During my freshman year in high school, my science teacher assigned us to interview people in the community about how they use science in their careers. Although I don’t remember most of the people I spoke with, I can tell you that I spent meaningful time with a local community pharmacist who changed my life.
What I saw was a man who loved his career and truly cared for his patients. In an instant, I knew that I wanted to become a pharmacist, and I never wavered from that goal throughout high school.
Knowing what you want to be when you grow up at age 14 is unusual, but it is very liberating. I simply had to work backwards to figure out how to achieve my goal of becoming a pharmacist.
After high school, I chose to attend Ohio Northern University (ONU) because it had a unique pharmacy program. Rather than attending college for 2 years and then applying to the pharmacy program, ONU students were admitted to the College of Pharmacy from day one.
Although it was expensive, being in pharmacy school from day one and avoiding the risk of rejection made it worthwhile for me.
In college, I spent a lot of time in the library. Although the classwork was difficult, I did well with one exception: organic chemistry.
I did fail organic chemistry—a notorious “weed out” course—but I successfully retook the class over the summer and graduated on time with the rest of my classmates. Failing a course is a difficult stumbling block, but I stood strong and persevered.
Today, I’m thankful for the wonderful pharmacy profession for so many reasons.
First, I’m thankful that community pharmacists are the health care professionals most accessible to the public. If my local pharmacist wasn’t accessible to me, then I likely would have taken a different career path.
Second, I’m proud of the work we pharmacists do, the diversity of our career options, and the relationships we share with our patients and fellow health care providers.
Pharmacy is a profession that makes a real difference in people’s lives. It certainly has made all the difference in mine.
Medicaid: Come Back When There’s More Than One Stomach Hole
Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Lazy/Unhelpful, USA | Healthy | February 3, 2019
(I have been extremely sick with stomach issues for quite a long time, but have had zero luck finding a doctor who will take on a Medicaid patient. One day, the pain after trying to eat something becomes so severe that I ask my grandma to take me to the ER. We go to the main hospital downtown and wait. My mom eventually gets off work and comes to take grandma’s place waiting with me. Finally, after over eight hours, I’m called back. We sit with the doctor and talk about my symptoms: non-stop nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, lack of appetite, exhaustion, unable to keep anything solid down, and so on, getting progressively worse over the course of more than a year. I’ve survived on an increasingly all-liquid diet all that time, so it’s clear something’s wrong.)
Doctor: “Well, you’re young, so I’m not too worried about it. I know you’re in school right now. Remember, your state of mind can really affect your body. Have you been depressed at all?”
(Yep, no tests or anything other than checking my blood sugar and doing a pregnancy and drug screening. I am discharged with basically the advice to try to relax and find a GP to discuss things with. Exactly one week later, I’m at home, and this time start vomiting blood pretty much nonstop rather than the usual intermittent basis. I call the nursing helpline for my Medicaid provider.)
Nurse: “You’re bleeding internally. You need to get to an ER immediately. Do you have someone who can drive you, or should I line up a ride for you?”
Me: “Well, I was literally just in the ER last week.”
Nurse: “Miss, you really need to go back. Is there someone who can take you?”
Me: “Yeah, I know my mom will take me if I tell her. Thank you.”
(Sure enough, my mom came to get me, and we headed for the one hospital in town not part of the network that ran the other one, as it was the local Catholic hospital. I was checked in and taken back within a few minutes, the doctor really listened, and they did tests, giving me meds to help with the nausea in the meantime. Turns out, my H. pylori numbers were practically astronomical, and the ultrasound revealed visible swelling where an ulcer was on the brink of eating through my stomach, in addition to the anemia and high white cell count. I effectively got there pretty much just in time. So, yeah, that’s my story of how most of the medical system wanted to effectively leave me to die just because I couldn’t make enough between my four jobs while going to school, and the one hospital that saved my life. Thanks to a scheduler in the local medical system, I have since found a GP and a GI specialist who are working on the underlying autoimmune issue we’ve since found, as well as getting the stomach issues under control that I was left with due to long-term lack of treatment.)
Ignoring & Inattentive, Medical Office, Patients, USA | Healthy | February 2, 2019
(The office I work in is in a larger building with other medical offices in it. I’m walking in to work one day and see an older lady standing in the intersection of two hallways looking lost. I’m not wearing scrubs or a uniform of any kind, but I must look like I know where I am going because she stops me with this
Old Lady: “Where do I go?”
