Holistic Medicine and the Western Medical Tradition

Why Nurses Should Rule The World, Part 3
FAST FOOD, JERK | RIGHT | FEBRUARY 26, 2013
(I arrive at work an hour and a half early because I forgot what time I start. I decide to sit in the lobby and have lunch before my shift. I notice that the trash can is in dire need of being emptied and that the front counter is busier than usual. I start to tie the bag up, when a customer screeches at me.)

Customer: “What do you think you’re doing?”

Me: “Just changing the garbage, ma’am. It was full to overflowing and it was too busy for someone to leave their post and do it.”

Customer: “You don’t have to do that, young man! You’re not one of these dropouts that lives in their parent’s basements who can’t do anything better with their lives! What are you taking?”

Me: “I’m planning on becoming a licensed practical nurse. But, ma’am, I don’t just go to school. I work to pay my bills. As a matter of fact, I live in a condo my mother owns. She does not live with me, and I pay rent to her. I pay for my electricity, my Internet, and my heating. How do I earn the money for this, you ask?”

(At this point I remove my hat from my bag, put it on and remove my coat, revealing that I am dressed in my work uniform.)

Me: “I work here, taking whatever hours I can get. A student without anything on their resume will take any job they can. ”

(I point to one of my coworkers who is mopping the floors at the back of the store.)

Me: “She’s a neuroscience student. Just like me she has bills to pay. In the future, please remember that people who work in fast food are not always drop outs, but more often than not students trying to fund their education. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take out this trash, unless you would like me to help extract your foot from your mouth first.”

(Flustered and obviously embarrassed, the customer leaves the store in a hurry. My manager, who is also a classmate of mine, speaks with me once I return from the dumpsters.)

Manager: “Technically, you could be fired for badmouthing a customer while on the job like that.”

Me: “Technically, I’m not working right now! I haven’t clocked in, and my shift’s not for another half hour.”

Manager: “Well then, brave citizen, how does free apple pie sound?”

(I accepted, of course. You just don’t say no to free pie!)

Why Nurses Should Rule The World, Part 2
RESTAURANT | RIGHT | FEBRUARY 8, 2013
(I am out to breakfast with some friends from work.)

Me: “Excuse me, do you know if the cook uses milk to make the omelets or just eggs?”

Waitress: “Just eggs. Are you allergic to milk?”

Me: “No, but I am lactose intolerant and I forgot to bring my meds.”

(We all order our food. However, after the waitress leaves, I overhear someone from the table next to us asking for a manager.)

Other Customer: *loudly* “I want to complain about that waitress. I heard her interrogating that poor woman about her personal medical issues! I’m a doctor and I know you can’t just ask people about things like that! It’s against the law! She could sue you!”

Me: *to the other customer* “Excuse me, before things get out of hand here, I’m the person she’s talking about. First of all, our waitress asked if I had an allergy to milk. It was a good question considering I made a point of asking if some of your foods have milk in it. If I was really allergic, the kitchen would have to take extra precautions to avoid anaphylaxis. Secondly, there’s no such law that I know of unless you’re talking about the laws in place to protect your private health information from being accessed by other people without your permission. I don’t see how those would apply in this case.”

Other Customer: “What the h*** are you talking about? What are you, some kind of lawyer, smarta**?”

My Friend: “No, ‘doctor,’ she’s some kind of nurse.”

(We all pulled out our hospital IDs. The “doctor” shut up after that. The manager thanked us for clearing things up and left, and our waitress gave us a free round of cheesecake with a free lactose-free muffin for me!)

This Story Just Drugs On And On And On
PHARMACY | RIGHT | FEBRUARY 9, 2013
(I work at a pharmacy, both as a tech and at the till when necessary. It is a Sunday, so the pharmacy is not heavily staffed. The sole customer waiting is a man, late 20s to early 30s, wearing a pink button-up shirt.)

Me: “Hello, sir. How can I help you?”

Pink Guy: “Six for [Name].”

(I search the current container and find five prescriptions. It’s not uncommon for a prescription to be put in adjacent containers if the proper one is too full, which this one likely was. I search the other containers but don’t find anything.)

Me: “One sec, I have to check the computer.”

(I check the computer. I do verify he has six prescriptions to pick up.)

Me: “Sorry about that. Can I verify the date of birth, please?”

Pink Guy: “What is this? You want my date of birth now?”

Me: “Yes sir, to verify the prescription.”

Pink Guy: “You guys never asked for that before.”

(I am roughly two years’ tenure in the pharmacy, and that has been a part of policy since day one.)

Me: “If I could just verify the date of birth to make sure there isn’t another person with the same name?”

Pink Guy: “It’s not very likely you’d have two people with the same exact name. I suppose you want me to verify my social security number in case someone has both my name and my birthday?”

(We actually do have two people with the same name and birthday.)

Me: “Not necessarily. I would go by address or phone number first.”

Pink Guy: “I’m not comfortable giving you my date of birth.”

