(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.)
New York, Pharmacy, USA, Vet | Healthy | November 17, 2017
(I take my sick dog to the vet and they don’t have the medicine he needs, so they send me to a store to pick it up from their pharmacy.)
Me: “Hi, I’m here to pick up medicine for my dog.”
Rep: “What’s the name?”
Me: “Well, my name is [My Name], but my dog is named Austin.”
Rep: “The medicine is for Austin? What’s Austin’s date of birth?”
Me: “I honestly don’t know what they would have for that; he is a rescue.”
Rep: “Do you have a phone number for Austin?”
Me: “My number is [number].”
Rep: “I don’t need your number. I need the patient’s number.”
Me: “He’s a golden retriever. He doesn’t have a number.”
Rep: “Look, I need information or I can’t give you anything. I can’t even find the prescription.”
Me: “It was called in by [Vet Hospital, with ‘Veterinary’ in the name].”
(The rep yells to the people behind him
Rep: “Did we get a call from a [Vet Hospital, but without the word ‘Veterinary’]?”
(I try to correct him, but he brushes me off and the other employees tell him no.)
Rep: “Look, try talking to someone at the drop off window. Right now, you can’t prove you even have a prescription.”
Me: “I don’t have a prescription, but my dog, Austin, does from his veterinarian.”
(The rep glares at me and points to the drop off window. I go over.)
Me: “Hi, I’m here to pick up medicine for my dog, Austin, that my veterinarian called in.”
Drop-Off Pharmacist: “I have that here. What’s your phone number so I can verify?” *I provide it* “Okay, our customer service rep at the main register will check you out.”
(I get back in the first line with the same rep.)
Rep: “What’s this? They found it? Well, I still need you to verify Austin’s information, or call him to get it.”
Me: “Again, Austin is a dog. See? The medicine is listed for veterinary; there’s even a picture of a dog on the package.”
Rep: “Okay, you need to talk to the pharmacist.”
(He puts the medicine on the back counter. I wait five minutes and the pharmacist comes out.)
Pharmacist: “What questions do you have?”
Me: “None, actually. The vet said just to give him a pill twice a day.”
Pharmacist: “Okay. [Rep], why did you call me up?”
Rep: “Is it even legal to give this to her? She doesn’t have the patient’s information.”
Pharmacist: “The patient is a dog. It’s fine.”
Rep: “A dog? Who needs medicine for a dog? Whatever, here.”
(He hands me the bag with the medication.)
Me: “I haven’t paid.”
Rep: “Yeah, you did; I rang you out.”
Me: “No.”
Pharmacist: “This wasn’t paid for. Let me personally ring you out over here. I’m going to write down my information and the name of the other employee who helped you. If you have any questions, comments, or complaints, please send them to this email address. Please send them. We need to have a certain number of complaints before we can let an employee go.”
Hospital, Mississippi, USA | Healthy | November 16, 2017
(This occurs when I am 19 years old, and in the hospital giving birth. I am a fairly tiny person, my baby is pretty huge, and I’m in my 23rd hour of labor, so you can see how I might be stressed out. The first time I let out a pained scream…)
Nurse: *disgustedly* “You know the screaming doesn’t actually help, right?”
(My mom and boyfriend gawk at her.)
Boyfriend: “Are you kidding? Did you seriously just say that?”
Nurse: *defensively* “Look, I’m just saying that it’s 3:00 am; people are trying to sleep. She’s being really loud.”
Mom: “GET THE F*** OUT OF HERE!”
(She huffed and walked out of the room without a word, leaving another nurse to scramble in to help. I saw her a few more times during my stay, and thankfully she kept her mouth shut.)
Alberta, Canada, Hospital | Healthy | November 16, 2017
(I received a call from my doctor after having some blood work done, telling me to get to the ER immediately for a blood transfusion, as my hemoglobin levels were critically low. A friend of mine takes me and stays with me for support. She likes to try and lighten the mood with a sarcastic sense of humor. This occurs when the nurse brings in the first bag of blood and hooks it up to my IV…)
Me: “Oh, wow… that’s a strange sensation!”
Nurse: “What? It’s not burning is it? Does it hurt?”