Me: “Which office are you looking for?”
Old Lady: “I don’t know; where do I go?”
Me: “Are you seeing a doctor or having a procedure done?”
Old Lady: *motions to her throat* “They’re scanning this.”
Me: *thinking this narrows down the possibilities to two offices* “Do you know what kind of scan, or the name of the office you need to be at?”
Old Lady: “They just told me to come in door B.” *our building entrances are marked with letters* “Where do I go?”
Me: “Well, I work at [Radiology Clinic], so follow me and we’ll see if your appointment is with us.”
Old Lady: “But where do I go?”
(Her appointment was with us, but for the next day. We were able to squeeze her in. It happens way too often that patients come for scans but have no idea what it’s for or which doctor sent them. I would be able to understand getting lost if the offices in our building weren’t so clearly marked and there weren’t maps at every entrance.)
School Is Not Much Of An Improvement Over Hospital
Bizarre, Canada, Hospital, Patients | Healthy | February 1, 2019
(I’m a nurse in a smallish community hospital. A number of our patients are awaiting placement in long-term care and aren’t acutely ill. However, because they’re living in a germy hospital, they’re inclined to pick up bugs, and older folks with cognitive decline can get intensely confused with any sort of infection. One morning, one of our longtime patients, an older, bedridden lady, starts telling us all that she’s on a couch in a schoolhouse in a completely different small town and she needs to get back to the hospital. She laughs at us when we try to explain that she’s already in the hospital, and has a shouting match with her husband when he comes in and tries, as well. Later in the day, I’m doing some charting at the nursing station and answer a phone call
Me: “[Floor], [My Name] speaking.”
Patient: “Oh, hi. I’m just calling to let you know that I’m not there today; I’m at the school in [Town].”
Me: “[Patient], you are here today. I saw you this morning. I helped with your bath.”
Patient: “No, I’m not. I’m in [town], but I thought I should call in case [Husband] is looking for me.”
Me: “[Patient], your husband was in this morning. To the hospital. Where you are. In room [number]. Look. I’ll walk down the hall to your room.”
Patient: *laughs* “Okay, you do that; I won’t be there, though.”
(I walk down the hall, while talking to the patient on the cordless extension, and into her room. She sees me and continues talking over the phone to me.)
Patient: “Oh, a girl’s here now!”
Me: *hangs up* “[Patient], that’s me; you were just talking to me.”
Patient: *keeps talking into the phone* “See, I’m in [Town] and I need to get back to the hospital!”
(I gave up; she would not be reoriented. Later, I answered a call from our switchboard, who patched through 911. The patient had called them to ask to be returned to the hospital. I had to go back to her room to talk to the 911 dispatch on her phone and cancel the request. Then I disconnected her phone. This patient is recovered and quite lucid once more.)
England, Extra Stupid, Hospital, Lazy/Unhelpful, London, Non-Dialogue, UK | Healthy | February 1, 2019
I go to see my dad one day while my mum is away on a trip, to keep him company and to help him get some stuff done. One of the things he wants to do is add new waterproofing strips to the top of his workshop. We set up the ladder and I go up while he cuts some blocks. Rather foolishly, we didn’t do anything resembling good practice while setting up the ladder, a fact that comes back to bite me when I try to climb down it and it slips out from under me. I fall and luckily I land feet-first, but then I tip forward, and this time I land head-first on the patio.
I scream and my dad rushes out. A quick damage assessment has a lot of blood streaming from my head and a small puddle of it on the floor. I should note at this point that my dad and I are absolutely terrible for seeking medical attention. The last time my dad was in hospital he had managed to nearly slice his thumb off, and I, likewise, had not gone to hospital since I was eight. But given the amount of blood, we decide a trip to the hospital might be a good idea.
Since we are close to the hospital, we decide it would be faster and easier to just drive me in. With a towel soaking the blood up, we drive to the hospital and I walk in. It’s worth noting that despite the fact I’m walking, my t-shirt is covered in blood. The towel at my head it quite wet with it, too; anyone with some sense should probably figure I’m an urgent case. The staff who assign severity of cases, however, take a different view on things. First, I have to sit for five minutes, and then I meet with someone to fill out my details before being sent down a hallway to another waiting room. After around five minutes here, the blood loss and shock is getting to me and I literally pass out onto the floor.
