable of feeling bad.

The experimental treatment worked great for a month, and then Fluffy relapsed and had to come in for another treatment. We gave him his shot once a month for three years, and then one day he just stopped coming in.

Six months later, the daughter brought him in; her mom had become too ill to take Fluffy for his shots so she had just taken him out of the building for a bit and then come back and told her mom he’d had his shot, and now her mom said she couldn’t take care of Fluffy anymore so could we find him a new home. We found him a nice place in the doctor’s office; he’s our supervisor.)

What A Doll
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, JERK, NON-DIALOGUE, USA | HEALTHY | MARCH 22, 2020
I was born prematurely and at low birth weight. I was four pounds, five ounces at birth. I had none of the typical newborn baby fat; my cheeks were flat and my head was bulging, while the rest of me was skinny and angular. To be blunt, I looked like an alien. Other than that, however, I was perfectly healthy and was discharged a day later. My mother took me for my first doctor’s appointment to a well-known, established pediatrician in town, who was known for being rather coarse in mannerisms but otherwise knowledgeable.

He went through all the usual tasks of a newborn check-up including checking normal infant reflexes. One of them was the step reflex, in which a newborn appears to walk or step when they are held upright and their feet touch a flat surface. The doctor, for some reason, used his hand as the flat surface, and this procedure ended with him supporting my neck and back with one hand and my feet with the other. He looked at me, looked at my mother, and then mimed — with me — a jaunty little dance through the air. To my mother, he remarked, “Look, it’s E.T. riding a bike!”

He honestly couldn’t understand why my mother didn’t find that nearly as amusing as he did. Or why my mother found a new pediatrician.

And she gets annoyed when I point out that, in his defense, I did look like a tiny, baby alien dressed in doll’s clothes.