Me: “Not at all… It’s just really cold! I’ve never felt cold inside my body before.”
Friend: “Cold? Geez, Nurse! Can’t ya warm it up a little for her?”
Nurse: “…umm.”
Friend: “Just throw it in the microwave for a few minutes! My friend says it’s too cold here!”
Nurse: *mouth agape with a look of horror*
Me: “[Friend]… I don’t think she knows you’re joking.”
Friend: “Oh… Oh, my god! I’m totally joking! Just trying to lighten the mood!”
Nurse: “Oh, thank goodness! I mean, whatever you want to do on your own time, sure… but I’m not wasting precious O negative in this hospital for your little experiment here!”
(We had a good laugh after that. And after two bags of the red stuff my hemoglobin levels were back up to normal!)
Alberta, Canada, Hospital | Healthy | November 16, 2017
(I am eleven years old. My mother works in the kitchen of the local hospital and sometimes her duties involve delivering food trays to the patients. I remember her talking about the times on one floor where she would hear people moaning and crying, begging for morphine, as they lay painfully dying from whatever cancer was taking them from this world. One day, when I am out front of the hospital, I begin talking with a nurse who is waiting for the bus. We touch on a few topics until I remember my mother’s worlds about the terminally ill patients.)
Me: “My mother works in the kitchen and delivers food trays. She has told me about the dying people begging for morphine. Why don’t you give them what they need?”
Nurse: “Because they could become addicted, of course!”
Me: *I pondered her words for a few moments then replied* “Well, why don’t you give them the morphine they need, and then when they die, cut them off?”
Nurse: *giving me the stink-eye* “Little smart-a**!” *walks away in a huff*
Bigotry, Hospital, USA | Healthy | November 16, 2017
(This happened to one of my professors in the 1970s while they were working in a hospital’s blood bank dispensary. It wasn’t uncommon at that time for people to be somewhat fixated on the concept of receiving blood from their own race only. Some people falsely believed that “black blood” would “turn you black,” and all sorts of other ridiculous racist things. A patient who has recently received a blood transfusion somehow gets their number.)
Caller: “What color was the blood you gave me?”
Professor: *knowing what they’re asking, but refusing to play* “Red.”
Caller: “No. Where did it come from?”
Professor: “From someone’s veins, out of the goodness of their hearts.”
Caller: “No, I mean, what type of person did it come from?”
Professor: “A generous, kind, and loving one. Look, I don’t know their race, and it doesn’t matter anyway, and I wouldn’t tell you if I did know.”
Awesome Workers, England, Hospital, Inspirational, Kind Strangers, London, UK | Healthy | November 15, 2017
(I’ve gone to the hospital for an ultrasound scan. On my way to the hospital, I am caught in a flash rainstorm and have no umbrella, so I am completely soaked through by the time I arrive.)
Doctor: “Ms. [Surname]?
Me: “Hi.”
Doctor: “Oh, you poor thing; you’re soaked though.”
Me: “Yeah, it was raining really hard out there.”
(We enter the ultrasound room.)
Sonographer: “Hi. I’m [Sonographer], and I’ll be doing your scan today. If I could ask you to lie on the bench…”
Me: “Sure. Uh, I’m sorry; I’m going to make it a little damp, I think.”
Doctor: “Don’t apologise; we’re just sorry you’re so wet. Wait, hold on. We have spare hospital gowns somewhere.”
Sonographer: “In the waiting room. I’ll grab one. Hopefully your clothes can dry a little when we do the scan.”
(She goes out.)
Doctor: “Right. Let’s see if I can switch the air-conditioner off in here, or get it to run hot.”
Me: “Thanks!”
Doctor: “Not a problem.”
(The sonographer comes back with a hospital gown, so I get changed. After the scan is done…)
Doctor: “All done. Do you have to be anywhere? Otherwise, maybe we could see if there’s somewhere for you to sit so your clothes can dry.”
Me: “That’s very kind, but I have to go back home and carry on working.”
Doctor: “Hmm, I wonder if we can get you a hairdryer for a quick solution, then.”
Sonographer: “Let me think…” *pause* “I’m pretty sure we don’t have any we can use, but if you take the first left, there are some toilets with a pretty good hand-dryer, which you might be able to stand under.”