Me: “I already have a date of birth here. I just need you to verify at least the month and the day.”

Pink Guy: *crossing his arms* “Fine. But just know that you’ve never asked me for this before and I’ve been coming here for years. It’s [birthday].”

Me: “Thank you, sir.” *check each of the prescriptions* “Okay. And I have all six prescriptions.”

Pink Guy: “Six?”

Me: “Yes, sir, six prescriptions.”

Pink Guy: “Not seven?”

Me: “Was there more?”

Pink Guy: “There should be one more.”

Me: “Okay, let me check the computer.”

(I go back to the computer, and re-enter him just to refresh the data. I verify each prescription that I have and make sure he doesn’t have another one that he usually refilled; none pop out.)

Me: “I only have six prescriptions for you, sir.”

Pink Guy: *with an inflection implying I’m a moron* “And there aren’t any for my wife?”

Me: “Oh, I see. It’s under another name.” *without asking him, I query by address, and find his wife. I see that she does have a pending prescription, but there’s a catch* “Did you call it in today?”

Pink Guy: “Yeah, I called it in this morning. It said it’d be ready tomorrow but I figured you guys would have it ready by now.”

Me: *explaining casually* “Well, not exactly. You see, when you call it in it actually gets picked up by an outside pharmacy and they fill it and ship it to us next-day. You did it through the automated system, right?”

Pink Guy: “Well, yeah. I’ve done it before and you guys had it ready.”

Me: “Well… I’m not sure about that time, but I do know the automated system tells you when the pickup is and then asks if you want it earlier; if you select that you want it earlier it sends it to us. Maybe that just didn’t go through this time.”

Pink Guy: “No, I just assumed you’d have it ready by now.”

(Well, at least he’s honest.)

Me: “Well, I’m sorry but we don’t. But I can pull it and we can fill it here. The pharmacist is out to lunch, but when he gets back in about ten minutes he’ll fill it right away. Do you have some shopping you could do or would you like to wait in the waiting area?”

(The pharmacist is behind the counter, but I’m not going to bother him unless I absolutely have to.)

Pink Guy: “No! I don’t have time for all of this crap! If you guys aren’t ready I’ll just waste my time and gas and get it tomorrow! I’m in a hurry!”

Me: “I’m sorry about that, sir.”

(I start scanning and bagging the prescriptions. He reaches across the counter at me to tear the bag away from me.)

Me: “Excuse me, just a sec, sir. I need you to verify the information on the screen.”

Pink Guy: “I thought you already verified everything. That’s why I gave you my date of birth!”

Me: “I need you to verify everything on the screen. Make sure all of the information is correct and hit ‘next’ in the lower-right of the screen.”

(Without looking at the screen, he hits the ‘back’ button at the lower-left.)

Me: *re-initializing the verification phase* “It’s the ‘next’ button on the lower-right, sir.”

(Second time’s the charm. He still doesn’t look at the screen.)

Me: “And if you could sign to verify you’ve picked up the prescriptions.”

Pink Guy: *mutters a signing-my-life-away cliche* “There. Are we done?” *extends his hand, expectantly*

Me: “Not quite. Your total comes to $20.”

Pink Guy: “Are you kidding me!? You make me go through all that and then you expect me to fork over $20? I have insurance! It covers everything! You must not have run it through, you idiots. Go check your little computer and you’ll see. I have never had to pay anything for my meds!”

(I go to the computer and refresh his information.)

Me: “It shows here we ran it through [Insurance]. They paid [amount] toward the prescription, leaving you with a co-pay of $20. The last time you got it, on [date], they paid [amount minus $20] and therefore you had a $40 co-pay. And you’ve had a $40 co-pay the last 3 times you picked this medication up.”

Pink Guy: “This is ridiculous! Whatever.” *pulls out his checkbook* “Can I get $100 cash-back?”

Me: “No, sir, the limit is $50. And, I’m sorry, but I don’t have enough in my till.”

Pink Guy: “Well… can’t you get more?”

Me: “I could, but it’d be faster for you if you just got a bottle of water and get cash-back up at the front.”

Pink Guy: *standing up defiantly* “I’m not making two transactions. I’ll wait.”

Me: “Okay. Your total is $70, and the date is [date].”

Pink Guy: “You said it was $20 before!”

Me: “Right. $20, plus $50 cash-back is $70.”

(He proceeds to write his check.)

Pink Guy: “Can I have my cash-back?”

Me: “I need to run the check first.”

(With a great show of impatience and contempt he tears the check out and hands it to me. It’s policy to verify the check by hand before running it through the feeder. Before even turning it my direction, I see he hasn’t signed it.)

Me: “Could you please sign the check?”

(He clicks his pen and makes a very dramatic and flourish display of signing the check.)

Me: “Thank you.” *I start to validate the check, the date is wrong by a few days* “I’m going to change it to today’s date and initial it, okay?”

