This Doctor’s Inability To Listen Is Nauseating
Doctor/Physician, Emergency Room, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Uruguay | Healthy | October 18, 2021
After I’ve complained about stomach pain for a few days, along with vomiting and nausea, my mom takes me to the ER.
Doctor: “Have you considered you might be pregnant?”
Mom: “Excuse you?”
The doctor turns away from my mom and takes my hands, moving her chair closer.
Doctor: “I know it may be hard to admit this in front of your mom, but you have to consider the chance that you might be having a child soon.”
She keeps on talking like that, giving me recommendations and numbers to call for help with teen pregnancy. My mom and I are looking at her in horror, until my mom can’t take it anymore and leaves the room.
Me: “Lady. I am, one, a fifteen-year-old virgin, and two, asexual, with a girlfriend. No. I am not pregnant. Can you let go of my hands and actually do some sort of exam now?”
Doctor: “Sweetie, things like this can happen by accident. Maybe your boyfriend and you were not—”
Before I got the chance to correct her, my mother came back into the room with a nurse, who told the doctor the head nurse was calling her. I ended up being seen by a different doctor, who sent me to do some actual exams. After a lot of different exams and many weeks of pain, whatever I had finally passed. We never knew what it was, but it was certainly not a child!
The Tantrum That Never Came And The Husband Who Stopped It
Awesome, Current Events, Jerk, North Carolina, Patients, Pharmacy, Spouses & Partners, USA | Healthy | October 15, 2021
It was 7:30, and I’d dropped into my local pharmacy in order to grab a prescription on the way home. I went back to the pharmacy counter and saw a woman hovering around the counter, wearing a mask, so I did as I always do and stayed a safe distance back to wait. She turned to me, immediately, and I realized I was in for something interesting, as she immediately asked me if I was there for a vaccine. I simply replied that I was there to pick up a prescription, and I could tell from the way she turned from me that she was trying to find someone to complain to. Her attitude radiated impatience and a little entitlement, so I was ready for fireworks.
After a moment, a man came around the corner and started talking to the woman; it turned out that he was her husband. He had been looking for something on the shelves and couldn’t find it but was going to check again since they were still waiting; she requested he stay at the counter because he was “better at talking” than she was. He told her to just call for him when the pharmacists got to them and headed back off to go find whatever it was he needed.
She then proceeded to start making “ugh” huffing noises, like she was scoffing at the wait already, but she did it so often there was hardly a second between her scoffing noises. It was like a mini-tantrum to herself. I don’t know how long they’d waited before I arrived, but I had only been there for maybe two minutes, and I’ve been to the pharmacy enough to know their wait times at the counter didn’t tend to be long if there wasn’t a line, so there was almost no way she’d been waiting more than a few minutes before I arrived, as the counter and back half were empty except for a car or two outside.
After another second, the head pharmacist/doctor in charge approached the counter to ask what they needed, and she called for her husband in a clipped tone before starting off anyway without waiting for him to get back to her.
Woman: “We’re here for our boosters.”
Doctor: *Not unkindly* “We don’t take walk-ins after 1:00 pm, and we don’t have appointments after 7:00.”
He could tell they didn’t have an appointment without having to ask, considering the hour, and his tone was mostly confused and a little concerned, like maybe they’d managed to book an appointment anyway and he was about to have to deal with a massive system issue. He was clearly anticipating fallout, either way. The woman opened her mouth, and I could hear the complaint starting in her throat through the half-second of tone she got out.
Then, her husband cut her off, emphatically and in a volume and tone that were almost teacher-voice-like.
Husband: “No. He is telling us what he can and cannot do.”
He then turned to the pharmacist and, in a pleasant tone, asked again about walk-in times so he knew when best to come back. The pharmacist walked him through using the app to make an appointment and clarified what vaccine they needed the booster for. The husband seemed almost pointedly pleasant when he talked, like he was making a point to his wife about how you talk to people when you can’t get your way. She didn’t say anything else except to ask what vaccine they had because, apparently, another of the same pharmacy carried the other kind, and when they left, they left quietly and with no further tantrums.
Read Between The Lines
Awesome, Ignoring & Inattentive, Inspirational, Texas, USA, Vet | Healthy | October 10, 2021
It is against the law to prescribe medications to a pet that has not been examined by the doctor. I’m one of the more senior technicians at the clinic and have just clocked in for the swing shift when one of the doctors comes up to me and hands me a bottle of liquid medicine and a dispenser.