According to my dad, I am suddenly swarmed with nurses and doctors, my blood pressure and vitals are taken, and I am shoved onto a bed with a compress applied to my head. At first, however, there is some confusion as to who I am. It turns out the admitting nurse decided my case wasn’t that serious, “because he was walking,” and had listed me as discharged.
I am given a head CT and kept in for six hours of observation, diagnosed with a mild concussion and a large cut to the side of my head, which fortunately closes without the need for stitches. My dad thinks it is hilarious later when a sign on our way out reads, “Would you recommend [Hospital] to a friend?” With the way they handled my case…
Extra Stupid, Food & Drink, home, Madison, Patients, Roommates, USA | Healthy | January 31, 2019
(My flatmate has been seeing a doctor for heart palpitations and has had to do a number of things to troubleshoot it, including wearing a portable heart monitor. One evening we are hanging out in the kitchen.)
Me: “Didn’t the cardiologist say you have to cut down on caffeine?”
Flatmate: “Yeah, so I stopped drinking coffee.”
Me: “How many cups of black tea have you had today already, though?”
She Has To Live Somewhere Else, But At Least She Will Be Living
Adelaide, Australia, Bad Behavior, Medical Office, Parents/Guardians, South Australia | Healthy Related | January 30, 2019
(I’m sitting in a doctor’s office waiting room with my five-year-old son for a routine checkup. In Australia, legally, you do not have to have your parents’ consent for doctor visits once you turn 16, at which point you can apply for your own medicare card, as well. A young girl around 16 or 17 marches through the door and walks up to the receptionist, followed by an older woman who turns out to be her mother. Her mother is WAILING at the top of her lungs, begging her daughter to stop, asking how she could do this to her, etc., in amongst just screaming randomly. Every kid in the practice bolts to their parents and the adults are left to just watch it all unfold.)
Teenage Girl: “Hello. I’m [Teenage Girl] and I’m seventeen and here for my own appointment.”
(Her mother increases her screeching, now sitting firmly in harpy territory.)
Mum: “I AM HER MOTHER AND I DO NOT CONSENT TO THIS.”
(The receptionist, to her credit, simply checks the young girl in, and she goes to sit down and wait. Her mother, still crying and shrieking, follows her and sits between her and another mum with a toddler who looks horrified.)
Mum: *through hiccups and tears* “Make sure you raise him right, but even if you raise him right, he’ll let some big corporation turn him against youuuu!”
(The other mum gets called in for her appointment and makes a hasty getaway, leaving us to listen to the crazy banshee beg and plead and scream at her daughter not to do this. Honestly, at this point, I think the only thing that could cause this reaction would be an abortion, but ohhh, I was wrong. A very perplexed doctor calls the young girl’s name out, and she bolts into the room. Her mother tries to follow but is stopped by the doctor.)
Doctor: “Do you want your mother with you?”
Teenage Girl: “No.”
(This apparently kicks the crazy into overdrive. The mother starts yelling angrily now.)
Mum: “Well, after you get that poison injected into you, you are not coming home and shedding it all over your sisters! You can find somewhere else to live!”
(The mum made an exit and we all realised she was talking about VACCINES. When her daughter emerged from the room she apologised to all of us, and it looked like she’d been crying. A few people offered her tissues and told her she was a brave kid for standing her ground. She had a quiet talk with the receptionist, who called someone, and when I was leaving the receptionist said she’d called the girl’s father for her. Wherever you are, brave girl, I hope you had somewhere to live, and good on you for making the smart choice!)
Cottingham, Doctor/Physician, England, Hospital, Nurses, Silly, UK | Healthy | January 29, 2019
(I have cancer and am at the hospital for a session of chemotherapy. Before I can have the treatment, I have to have blood taken and see the oncologist to make sure that I am healthy enough to take the chemo. A nurse weighs me whilst I am waiting for my consultation, and I am finally called in. The doctor asks how I’m doing, tells me my blood work was fine, and checks my weight with the nurse. She gives him the info, and he drops this gem.)
Oncologist: “Is that weight whilst fully clothed?”
Bad Behavior, California, Dentist, Orange County, USA | Healthy | January 28, 2019
(I’m on Medicaid since I’m working at an unfunded startup and don’t have any income — I got a sizable equity stake to compensate — nor does the company offer any insurance. I haven’t been to the dentist in a couple of years since my previous job’s dental coverage expired, and I’ve finally overcome my laziness to find a new one. There are only a few dentists in the area I have moved to in the interim who take Medicaid; I look them up on Yelp just to get a general idea of people’s experiences, and pick the one that had the best reviews.)