Pink Guy: “Fine, whatever.”

(I check everything, saving the amount for last since I know it’s cash-back and I want to verify they match properly. But… there’s a problem.

Me: “Sir, I’m afraid I’ll need you to write a new check.”

Pink Guy: “What the he-why!?”

Me: “Because. You wrote the amount for $120, but the limit for cash-back is $50, and that’s how much I asked for.”

Pink Guy: “Well here!” *takes the check from me, scribbles all over it, and writes the new amounts in as tiny as he can above the errata* “There. You need my driver’s license?”

Me: “No, sir, I need you to write a new check. This one is illegible and I can’t accept it into my till.”

Pink Guy: “Screw you! Fine, forget the cash-back. I’ll just pay with my card.”

(He pulls the card out, and swipes it. But it’s too fast, I have to hit a button first.)

Me: “Okay, your card is ready to swipe.”

Pink Guy: “I already swiped it.”

Me: “I wasn’t ready in time, sorry. I have to hit a button for it to take. It’s ready now, though.”

Pink Guy: “The machine said it was ready!”

Me: “That’s the default screen. It always says that. I know it’s irritating. I wish they’d change it.”

(He swipes his card again, and poises with his pen. I expect him to start with the card transaction, but notice he’s still standing there after a second.)

Pink Guy: “Well?”

(I look at my screen, and realize it hasn’t taken the card still. I clear it and prime it again.)

Me: “Try it again, please?”

Pink Guy: “No! You’ll charge me twice!”

Me: “It won’t charge you twice. I promise. It only charges when you approve the amount and sign.”

Pink Guy: “If it charges me twice I’ll get you fired.”

Me: “I promise. It won’t charge you twice.”

(He poises with the card and practically stares me down as if judging the worth of my soul as he slides the card through. It’s then I notice the magnet strip is in his fingers.)

Me: “May I see your card, sir?”

Pink Guy: *apparently giving up, he responds less angrily than I expected* “Take it.”

(I take the card and swipe it through the correct way, setting it on the counter. Once again he poises with the pen, waiting for the prompt, and again, I notice it’s taking him a tad longer than other people. I look at the screen just as he comments.)

Pink Guy: “It’s still not doing anything.”

(I pick up his card, and take in a breath. It’s a ditch effort, but I enter the card number manually. No dice. I hand his card back.)

Me: “I’m sorry sir, your card won’t go through. Do you have another method of payment?” (It has been rejected.)

Pink Guy: “What the h***!” *literally throws the card at me, hitting my chest, and I catch it* “That’s a new f****** card! Of course it’ll take! Your computer is stupid!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir.”

(He leaves, and I continue the day setting any emotions aside to deal with for later. I put his credit card in with one of the scripts and make a note of it for whoever has to handle it. Later that week, the pharmacist, who had been sitting behind the counter that whole time, talks to me during a slow hour.)

Pharmacist: “Hey, [My Name], you remember Mr. [Pink Guy] from the other day?”

Me: “Yeah, what about him?”

Pharmacist: “His wife came by the next day. I did the transaction. She picked up all seven scripts. She didn’t say anything about the price. Paid with a perfect check, and got the $50 cash-back.”

Me: “So, she didn’t give you any trouble?”

Pharmacist: “No, not at all.”

Me: “Well, good. At least that whole thing happened on a slow day.”

Pharmacist: “Yeah. Anyway, here.” *takes a Barnes & Noble gift card from his smock pocket and sets it on the counter* “Consider this an apology from Mr. [Pink Guy].”

(The gift card was for $75.)

Circumcise What I Just Said From Your Minds
AUSTRALIA, HOSPITAL, NURSES | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 20, 2019
(I have just given birth to my son and am with the nurse who is head of the maternity section. It just happens that we went to school together.)

Nurse: “So, we just have to get some things out of the way. First, do you want him circumcised?”

Me: “No, definitely not.”

Nurse: “Thank goodness. Do you know how horrible it is? They do it without anaesthesia and basically just cut the foreskin off with scissors. The poor babies go through so much pain, it makes me sick every time a parent wants it done, and I’m not allowed to try to talk anyone out of it or… um… say what I just said.”

Not What They Mean By Getting Plenty Of Bed Rest
ASSISTED LIVING, GOLDEN YEARS, MICHIGAN, RUDE & RISQUE, USA | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 19, 2019
(A group of residents with varying stages of dementia is sitting around a table having coffee near my desk in the front lobby. One of them asks a question of the others…)

Resident #1 : “What happened to my hand?”

(She has a bruise over her wrist and the back of her hand.)

Resident #2 : “You fell out of your bed, remember? You landed on it.”

Resident #1 : “Oh! I must have been having a good time in bed!”

(Both women cracked up laughing while the two men with them looked shocked. I managed to hold it together so they didn’t know I was listening in.)