Doctor: “I’m so glad you’re here. In the lobby is a Mrs. [Pet Owner]. Some jerk left a cardboard box with a litter of eight puppies on her driveway last night. She can barely afford her one dog, much less eight, so she was going to take them to the shelter today, but overnight they started having diarrhea, and we all know what the local shelter does to sick puppies. So, she has called ahead and gotten prices and she decided she can afford an exam and a puppy diarrhea panel for two of the puppies. We had her just bring in one puppy so that she would still have money for treating it. [New Hire] was helping me with this one, but I don’t think she is ready to do this kind of discharge talk. Can you do it?”
Me: “Sure, what am I telling her?”
Doctor: “Let her know the puppy has [parasite], and it is incredibly unlikely that the rest of the litter doesn’t. So for his size, he’ll need 1mL of this every day for three days. We’re sending her 30mLs; the extra is for spillage. You understand exactly what I mean by ‘spillage’?”
Me: “You really have to ask?”
I go up to the lobby and put the charges in the computer and call the owner up to the counter.
Me: “Good news! It isn’t parvo. It is [parasite] and that is easy to treat. The rest of the litter likely has it as well, so we don’t need to do the tests on them. You just have to give this liquid once a day for three days.”
I demonstrate how to use the dispenser to measure the dose.
Owner: “Oh, that is great. So, how much is it?”
I tell her the price and her face falls.
Owner: “Oh, dear. That is a very expensive medication.”
Me: “Not really. You see, you only need to give him 1mL a day, and we are sending home quite a bit more than that so if you accidentally spill some you still have plenty.”
Owner: “I don’t think I could possibly spill that much. Can you send home less? I need to save up to bring the others in to get exams and medication for them.”
Me: “Well, yes, we do need to do exams on the other puppies in order to send home any medication with their names on it, but we want to make absolutely sure that, no matter what, this little guy has plenty. Just in case you drop some, or it sticks to the side of the dispenser.”
Owner: “But I won’t drop any, and I really doubt that much is going to stick to the dispenser.”
Me: “We are sending you extra so that if you accidentally grab the wrong puppy and give one of his siblings a dose instead, you will still have plenty of medication.”
Owner: “Oh, no, he has very different markings from the rest; I wouldn’t make that mistake.”
Me: “I really don’t know how else I can explain this. Um…”
Owner: “Explain what?! That you think I’m a clumsy idiot that will waste more of the medication than I actually use?!”
Another client who is waiting in the lobby comes up to the counter.
Man: “Excuse me, miss. I couldn’t help but overhear. Am I allowed to say what I think you are not allowed to say?”
Me: “Sir, as long as you aren’t threatening or being vulgar, I am not legally required to stop you from saying anything.”
Man: “Excellent!” *Turns to the puppies’ owner* “You said you have other dogs, right? They are sending you enough medicine for all of them, but legally, they can’t say that is what they are doing. So, pay for the medication, take it home, and ‘spill’ it down the other dogs’ throats. I’m assuming they are all the same size and therefore should get the same dose.” *Turns back to me* “That’s right, right?”
Me: “Nobody who works here would ever tell you to administer medication to an animal it was not prescribed to. That would be illegal. But yes, if we were to send home medication for the other puppies, they would be getting the same dose.”
Owner: “Oh, wow. Oh, gosh, thank you so much. I’m going to write a review telling everyone how awesome you are to do this for me.”
Man: “NO, YOU ARE NOT! They are bending the law pretty far for you and your dogs. You can talk about how nice they are, how caring the doctor was, and how they found a treatment plan within your budget, but you will most certainly not say anything about them sending home medication for an animal they didn’t examine.”
Owner: “Oh, right. That makes sense. Thank you all so much!” *Pays and leaves*
Me: “Thanks for helping with that.”
Man: “Not a problem. I didn’t want the poor dogs to suffer from foolish human disease.”
The puppies all recovered and we helped the owner find good homes for all of them. We still see the six that stayed in the area regularly for vaccines and checkups.
No Pain, No Gain
Dentist, France, Patients, Stupid | Healthy | October 1, 2021
I’m a dentist. Sometimes we can’t fix teeth without extractions. When that happens and there’s no other viable option, we make prosthetics for the patients — basically dentures. It’s never a perfect option, but in the vast majority of cases, the patients are happy with them after a necessary touch-up and around two weeks of wear to get accustomed to their new prosthetics. You absolutely NEED to bear the discomfort for those two weeks if you ever want to get used to them.