Dentist: “Your front top and bottom teeth are clicking against each other, when the top ones should be in front of the bottoms. This is causing your bottom teeth to be pushed out of alignment and is producing some gum recession.”
(This seems reasonable, and I have noticed that the gums around my front bottom teeth are thinning a bit.)
Dentist: “This is a serious problem that you should address immediately. You should set up an appointment as soon as possible for us to get you on [Name-Brand Clear-Aligner Orthodontic Treatment].”
(Denti-Cal, California’s Medicaid dental coverage, isn’t that comprehensive; I doubt they’ll cover a multi-thousand-dollar orthodontic treatment for an adult, and I don’t have that kind of out-of-pocket money at the moment. Also, while this dentist does apparently do both dentistry and orthodontics, from childhood I’m used to seeing a separate orthodontist.)
Me: “Thanks for letting me know, but I don’t want to do that procedure at this time.”
Dentist: “You need a deep cleaning since it’s been so long since your last cleaning.” *shows me x-rays* “If we just did a regular cleaning, we might not get all of this plaque that’s built up under the gum line. I don’t see any infection, but a long-term plaque buildup could lead to one.”
(This also seems reasonable, since it has been a couple of years, and the last time I went that long between cleanings I also needed a deep cleaning. At the time this takes place Denti-Cal doesn’t cover deep cleanings, so I have to cover the $400 charge out of pocket, but figure that’s my burden for waiting so long. Wanting a second opinion on the tooth-alignment issue, I schedule to see my childhood orthodontist when I’m home seeing my parents a few months later. I haven’t seen him in at least a decade, and there’s no chance of him getting any business from me since he’s on the opposite coast.)
Orthodontist: “Your teeth have shifted a fair amount since we last saw you. No, that clicking isn’t ideal, but the gum issues aren’t that bad and aren’t an immediate concern. You should probably address it in the next few years, but I’d recommend seeing someone who only does orthodontics, not a dentist who does orthodontics on the side.”
(Maybe there’s some professional snobbery involved with that last comment, but I’m more focused on the so-called “immediate issue” not being that much of an emergency, which I had suspected. At the next dentist appointment
Hygienist: “You know, your teeth are rather discolored. I think you should have us do a whitening procedure!”
Me: “My teeth aren’t that bad, and I’m not that concerned about my appearance. Also, in case you weren’t aware, I’m on Denti-Cal, which I’m pretty sure wouldn’t cover that, and which means I don’t really have hundreds or thousands of dollars to spare on a cosmetic procedure. So, no, I won’t be doing that.”
(Ten minutes later
Hygienist: “I really do think you’d look so much better if you got your teeth whitened! We’d do a really good job of it!”
Me: “I already said I both didn’t want to and couldn’t afford that.”
Hygienist: “Okay. Well, the dentist recommends you get a gum irrigation while you’re here, for the infection.”
Me: “What infection?! When I was here last time I was told I didn’t have any, and that I should do a deep cleaning to avoid any notable chance of one.”
Hygienist: “Well, no, you don’t have an infection, but the irrigation would further ensure you don’t get one.”
Me: “I was told last time that a deep cleaning was sufficient, and it seems that it was. I don’t like the insinuation that I have a problem when there’s not actually a problem. If I don’t have an infection, this sounds like an unnecessary procedure, and I’m not paying for it.”
(The hygienist finishes my regular cleaning.)
Hygienist: “Are you sure you don’t want your teeth whitened?”
Me: “No. I do not. Want. My teeth. Whitened. I said that twice already in no uncertain terms. Don’t ask me again.”
(The dentist comes in for the post-cleaning check.)
Dentist: “So, when do you want us to remove your wisdom teeth?”
Me: “Is there something wrong with them?! They came in several years ago, there’s enough room in my jaw for them, and I haven’t had any issues with them to date.”
Dentist: “No, but many of my patients get them removed just to avoid any complications.”
Me: “I’m currently 28. My dad didn’t have his removed until his 50s, and that was in response to some tangible problems he was having. I’m on Denti-Cal, and this probably isn’t covered. I’m not paying that kind of money right now to possibly avoid some problem that may never crop up, or may not crop up for decades. Please stop trying to sell me a bunch of unnecessary procedures, especially when you should know, from my insurance, that I probably don’t have much money to fritter away on things I don’t absolutely need.”