Don’t Grit Your Teeth To This
ASSISTED LIVING, GOLDEN YEARS, SWEDEN | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 18, 2019
(I am helping an old lady getting ready for bed one evening at the nursing home. A part of that includes assisting her with brushing her teeth. Some old people have dentures, and I can’t remember whether this lady has or not.)

Me: “Do you have your own teeth?”

Resident: “Yes, I do.”

Me: “Okay, then, here’s your toothbrush.”

(The lady then pops out her dentures.)

Me: “I thought you had your own teeth?”

Resident: “I do. I bought and paid for them myself.”

Smoking? There’s An App For That
BAD BEHAVIOR, HOSPITAL, KANSAS, NURSES, USA | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 17, 2019
(I am in the hospital after falling down a flight of stairs. My ankle is fractured.)

Me: “Excuse me. Can you please hand me my phone?”

Nurse: “No.”

Me: “What? Why not?”

Nurse: *huffy* “Well, it says on your chart that you’re a smoker. I’m not going to give you your phone so you can buy more cigarettes.”

Me: “I wasn’t planning on buying anything; I wanted to update my family and friends.”

Nurse: “I don’t believe you. I know your kind. You think you’re special because you destroy your body with drugs. I’m not letting you buy drugs!”

Me: “All right, let’s see what a patient advocate thinks about what you just said.”

Nurse: *goes pale and hands me my phone*

(Later, when I told my dad about it, he told the doctor, who rolled his eyes and said we weren’t the first to complain.)

Choked By Your Own Doctor
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, IOWA, JERK, MEDICAL OFFICE, USA | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 16, 2019
(I’ve had serious sinus/throat/ear problems for most of my life, along with pretty severe anxiety disorder; it’s so bad I was put on anti-anxiety meds at eight years old. Unfortunately, since I have an anxiety disorder, most of my problems have been brushed off as panic until they’re either too late to fix properly or until I fight with the doctors. I miss a pretty good bit of school because my ears hurt or I feel like I am choking, and I will go to the doctor each time. Each time, the pediatrician tells me, “It’s just a viral infection,” or, “It’s just your anxiety acting up.”)

Me: “I really don’t think this is viral; I’ve been coming in every month or so for two years or so.”

Doctor: “It’s just viral. I think you just like getting out of school, too.” *nudge nudge wink wink*

Me: “Uh, no. My grades are taking a hit. I can barely breathe and I feel like I’m choking constantly. This is not a panic thing, and it’s obviously not viral; otherwise, it wouldn’t always come back. Maybe you should do your job and actually figure out what’s wrong?”

Mom: *staring in shock because I’m not one to smart off*

Doctor: “If you can smart off like that, then you don’t need to see a pediatrician any more!”

(My mom schedules an appointment at a different doctor’s office, with a different doctor. I’m freaking out because I’ve never seen another doctor before in my fifteen years and many, MANY doctors appointments.)

New Doctor: *looks in my mouth* “Oh, my God! Your tonsils are huge. Like, can you breathe at all?”

Me: “No, not really. I always feel like I’m choking.”

New Doctor: “These have to come out.”

(So, I got my tonsils out, along with my adenoids. The surgeon told me they were the biggest he’d ever seen. I no longer feel like I’m being choked to death constantly. But having your tonsils pulled out at sixteen sucks.)

With So Many Fillings He Has Become Very Dense
DENTIST, JERK, MICHIGAN, PATIENTS, STUPID, USA | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 15, 2019
Patient: “Why do I need an x-ray?”

Me: “To check for problems [Doctor] might have missed.”

Patient: “Problems like what?”

Me: “Cavities between your teeth and under your fillings, and gum disease.”

Patient: “If [Doctor]’s eyesight is so bad that he can’t even see cavities anymore, why is he still a dentist?”

Me: “There is nothing wrong with [Doctor]’s eyesight, sir. It would be impossible for anyone to look underneath fillings and in between your teeth.”

Patient: “So, I just let him poke around my mouth for nothing? Why didn’t you tell me that right away? I would have skipped the exam and just done the x-ray. Now I need to pay for something that is completely useless. You are ripping me off. I’ll get a second opinion.”

Me: “You are welcome to do that. But they’ll want to do an exam, as well.”

Patient: “I’ll tell them that you already did.”

Me: “They’ll still want to actually look at your teeth. Believe me.”

Patient: “So, you are trying to tell me that they’ll rip me off, too?”

Me: “Sir, an x-ray is more expensive than an exam.”

Patient: “Oh, if you do the x-ray, can I take that to my second opinion dentist?”

Me: “Yes.”

Patient: “So, I’m right. The exam is useless.”

Me: “Do you want an x-ray or not now?”

Patient: “Do I get a refund if you don’t find anything?”

Me: “No, you can’t get a refund.”

Patient: “You people are so greedy.”

Me: *speechless*

A Cyst-emic Problem In Healthcare
BAD BEHAVIOR, BIGOTRY, DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, MEDICAL OFFICE, MINNESOTA, USA | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 14, 2019
(I get fed up with my old doctor refusing to do anything other than tell me to “just lose some weight” and I go to a new clinic.)