I have this conversation on a weekly basis.
A patient calls in two weeks after being given the dentures.
Patient: “Those dentures don’t fit me. I can’t eat/talk/do backflips with them, and they hurt.”
Me: “Pain is normal during the first few weeks; I’ll fix that for you. How long did you wear them for?”
Patient: “I could only handle three hours!”
Me: “Yeah, I might see why they don’t seem to work…”
Hospitals Are The Coolest Place To Hang Out!
Alberta, Canada, Current Events, Hospital, Impossible Demands | Healthy | September 29, 2021
I work at one of the main hospitals in the city, and I rotate between different entrances. Hospitals have been very strict with who they allow into the hospital since the health crisis, with only patients and select visitors being permitted. There are many people who try to come into the hospital despite not being a patient or knowing a patient who has been admitted, and a lot of my job involves calling the main switchboard and various units to ensure random people aren’t just wandering around and that people actually have someone they are going to visit.
One day, a visitor comes in.
Visitor: “I’m here to visit my grandmother.”
Me: “Can I have the spelling of her name, please?”
Visitor: “[Male First Name], uhh… [Last Name]?”
I call the main switchboard to see if they can locate the patient, and sure enough, they can’t find anyone under that name.
I report back to the visitor.
Visitor: “Oh, I have this friend here, [Male Name], and he’s in a wheelchair. You know him?”
This hospital has almost 1,000 beds, and I’m not exactly on a first-name basis with patients!
I asked for the spelling of their name, and… they couldn’t tell me. I informed the visitor that they needed the correct spelling of any patient’s first and last name in order to visit. The patient wandered out the door. This happens at least once a shift.
Be Proactive; Doctors Can’t Fix Dead
Awesome, Doctor/Physician, France, Grandparents, Home | Healthy | September 27, 2021
My grandmother told me this story that happened to her some years ago. She was sick for a few days. But she is the type of person that says, “It’s nothing. I’m not going to bother the doctor for so little. It will go away,” and waits until she can barely walk.
One day, she was laying in bed, trying to rest, when she realized that she should call the doctor. She called the office and got to speak to the doctor. This doctor saw my grandmother pregnant with my mother, my mother pregnant with me, and me reaching my twenties, so he knows our family pretty well.
And at that point, she collapsed. She fell to the ground and woke up some minutes later. She was confused and did not remember calling the doctor at all, so she went back to bed.
Fifteen minutes later, she heard some loud banging on the door. She ran to the door and was really surprised to see the doctor.
Grandmother: “What are you doing here?”
Doctor: “You called me! And then you stopped talking and I heard you falling on the ground. You were not answering, so I jumped in my car!”
My grandmother was obviously really grateful, and the doctor did some checks and prescribed some medicine. I think he lectured her a little bit on her stubbornness, too.
Have A Heart, Not A Fake Heart Attack
England, Liars/Scammers, Medical Office, Patients, UK | Healthy | September 25, 2021
We have a non-emergency centre in our city; anyone can walk up and be seen, but after a certain time, it isn’t fully staffed. Then, you have to call them first and they will confirm whether they can see you there or refer you to the nearby emergency centre at the hospital. Or, they just tell you to take it up with your general doctor.
There are no costs or waiting times, and it’s clear on the website and signs are plastered over the centre, yet people still don’t get it.
I call ahead and ask to come in. As I walk the path, a couple is having a conversation in hushed tones.
Woman: “You are not listening; they won’t see you.”
Man: “No, but when we get there, I will pretend to have chest pains. They can’t refuse to see me then!”
Woman: “Oh, good idea.”
I follow them to the door. The man immediately grabs his chest and staggers to a nearby bench, draping himself over it like a Renaissance painting. The woman presses the intercom.
Intercom: “Did you ring ahead?”
Woman: “No, but my husband is having chest pains.”
Intercom: “Is it bad? Is he having any problems breathing, confusion?”
Woman: “Well, yes, a little.”
Intercom: “Okay. I will call an ambulance. Stay there and someone will come out in a second.”
Woman: “No, no no, it’s not really that bad.”
Intercom: “No, is he having issues breathing?”
Woman: “Err, no. But his foot hurts. He dropped something on it earlier.”
Intercom: *Sighs* “If it is only his foot, he needs to call the number and they will assess him.”
Woman: “But his foot really does hurt.”
Intercom: “And if you ring the number, someone will talk it through with him.”
The woman says something quietly.