(I am rather annoyed by this whole ordeal, but I make an appointment for six months later since they at least seemed to do a capable job of cleaning my teeth. My usual inertia about switching dentists leads me to not find another one in the interim, so I go back. The cleaning is shorter than usual, possibly since I’ve started using a water flosser in addition to brushing.)
Dentist: “You know, that under-bite hasn’t gotten any better. You should really get [Clear Orthodontics Product].”
Me: “I’m still on Denti-Cal. It’s still not covered as far as I know, and I’m still not in a position to afford that. If and when I do decide to fix the problem, I will see a full-time orthodontist.”
Dentist: “All right, then. Next time you come in, you should do a deep cleaning, because I see some noticeable plaque buildup under your gums.”
Me: “I’ve been using a water flosser for several months now. You showed me the x-rays you took before the cleaning and there were maybe two tiny spots of plaque under all of my teeth put together. While Denti-Cal now covers deep cleanings, I’m not going to do that when there’s absolutely no reason to. I’m sick and tired of being pressured and cajoled into all manner of questionably necessary, or flat-out unnecessary, procedures. No other dentist I’ve ever been to has ever behaved like this. I’m not coming back.”
(I actually didn’t come back this time, and when they called me six months later to remind me of my next appointment, I told them again that I was never setting foot in their door
England, Hospital, London, Patients, Silly, UK | Healthy | January 25, 2019
(This happened a few years back. Two of my teeth had cracked and gone completely rotten and required removal. I was put under anesthetic and had the operation. Just after I woke up…)
Me: *pokes holes in mouth* “What… What? Where’re my teeth?”
Nurse: “You just had an operation to remove them.”
Me: *pokes mouth* “What? No… No, I didn’t. I was shopping… Yeah…”
(A bit of a pause. To check my jaw, she makes me bite a bit of cotton.)
Me: “I want my teeth back, please.”
Nurse: “Don’t worry; we have them in a little packet.”
Me: “No… No! I WANT YOU TO PUT MY TEETH BACK!”
Nurse: “I’m afraid that’s impossible. They’re all broken.”
Me: “PUT THEM BACK!” *sits up, throws the cotton at the wall, and then starts crying for no particular reason* “They were killed too soon!”
Nurse: “Don’t worry; they went out bravely.”
Me: “Yeah… The funeral will be so sad… They were so brave! Rest in shade… No… peas… peace!”
(I look at the nurse.)
Me: “Your eyes… Why are they blue? How does it work? They are very blue. Did anyone ever say your eyes are blue? Why are they blue?”
(I don’t remember any of this, but my dad was there and told me the whole thing once the anesthetic wore off. I felt so mortified!)
England, Hospital, London, Patients, Silly, UK | Healthy | January 25, 2019
(This happened a few years back. Two of my teeth had cracked and gone completely rotten and required removal. I was put under anesthetic and had the operation. Just after I woke up…)
Me: *pokes holes in mouth* “What… What? Where’re my teeth?”
Nurse: “You just had an operation to remove them.”
Me: *pokes mouth* “What? No… No, I didn’t. I was shopping… Yeah…”
(A bit of a pause. To check my jaw, she makes me bite a bit of cotton.)
Me: “I want my teeth back, please.”
Nurse: “Don’t worry; we have them in a little packet.”
Me: “No… No! I WANT YOU TO PUT MY TEETH BACK!”
Nurse: “I’m afraid that’s impossible. They’re all broken.”
Me: “PUT THEM BACK!” *sits up, throws the cotton at the wall, and then starts crying for no particular reason* “They were killed too soon!”
Nurse: “Don’t worry; they went out bravely.”
Me: “Yeah… The funeral will be so sad… They were so brave! Rest in shade… No… peas… peace!”
(I look at the nurse.)
Me: “Your eyes… Why are they blue? How does it work? They are very blue. Did anyone ever say your eyes are blue? Why are they blue?”
(I don’t remember any of this, but my dad was there and told me the whole thing once the anesthetic wore off. I felt so mortified!)