Doctor: “I see you changed practices. Do you have any medical files with you or are they sending them over?”

Me: “They might send them over, but they’re going to be next to empty and claim I’m only overweight. My last doctor didn’t pay any attention to any of the symptoms I would tell him about. If it doesn’t happen in front of him he thinks it doesn’t happen ever, and all he would ever tell me is that I need to lose weight. I know I need to, but I’ve honestly been dieting and exercising and nothing has happened. I’ve had hormone problems my entire life, but he just kept telling me to eat better.”

Doctor: “That sounds… bad. Okay, tell me what’s going on with your hormones, and I’ll have a nurse come in and draw your blood for labs. You also seem to have a small lump on your neck.”

Me: “Yeah, I’m prone to cysts. I was going to get it looked at if it didn’t go away. Getting them drained isn’t pleasant, so I wait and see if they take care of themselves before I go in.”

Doctor: “I’ll take a look at it, anyway. You’re already here, might as well.”

(I leave the appointment satisfied that the doctor didn’t mention my weight at all except to ask if I’ve noticed any fluctuation with it. A week later, the doctor calls me back in.)

Doctor: “I ran your labs and, like I thought, you also high levels of testosterone. You have something called–“

Me: “Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome or PCOS?”

Doctor: “Exactly.”

Me: “I asked my old doctor about that years ago since I’m prone to getting cysts on my ovaries, but he never tested me for it.”

Doctor: “Well, I did, and you definitely have it. You also seem to have some thyroid problems, and I’d like for you to get a biopsy of the lump on your neck.”

Me: “Really?”

Doctor: “Yes, since I saw you last week, it’s gotten bigger, and I don’t think it’s a cyst.”

(It wasn’t. It was a cancerous tumor on my thyroid. When the surgeon opened me up to remove it, cancer had already spread to the surrounding lymph nodes, which then also had to be removed. After some radiation and chemo, I’m in remission, but if I had stayed with the old fat-shaming doctor, I’d be dead. Thankfully, that doctor retired and no longer “treats” patients.)

The Nutty Doctor
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, HOSPITAL, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, SWEDEN | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 11, 2019
(A couple of years ago, I started having really low blood sugar levels. It turned out that I needed surgery but I could not get it right away. To try to help me during the wait, my endocrinologist referred me to a dietician so see if there were some diet changes I could do to reduce the risk of going so low I passed out. I am very allergic to nuts. I go to the dietician and she looks at my list of food that I have eaten for the last three days and asks if I have any allergies, which I tell her about.)

Doctor: “You need to eat a snack in the afternoon that keeps the blood sugar levels up better. A handful of nuts is good.”

Me: “I am allergic to nuts.”

Doctor: “So, as I was saying. You need to eat at least 60g for it to be good for you.”

Me: “Still can’t eat nuts. Allergy…”

Doctor: “But nuts are good for you.”

Me: “They might be good for other people, but I am allergic to nuts. Is there really nothing to replace them with?”

Doctor: “Nuts are good for everybody. They help stabilize the blood sugar.”

Me: “One more time, I am allergic to nuts. I will die if I eat them. I can’t have nuts.”

Doctor: “I don’t know why you came here if you don’t allow me to help you.”

Me: “I want help. I just can’t eat nuts. Are there any other foods that I can have as a snack?”

Doctor: “I recommend at least 60 grams of nuts as a snack.”

Me: “Thanks for your time. I’ll see myself out.”

They’ll Be Tongue-Wagging About This For A While
DENTIST, PATIENTS, SILLY, USA | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 3, 2019
(It’s my first visit to the dentist in over ten years, and I tell the doctor that. What she doesn’t know is that I’m very nervous. The last time I was at a dentist, I was 15 and the doctor didn’t put in any anesthesia and drilled into my tooth. It was excruciating and I was crying a lot, and he didn’t seem to care. In fact, he seemed used to crying in his office. Anyway, I decide to bite the bullet and go for a checkup with a woman doctor, hoping she’ll be more sensitive. She finds three cavities, much to my dismay. She actually uses novocaine, and my gum is all properly numbed. However, I suffer from anxiety, so when she’s drilling my tooth, I can’t help but picture her slipping and drilling into my TONGUE, instead. This gives my tongue a mind of its own. It starts trying to escape, wiggling all about, trying to pull itself free and out! I can feel it moving, but the harder I try to stop it — since I don’t want to weird her out — the more it tries. Finally, she stops.)

Doctor: “You don’t have to wiggle your tongue around that much you know. Just try to keep it still.”

Me: “Sorry. I’ll try.”

(And I did, but I could still feel it moving. Finally, she was done and I zipped out of there to pay. I could tell she was relieved, too, and probably told her husband about my crazy tongue!)