(I ended up having to rush back, but I was extremely grateful to the doctor and sonographer for trying to find a way to dry me off!)
Medical Office, Montana, USA | Healthy | November 15, 2017
(I work at a small clinic which has a break room right next to my desk, so I smell everyone’s reheated lunch. I don’t eat pork.)
Me: “Do you have to eat that at my desk? It smells awful!”
Coworker: “Oh, you’ll be fine. Your hot cop is coming in today.”
(I have a regular patient who is a cop.)
Me: “He’s not ‘my hot cop.’ He’s twice my age.”
Coworker: “Whatever.” *walks away, taking her rancid lunch with her*
Me: *yelling* “Oh, sick! NOW IT SMELLS LIKE BACON IN HERE! I FREAKING HATE PIGS!”
(Right then my “hot cop patient” walked around the corner, and if looks could kill… Needless to say, when he came in for follow-up, I just happened to come down with the flu that day.)
Health & Body, Restaurant, USA, Washington DC | Healthy | November 15, 2017
(I’m a manager for a popular casual restaurant. I receive a phone call from an upset customer.)
Caller: “Why don’t you offer allergy menus? My daughter almost died from eating calamari! Why would you serve her something that she is allergic to, and she’s pregnant!”
Me: “I do apologize for your daughter’s condition and we do offer a dozen different types of menus which do include an allergen menu, nutritional menus, large print menus, etc.”
Caller: “How am I supposed to know you have these menus?!”
Me: “Did you ask? Also, if your daughter knew she was allergic to calamari, why would she order it?”
Caller: “She didn’t know she was allergic to it! That’s why I was asking about the allergen menu!”
Me: “Okay, so, if she doesn’t know that she is allergic to calamari, how are we supposed to know?”
Caller: *realizes the paradox* “Well, she’s pregnant and I am really scared.”
(I’m a mom of two.)
Me: “I understand you are scared and when a person is pregnant their body goes through a lot of changes; consult with the doctor and I hope she will be okay.”
(I never got a call back I wonder if she still thinks we should automatically know if someone is allergic to something.)
(I work in a southwestern-themed restaurant, and many of our recipes include similar spices, just in different amounts. Onion is one of the most prominent ingredients in our recipes, and we sometimes get a request for ‘no onion’ in certain items. We can make some things, but it’d be pretty much just lettuce, cheese, and any number of fresh chopped vegetables that aren’t onion or mixed with anything that has onion in it. As such, I get this man in line.)
Customer: “I’d like a burrito.”
Me: “Okay, would you like that with or without guacamole today?”
Customer: “With.”
(The guacamole has onion in it.)
Me: “What kind of meat on your burrito?”
Customer: “Chicken.”
(The chicken has onion in the seasoning.)
Me: “Any rice or beans?”
Customer: “Sure, I’ll take [rice with onion in it], and [beans with onion in them].”
Me: “Any grilled vegetables?”
Customer: “Ooh, no, thank you. I’m allergic to onion.”
Me: “Sir… if you’re allergic to onions then I highly suggest you don’t eat this burrito. There is a load of onion in it already.”
Customer: “Oh, no, I’m only allergic to onion that I can see.”
(Eight years of culinary experience, and this is the first time I’ve heard that excuse. I made him his burrito – leaving off anything with visible onion – and he went on his way. No complaints yet.)
(I am a cashier at a restaurant. We are a small business and the owners are still working on the perfect way to run the business. A couple walks in and orders at the counter as usual. After finding a table, the woman returns to the counter.)
Customer: “Excuse me; do you have any larger chairs? My husband is too large to fit in these.”
(I know we don’t have any, but I go in the back to ask the owner for advice anyway. I return to the counter with no real solution.)
Me: *”No, ma’am. We don’t have any larger chairs; I’m sorry for your husband’s discomfort.”
Customer: “Okay, thanks anyway.”
(She goes back to her table, visibly upset. The husband returns to fill his drink, and I notice he is wearing an adult bib. They eat all their food with seemingly no complaints. They talk for a few minutes, and then the wife returns to the counter.)