England, Hospital, London, Patients, Silly, UK | Healthy | January 25, 2019
(This happened a few years back. Two of my teeth had cracked and gone completely rotten and required removal. I was put under anesthetic and had the operation. Just after I woke up…)
Me: *pokes holes in mouth* “What… What? Where’re my teeth?”
Nurse: “You just had an operation to remove them.”
Me: *pokes mouth* “What? No… No, I didn’t. I was shopping… Yeah…”
(A bit of a pause. To check my jaw, she makes me bite a bit of cotton.)
Me: “I want my teeth back, please.”
Nurse: “Don’t worry; we have them in a little packet.”
Me: “No… No! I WANT YOU TO PUT MY TEETH BACK!”
Nurse: “I’m afraid that’s impossible. They’re all broken.”
Me: “PUT THEM BACK!” *sits up, throws the cotton at the wall, and then starts crying for no particular reason* “They were killed too soon!”
Nurse: “Don’t worry; they went out bravely.”
Me: “Yeah… The funeral will be so sad… They were so brave! Rest in shade… No… peas… peace!”
(I look at the nurse.)
Me: “Your eyes… Why are they blue? How does it work? They are very blue. Did anyone ever say your eyes are blue? Why are they blue?”
(I don’t remember any of this, but my dad was there and told me the whole thing once the anesthetic wore off. I felt so mortified!)
Extra Stupid, Jerk, Patients, Pharmacy, UK | Healthy Right | January 24, 2019
Customer: “I need something for allergies.”
(I show him the selection and he chooses.)
Me: “Are you on any other medication?”
Customer: “None of your business. Give me my tablets.”
Me: “I’m not allowed to sell them to you if there is a chance they could interact with something you are already taking.”
Customer: “Well, f*** you!” *storms off*
Colleague: “You would think he would be wiser after the last time.”
Me: “What happened?”
Colleague: “Our last pharmacist gave in and sold them. He took them while shopping and crashed his car the second he left the car park. He was taking codeine and had a bad reaction.”
(I wake up feeling sick. There are explosions of pain in my right side. I try to walk it off but after a few hours my boyfriend decides it’s time to stop playing hero, and he takes me to an emergency room. A receptionist is sorting patients according to their suspected diagnosis — broken bones and physical injuries are sent to the surgical ER, ob-gyn problems to the ob-gyn ER, toothache to the dentist ER, etc. We think it’s appendicitis, so I end up in general ER because we actually don’t know what’s wrong. I am four months pregnant and it’s already starting to show.)
Doctor: “We need to do a test to see if you are pregnant.”
Me: “I am pregnant.”
Doctor: “Riiight. So, we will do the test to see if you are pregnant…”
Me: “I am pregnant.”
Doctor: “Sure. So this test–“
Me: “Which part of ‘I am pregnant’ don’t you understand?”
Doctor: “This test will determine if you are pregnant.”
Me: “Okay, last time: I am pregnant. I’m 17 weeks along. In your right hand is my pregnancy card which confirms my pregnancy, includes all the tests, results, and every check-up I’ve had. I am four months pregnant!”
Doctor: *pause* “Well, why didn’t you say so?”
Me: “Arggggh!”
(She sent me to ob-gyn ER since “irritated pregnant women aren’t her problem.” At the ob-gyn ER, I was told my baby was fine, and since they also agreed it might be appendicitis, they sent me to the surgical ER where they determined it wasn’t appendicitis, but that the cause of the pain was my baby. I had a slightly irritated and swollen appendix, and the position of my son allowed him to kick it, which caused the explosions of pain. Two days of an icepack on my right side and liquid diet, and I was fine.)
Assisted Living, Germany, Golden Years, Patients, Rude & Risque | Healthy Right | January 22, 2019
(I work in a home for the elderly. I have to help an elderly woman to change seats because her left arm and leg are paralyzed. She can stand as long as she holds on to somebody. While I’m transferring her into her wheelchair, she holds onto my neck and by doing so she chokes me. Getting out of breath, I quickly set her into her wheelchair. After catching my breath I talk to her.)
Me: “Miss [Woman], you were choking me.”
Woman: “Oh, sorry. I’ll leave that to your girlfriend.”
(After that I had to catch my breath again from laughing too much.)
Crazy Requests, Extra Stupid, USA, Utah, Vet | Healthy Right | January 20, 2019
(I’m a receptionist for a busy veterinarian office. We have a strict policy of not giving medical advice over the phone for the protection of the patients, as I am not a medical professional; I am a receptionist with zero medical training. A frantic woman calls.)