A Sick Fantasy
AUSTRALIA, CHILDREN, COWORKERS, DAYCARE, NEW SOUTH WALES, REVOLTING | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 1, 2019
(I work in a childcare centre. Every ten minutes we have to check on the sleeping children in the nursery to make sure they are still alive and breathing. A coworker who is quiet, sweet, and very unsure of herself does the check and comes out of one of the cot rooms to say

Coworker: “[Child] has thrown up a little.”

Me: “Oh, okay. Do you want to clean it up, or do the washing up I was about to do and let me clean it up?”

Coworker: “Ah, I’d like to do the washing up if you don’t mind.”

Me: “Sure thing.”

(I go grab what I will need –gloves, washcloths, bag for clothes, etc. — and walk into the room. The child has projectile vomited in her sleep; it is EVERYWHERE and the child is still asleep. The sheets need to be thrown out, the cot has to be disinfected, and the child needs a bath — it is in her hair and in her socks. I walk up to that coworker later.)

Me: “Um, [Coworker]…”

Coworker: “Yes?”

Me: “You led me down a bit of a fantasy there by saying it was a little bit of vomit.”

(She and the other coworkers in the staff room lost it with laughter.)

Breathe Easy: This One Has A Happy Ending
COLORADO, LAZY/UNHELPFUL, PETS & ANIMALS, USA, VET | HEALTHY | SEPTEMBER 16, 2019
(My dog has developed a swollen face, is vomiting, and is not her usual, rambunctious self, but not lethargic. Although I’ve had dogs most of my life, I’ve never had a dog with such symptoms. It’s late in the day, just before they are due to close, but I call my veterinarian’s office for advice. She had a Bordetella vaccine just a few days ago so I think it might be related and mention that. After I explained the symptoms and asked about any relation to the vaccine

Receptionist: “I don’t think it’s related to the vaccine, but let me check.” *a few moments of silence* “No, the vet doesn’t think such an allergic reaction would happen at this point. It’s been three days and any adverse effects generally are seen with the first few hours, not longer than 48. Besides, the Bordetella vaccine doesn’t cause anything like what you’re describing. If you’re concerned, I can fit you in at the next available appointment. How about Tuesday at 10:00 am?”

(I’m calling on a Thursday.)

Me: “Um, did you say allergic reaction? Do you really think I should wait almost a week to have something like that checked? By then, I’m sure she would be already recovered or dead! Maybe I should take her to the emergency vet?”

Receptionist: “Well, the face swelling usually means the pet is on the way to recovery from whatever set it off, but yes, possibly an allergic reaction. If it makes you feel better, we can see her at 8:00 am tomorrow, but leave us a voicemail to let us know tonight or first thing in the morning if you won’t be coming. She should be fine.”

Me: “And if it gets worse, I’ll take her to the emergency vet; either way, I’ll let the office know if I don’t need that appointment.”

(My dog did appear to be improving, with the swelling decreasing. She stopped vomiting and started acting more energetic, but I didn’t call to cancel that appointment. Close to midnight, she started almost frantically pacing, madly shaking her head every couple of minutes — maybe something in her ear? — and couldn’t get comfortable to sleep. She generally sleeps on her own blanket at my feet on the bed but finally, about two am, she settled down wrapped around my head, laying on my pillow with her head on mine, her nose next to my ear. Soon, her breathing became soft and her usual light snoring started, and I dozed off myself. I was suddenly jolted awake a few minutes after four am and I quickly realized that, even though her nose was next to my ear, I couldn’t hear her breathing! I quickly sat up and turned to check on her. She was not only not breathing, but she was totally limp like a rag, no muscle tone at all, and she felt somewhat cold to the touch. I quickly moved her to an accessible position and started chest compressions, with no response, and I started bawling, calling her name, and berating myself for not taking her to the emergency vet. That woke my husband up and he, too, acknowledged that she appeared to be gone. He reached out to touch and caress her limp body and pretty much instinctively, I think, also squeezed her chest. And her head moved, very slightly. Imagination? Wishful thinking? No, it moved again and she started breathing again! It took several minutes but she recovered enough to pull herself to her blanket and she almost immediately fell asleep, gently snoring. She slept; we didn’t. I kept that appointment, but by then she was not showing any remaining symptoms at all, except for a bit of residual swelling. After questioning why we hadn’t given her any Benadryl –I wasn’t instructed to and didn’t know to do so — the vet explained that the head shaking was because the swelling makes the ears “not feel right,” that her ears were then perfectly clear and her temperature and color normal. I’m not sure the vet believed what had happened earlier, but he noted it all in her file. My pup was given injections of Benadryl and steroids to fight off any remaining toxins, but didn’t have any further issues. We still have no idea what caused such a dramatic allergic reaction, but it’s suspected to be a bug or spider bite from the back yard. Now, we keep Benadryl in the medicine cabinet and have instructions that if she begins to show any similar symptoms, no matter how slight, we are to give her half of a tablet and take her to the emergency vet immediately. And one veterinary receptionist is probably in a heap of trouble for his casual reaction to my very real concerns.)