Customer: “Excuse me, I’m having an allergic reaction. Is the manager around?”
Me: “Yes, ma’am. Let me go grab the owner for you.”
Owner: “What’s wrong, ma’am ?”
Customer: “My throat is itchy. I’m allergic to something in your food. Could you name the ingredients for me?”
Owner: *names every ingredient in the food she and her husband has eaten*
Customer: “I’m not allergic to any of that.”
Owner: “I’m sorry, ma’am, then you didn’t have an allergic reaction here.”
Customer: *becoming more angry by the second* “I said my throat is itchy and I’m having an allergic reaction! Don’t you care at all about your customers?”
Owner: “Would you like me to call an ambulance?”
Customer: “No! I’m fine! We were just leaving!”
(She pulled her husband out the door. He seemed indifferent to her “allergic reaction.” He even waved to us on the way out.)
(I work in a busy sandwich shop in a retail centre. It’s relatively quiet when a man and his two sons enter. They are regulars, but are usually rude. The father ignores us and plays with his phone while the kids order.)
Me: “And what salad would you like?”
Son #1 : *reels off salads* “…and onions. And [burger sauce].”
Me: *wraps his sandwich for him and hands it over before moving on*
(A few minutes after the father has paid, he storms back to the counter with Son #1 ’s sandwich.)
Father: “There are onions in here. He cannot eat onions. He is allergic!”
Me: *worried about the allergy* “I’m so sorry! Do you need me to call emergency services?!
Father: “What? No. He’s just allergic!”
Me: *I’m confused, but relieved more than anything* “Okay, I’m very sorry! I’ll make you a new one straight away.”
(I make the new sandwich as before, and ask the boy over to tell me his salad items again.)
Father: *storms up to counter* “He can have the sauce!”
Me: “The [burger sauce] contains onions so I’m not comf—”
Father: “Just give him the sauce!”
Me: *shrugs and puts the sauce on, adding extra when asked before wrapping the sandwich up*
Father: *snatches sandwich before I can bag it* “No onion! Was that so hard to understand?” *storms off again*
(They spent the rest of their meal glaring at me while I worked and left their mess all over the table, including the original sandwich they rejected. When I went to clean up, I find all of the onion had been removed from the sandwich and was nowhere to be seen.)
Finland, Medical Office, Pokemon | Healthy | November 15, 2017
(It is right around the time when Pokémon Go has come out. I take a fairly serious fall and injure my hip. When it doesn’t improve after a few days, I go to a doctor who specializes in sports injuries.)
Doctor: “How did you injure your hip?”
Me: “I fell off a stepladder.”
Doctor: “Oh, thank goodness! You’re the first patient I’ve had all week who didn’t injure themselves playing Pokémon Go.”
(I work at a pharmacy. A patient is complaining about a spray she had bought a couple of days ago.)
Patient: “It did absolutely not work! It is a nasal spray for sinusitis! Since it contains cortisone, it should work!”
Me: “How do you use it?”
(I ask, since the biggest problem with stuff like this is that you usually use maybe too little, too much, or just plain wrong. She looks at me, a little offended.)
Patient: *sounding annoyed* “Well, I use it as the description says! Two sprays once a day!”
(I think long and hard about how it couldn’t have made any difference for her.)
Patient: “Besides, it gets so messy, and it doesn’t dry quickly at all!”
Me: *can’t wrap my brains about what she meant* “Can you please explain?”
(She took out the spray with a annoyed sigh and held it up against her forehead. She had used the nasal spray on her forehead. I tried my absolute hardest not to laugh and explained as professionally as I could that the spray for sinusitis is to be sprayed in your nose, and not on your forehead.)
The Netherlands, Vet | Healthy | November 14, 2017
(I am 18 years old and have recently moved out on my own and finally bought my very first pet, a golden hamster. I bring the hamster to the vet because I notice quite a large lump near the hind quarters and I want to check it out.)
Me: “Yes, see, the lump is quite big.”
Vet: “You mean here?”
Me: “Yes, I hope it is not serious.”
Vet: *nearly dying of laughter* “Those are his male genitals. He seems to be quite healthy.”