Caller: “What’s going to happen to me? I used my dog’s toothbrush!”
Me: “I don’t believe anything should happen to you, but if you’re worried, you should call your own doctor for advice.”
Caller: “But don’t you know?! You know about dogs; you should know what will happen to me!”
(Both my other phone lines are now ringing.)
Me: “I cannot give medical advice over the phone. Also, we are a veterinarian. If you need medical advice for people, you need to speak to a human doctor.”
Caller: “But don’t you know? You know about dogs.”
Me: *repeating myself* “I really cannot give medical advice for pets or humans. If you are worried, call your own doctor. Now, I need to answer some other calls.”
Caller: “Okay. I just don’t understand why you can’t tell me what will happen to me.”
(I had to hang up on the woman because she wouldn’t stop whining about it.)
Colorado, Health & Body, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | January 19, 2019
(I am a larger woman, between a size 12-14. I have PCOS which means it can be very hard for me to lose weight. I also exercise four to six days a week (what can I say? I have an endorphin addiction) and eat fairly healthy. I’m just fat, and the weight doesn’t come off unless I absolutely starve myself. Unfortunately, a lot of people don’t believe this, some of which are in the medical industry. Fortunately, my doctor is more than happy with my health. At the beginning of my annual physical, I notice she has gotten a new nurse. The new nurse enters the room, sees me, and stops dead in her tracks. She looks at the file she has with my blood work, and she looks at me. Back to the blood work, back to me.)
Nurse: “Are you [My Name]?”
Me: “Yes.”
(She frowns and excuses herself. Unfortunately for her, she doesn’t close the door all the way, so I can hear her talking to my doctor in the hall. She is telling the doctor she thinks my blood work has gotten mixed up because there is no way I can have the stats I have! My doctor corrects her saying I have a largely healthy body, but all the organs in my lower abdomen hate me. And that was how her nurse learned that fat people sometimes aren’t fat for lack of trying, and that sometimes our stats are just fine, thank you.)
Doesn’t Need A Bank Or A Post Office But A Hospital
Bad Behavior, Bank, Bizarre, England, Health & Body, Patients, UK | Healthy Right | January 19, 2019
(I have been helping a patron set up a direct debit.)
Me: “And is there anything else I can help you with today?”
Patron: “Yes, can I have a packet of first-class stamps?”
Me: “Oh, I’m afraid we don’t offer stamps, but there is a post office just down the road. Just head right as you step outside.”
(Her head does this awkward jerk and she looks around in confusion.)
Patron: “This isn’t a post office?”
Me: “No, it’s a bank.”
(She looks furious, but before she can say anything else, she collapses on the floor. I’m the closest first-aider so I go into action. The door security guard calls 999. It looks like she’s having an epileptic fit, so I try my best to work with my training. I check her handbag for an identity card, but can’t find one. The guard walks over and tells me EMTs are coming just as our manager answers the phone. He looks so confused, but he addresses us.)
Manager: “What’s her name?”
Me: “What? How is that relevant?”
Manager: “I’ve got one of the paramedics on the phone. She’s asking.”
Me: *confused* “[Patron].”
Manager: “It’s [Patron]…” *to me* “She says to put a cushion under her head and check her handbag.”
Me: “Already done. I couldn’t find anything. I don’t know if she’s epileptic.”
(He tells the paramedic.)
Manager: “Was there anything drug-related in the bag? Pills? She’s asking for a colour.”
(I grab the bag and check. There is a small, clear bag in one of the side pockets. I don’t touch it but I can see small, round tablets.)
Me: “They’re pink.”
Manager: “Pin– Oh, they’re already here.”
(Literally as he says this, the EMTs burst through the door, with the woman my manager was speaking to hanging up.)
EMT: “Sorry, once we knew it was [Patron], we knew we had to hurry.”
(I surrender her to the EMTs. After a few minutes and an IV, she comes around. She is laughing and quite jolly with them as they take her away on a gurney.)
EMT: “Thanks for the help. I’ll just need to ask some questions.”
Me: “Sure, but how did you know it was her?”
EMT: “Sweetie, I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve been called out for her. Now we just take it as standard to call ahead when we’re told it’s a middle-aged woman.”
(I really have to commend them. I can’t imagine having to deal with the same woman time and time again as she slowly destroys herself.)
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