LOL-ly
AUSTRALIA, AWESOME, GRANDPARENTS, HOSPITAL, INSPIRATIONAL, NEW SOUTH WALES, NON-DIALOGUE, NURSES, PATIENTS, SYDNEY | HEALTHY | SEPTEMBER 13, 2019
Late at night, my grandfather calls me to say my grandmother is having an “episode” and needs me. I hurry over, take one look at her, and call an ambulance; we escort her to the hospital.

My grandmother has become increasingly anxious about getting older and sicker and is visibly shaking and getting upset at the sudden onset of people around her taking blood, canulating, running ECGs, etc. The primary nurse has been professional, but far from warm or personable. My grandmother and I are nurses ourselves — well, Grandma was, years ago — so we totally understand that that happens sometimes.

My grandmother is given a cup of disgusting potassium liquid to drink, which she does quickly, but, in an effort to try and cheer herself up, she says, “Ugh! Wah wah wah! I want a lolly after that!”

The primary nurse disappears out of the room for a minute and returns… holding a rainbow lollipop, which she unwraps and presents to Grandma. She says, still in her serious voice, “That’s for being a brave girl,” and then heads out of the room again.

Grandma was so chuffed she talked about that little gesture for her remaining years.

A Sample Of The Local Community
MEDICAL OFFICE, NON-DIALOGUE, OKLAHOMA, REVOLTING, TULSA, USA | HEALTHY | SEPTEMBER 9, 2019
My doctor wrote up an order for some blood work. On my way in, I passed a mailbox mounted to the wall outside.

It can’t be confused with anything but a mailbox. It even has a little red flag to raise for outgoing mail.

The nurse who drew my blood told me that the mail carrier just walked inside and delivered the mail. The box was unused. Then, one day someone suspected that things were being put in the box. There was no key. It had to be forced open.

Yup.

People were using it for a specimen dropbox. Blood, urine, and stool samples in whatever jar someone felt like putting them in had been put in a black metal box in full Oklahoma summer heat — normally over 100F. Anyone besides me thinking, “How many people tried to tear off the sign and rip away the tape to insert some new sample?”

One Man’s Meat Is Another Man’s Poison
COWORKERS, EMPLOYEES, HEALTH & BODY, MARYLAND, RETAIL, STUPID, USA | HEALTHY | SEPTEMBER 6, 2019
(I work at a store with around 80 to 100 total employees. In the last few months, there have been a surprising number of people missing work due to food poisoning, about 20 times in the last three or four months. Emails have been going around, with some people complaining, some passive-aggressively implying people are making it up or blowing it out of proportion, and a few of us trying to actually make lists of restaurants in the area workers might go out to eat, or where they shopped, to see trends. We get a lot of people in the store, even if they have not had food poisoning, to describe their lunch habits. Still, even with the information, nothing really seems to add up. Some of the people usually get lunch at the restaurants nearby, but none of the restaurants seem more likely than others. Sometimes it was pizza, sometimes it was people bringing leftovers that had been fine the day before, sometimes they had eaten out, sometimes they had not. None of it seems to make a lot of sense. Today, I am in our break room for lunch when I see a coworker putting a few chicken wings on a napkin into one of the two microwaves. After a moment, something clicks in my head and I look back at the microwave with chicken inside.)

Me: “Hey, [Coworker], are you cooking chicken?”

Coworker: “Yeah! [Grocery Store] sells bags of frozen wings. They make a good lunch.”

Me: “Are they precooked?”

Coworker: “No, you have to cook them. Our microwave takes forever, though.”

Me: “Okay, so, you cook the frozen wings in the microwave?”

Coworker: “Just put them in the refrigerator in the morning and they defrost by lunchtime.”

Me: “Okay, gotcha.”

(Throughout the conversation, I don’t think my coworker picks up on my disbelief, so I just sit down and watch him as he plays on his phone, occasionally checking the chicken. At the end, the napkin the wings are on is clearly soggy with something, so he grabs another paper towel and wipes off the glass tray in the microwave, then wipes off the counter where there are a few drips. He then sets the napkin down on one of the tables and eats from it. We have paper plates on hand, but he just has the wings on a napkin. Once he finishes, he throws out the bones and gets another napkin to wipe off the damp spot left on the table under his napkin, throws it out, and goes back to the sales floor.)

Me: *on a walkie-talkie* “Hey, [Manager], could you meet me in the break room, please? I might have found the cause of the recent food issues.”

(The manager gave him a talking-to, but he genuinely did not seem to understand why what he was doing was a huge health risk. We heavily sanitized the break room with bleach, and here’s hoping the food poisoning issues are done with.)