Me: “Oh, my god! I am so sorry! Really? The sales person at the store said she was a girl!”
Vet: “Well, it’s a healthy boy.”
Me: “I feel really stupid, but thanks!”
(Don’t worry for my hamster. He lived quite a healthy happy life until nearly three-and-a-half years old, even though he went through life named “Rose.”)
Hospital, Mississippi, USA | Healthy | November 14, 2017
(I work in the satellite pharmacy at my hospital. A triage technician is always on hand to answer calls and messages from doctors, nurses, and other pharmacists. It’s a difficult job that requires deft technicians: some of the calls they get raise issues that are difficult to resolve, and others are just plain goofy. D5W is short for a stock solution of 5% dextrose sugar in water.)
Triage Tech: *picking up the phone* “Pharmacy, how can I help you?” *pause* “No, ma’am, I don’t believe those two are compatible with each other. ” *pause* “What? No, no, I don’t actually know offhand if the drug would precipitate out or react with the D5W in any way. I could look that up for you, but in this case I really don’t think it’s necessary. ” *pause* “You’re asking me if you can add insulin to D5W” *pause* “You want to infuse your patient with both sugar and insulin at once. Just… please… don’t.”
England, Hospital, London, Non-Dialogue, UK | Healthy | November 14, 2017
I used to work in an oncology unit specialising in gastrointestinal cancers – the sort of thing that, by the time it got to us, all we could do was arrange for palliative treatment to make the time the patient had left longer and more comfortable. I handled phone calls from the patients and families, all of whom were obviously upset and as a result not as thoughtful as they might have been.
Sometimes, they had a right to be abrasive, though. One man whose mother needed an urgent chemotherapy booking had been left hanging for weeks, and the registrar who was supposed to be handling the booking hadn’t done anything despite the fact that her prognosis was dwindling all the time. Eventually, I got fed up; I grabbed the patient file and the documentation that he hadn’t signed yet, interrupted the consultant at lunch, stood over him until he checked and signed the document, delivered everything to the ward personally, and, apologising to the still-furious son of the patient, told him his mother had an appointment the following day.
Less than a month later, I got word that the patient in that story had died. Two days after that, reception told me that said patient’s son was on his way to my office. I was sure he was coming to berate me to my face… but when he turned up, it was with a small silk rose and a small box of chocolates. He told me that he wanted to apologise for losing his temper, and tell me how grateful he was for how hard I’d worked to see that his mother got proper care.
I am never going to forget the man who managed to be so thoughtful of someone else even with such a recent bereavement. It’s the yardstick to which I hold my behaviour to this day.
Hospital, Religion, Texas, USA | Healthy | November 13, 2017
(I get a phone call from the hospital where I’ll be having outpatient surgery at in a few days. The nurse is asking me personal questions about my medical history, medicines, and gets to questions about religion. I’m atheist.)
Nurse: “Do you have any spiritual or religious objections that interfere with this surgery?”
Me: “No, ma’am.”
Nurse: “Do you go to church?”
Me: “No, ma’am.”
Nurse: *pauses* “Well, that’s okay. What religion are you?”
Me: “None.”
Nurse: “None?”
Me: “Yes, none. I’m atheist.”
Nurse: *takes long pause*
Me: “Are you there, ma’am?”
Nurse: “Do you need prayer?”
Me: “…what?”
Nurse: “Would you like prayer before the surgery?”
Me: “No…? I’m fine without prayer. But thanks.”
Nurse: “Have you ever been to church?”
Me: “Yes.”
Nurse: *long pause, then whispered* “Well, that’s okay.”
(We continued after that without any problems or weird pauses.)
Australia, Hospital, Non-Dialogue | Healthy | November 13, 2017
It’s a Friday night, and my dad has been really sick all week. It eventually gets to the point where he needs to go to the emergency room. Being a Friday night, the ER is relatively full.
Once he gets there, and speaks to the nurse, he is immediately given a wheelchair and taken straight through. The looks of disgust and just pure hatred he got from everyone in the waiting room was astonishing.
He had pneumonia, and had he arrived even an hour later, chances are he would have died.
Seriously, if someone is taken straight through at the emergency room, chances are their problems are probably worse than yours!
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