One Man’s Meat Is Another Man’s Poison
COWORKERS, EMPLOYEES, HEALTH & BODY, MARYLAND, RETAIL, STUPID, USA | HEALTHY | SEPTEMBER 6, 2019
(I work at a store with around 80 to 100 total employees. In the last few months, there have been a surprising number of people missing work due to food poisoning, about 20 times in the last three or four months. Emails have been going around, with some people complaining, some passive-aggressively implying people are making it up or blowing it out of proportion, and a few of us trying to actually make lists of restaurants in the area workers might go out to eat, or where they shopped, to see trends. We get a lot of people in the store, even if they have not had food poisoning, to describe their lunch habits. Still, even with the information, nothing really seems to add up. Some of the people usually get lunch at the restaurants nearby, but none of the restaurants seem more likely than others. Sometimes it was pizza, sometimes it was people bringing leftovers that had been fine the day before, sometimes they had eaten out, sometimes they had not. None of it seems to make a lot of sense. Today, I am in our break room for lunch when I see a coworker putting a few chicken wings on a napkin into one of the two microwaves. After a moment, something clicks in my head and I look back at the microwave with chicken inside.)

Me: “Hey, [Coworker], are you cooking chicken?”

Coworker: “Yeah! [Grocery Store] sells bags of frozen wings. They make a good lunch.”

Me: “Are they precooked?”

Coworker: “No, you have to cook them. Our microwave takes forever, though.”

Me: “Okay, so, you cook the frozen wings in the microwave?”

Coworker: “Just put them in the refrigerator in the morning and they defrost by lunchtime.”

Me: “Okay, gotcha.”

(Throughout the conversation, I don’t think my coworker picks up on my disbelief, so I just sit down and watch him as he plays on his phone, occasionally checking the chicken. At the end, the napkin the wings are on is clearly soggy with something, so he grabs another paper towel and wipes off the glass tray in the microwave, then wipes off the counter where there are a few drips. He then sets the napkin down on one of the tables and eats from it. We have paper plates on hand, but he just has the wings on a napkin. Once he finishes, he throws out the bones and gets another napkin to wipe off the damp spot left on the table under his napkin, throws it out, and goes back to the sales floor.)

Me: *on a walkie-talkie* “Hey, [Manager], could you meet me in the break room, please? I might have found the cause of the recent food issues.”

(The manager gave him a talking-to, but he genuinely did not seem to understand why what he was doing was a huge health risk. We heavily sanitized the break room with bleach, and here’s hoping the food poisoning issues are done with.)

Getting Very Anal About The Probing Questions
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, HOSPITAL, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, NEBRASKA, NON-DIALOGUE, NURSES, USA | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 10, 2019
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

In 2013, at the age of 25, I begin to have tonic-clonic seizures. Prior to this, I have never experienced any kind of seizure. As the doctors are trying to understand what’s going on with me, they recommend an MRI to see if there are any physical indications in my brain as to what’s going on. Before the referral is made, the doctor asks if I have any metal in my body and I tell them no, and they note it in my chart. They tell me not to wear any jewelry when I go to have the MRI.

I go to the MRI clinic and throughout the paperwork process, I am asked several times if I have any metal in my body. I write “no” on all the paperwork and confirm this verbally with the intake person. I then speak with the nurse who takes me back to where the MRI is, and she asks me a couple of times if I have metal in me, as well. I tell her no and that I didn’t wear any jewelry. She writes that down and leaves me to change into clothing with nothing metal in it and to hang out in the room until the tech can come in and prep the machine.

After about five minutes, the tech comes in and begins prepping everything. “Before you lay down, I need to ask if you have any metal in or on your body.”

I am profoundly tired, in a lot of pain from the seizures, and scared I have a brain tumor, and so my coping mechanism kicks in. “Oh, no, just the implant the alien put in me when I was taken up on the mothership,” I say, as brightly as possible.

She looks at me quizzically and I repeat myself, smiling to let her know I’m kidding. She’s silent for a beat and then just sighs and tells me to get on the table. No chill at all.

I understand why they have to ask about metal due to the intense magnetism, but jeez, look at the charts, people! I don’t think I need to answer this question twelve times in the span of 48 hours.

Also, I don’t have a tumor, and my implant didn’t show up in the scan!

Piddle Me This
BAD BEHAVIOR, CONNECTICUT, PETS & ANIMALS, REVOLTING, USA, VET | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 9, 2019
(I work at a very busy veterinary hospital, and due to the volume of clients and the fact that we are near a highway, we have a “dogs on leashes, cats in carriers” rule to keep everyone safe. People often carry in small dogs, though, and today a woman sets her puppy down and lets it run around the lobby.)

Coworker: “Hi! I’m sorry, but could you please pick your puppy up? She’s very cute, but sometimes we get dogs in that don’t like other dogs.”

Woman: *scoffs* “I don’t let her run around. She had to pee, and it was either on me or on your floor.”

(Outside in the big grassy areas dividing the parking lot was, apparently, not an option. We get animals that piddle on the floor for a variety of reasons throughout the day, but I don’t think it’s ever been quite THIS intentional.)