Intercom: “Call the number like everyone else has. There is a queue of people that need our help and you are stopping us from helping them.”
Woman: “He needs help! We are not leaving this spot.”
Intercom: “Call the number. They will diagnose you; it isn’t urgent so you can do that. If you refuse to move, you will be arrested.”
The woman went back to her husband, who miraculously stopped clutching his chest, and they walked off. He didn’t even have a limp.
To Be Fair, They’re Very Different Kinds Of Needles
Funny, Hypocrisy, Medical Office, Patients, USA | Healthy | September 23, 2021
In the early 2000s, while waiting for my doctor’s appointment, I witnessed this incident.
Another patient, a woman in her twenties, came out from the back exam area with a nurse. The patient was wearing a common and trendy outfit of low-rise sweatpants and a crop tank top.
The nurse handed the patient her paperwork.
Nurse: “You need to make a follow-up appointment for [number] weeks. The receptionist can help you if you want to do it now.”
As she grabbed her paperwork, the patient responded:
Patient: “Ugh! Do I have to? I hate needles.”
The patient then walked quickly out of the office. As she did so, I could see that among the small collection of tattoos she had was a trendy one on her tailbone. The nurse looked bemused but unsurprised and returned to the back. I managed to mind my manners and not laugh or giggle.
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It Takes A Village… Minus That Nurse
Hawaii, Honolulu, Jerk, Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, Nurses, USA | Healthy | September 21, 2021
My husband and I had been trying for another baby for a few months when I finally got a positive pregnancy test. I called the OBGYN office and booked my first appointment, expecting it to be like the first appointments for my other two children where we previously lived: a physical exam, listening to the heartbeat on an in-office Doppler machine, addressing any concerns that might be revealed in the exam, and some counseling about healthy habits during pregnancy.
However, the appointment turned out to be just confirming the pregnancy, using the exact same sort of urine test you can buy in dollar stores (which I’d done at home). I wasn’t able to get an appointment to be seen for an exam until several weeks later, too late for any early genetic testing; it’s lucky I wasn’t planning to have those, given my family and personal history.
And for extra fun, when I gave the nurse my urine sample (in a paper towel-wrapped cup), she took it, stared at my two- and four-year-old, sighed, and asked with disdain, “If this comes back positive, are you keeping it?”
The office didn’t offer abortion services. Why would I have come if I were seeking that? If they had to ask about my plans for pregnancy, why do it so bluntly, and with the impression that three is too many kids for someone to have? It set the tone for all the rest of the pregnancy visits, wherein I was treated like a nuisance and a hassle. I was very happy to move in the eighth month of pregnancy and have my third child in a more welcoming environment — one which includes a few childfree-by-choice aunts and uncles who said I could have an extra child or two in their place.
Her Attitude Is A Real Shot In The Arm
Current Events, Ignoring & Inattentive, Medical Office, Nurses, USA | Healthy | September 19, 2021
I’m visiting my doctor for a checkup about a week after my booster shot. The nurse is taking my vitals.
Nurse: “So, how was your shot?”
Me: “A little sore when I lift my arm, but otherwise, nothing, really.”
Nurse: “Most people get knocked out for a day or two.”
Me: “Yeah, I thought I would, but I feel fine.”
Nurse: “You know, when you get sick after a vaccine, that means your body is building immunity. So, if you didn’t feel anything, you probably didn’t get anything.”
Me: “But—”
Nurse: “There are stories about people injecting with water and all kinds of stuff.”
Me: “I don’t—”
Nurse: “You should look into one of those tests to see if it worked.”
Me: “No, I—”
Nurse: “You should! If I got a shot and it didn’t do anything for me, I’d sue!” *Pauses* “Your pulse is high. Are you okay?”
Me: “You gave me my shot.”
The nurse sits in silence for a moment, embarrassed.
Nurse: “Well… not here, obviously… I mean, people here don’t… I was just… uh… The doctor will be in to see you shortly.”
She left without another word. The doctor came in and assured me that their shots are the real deal and that just because I didn’t feel anything it doesn’t mean I’m not covered.
Open Mouth, Insert Anesthetized Foot
Doctor/Physician, Funny, Hypocrisy, Medical Office, Oklahoma, Tulsa, USA | Healthy | September 17, 2021
I have suffered two bad ingrown toenails, one on each big toe. The first was handled by my general practitioner with general anesthesia. I didn’t know better at the time, but this was serious overkill. I got the whole hospital gown and recovery room treatment. When my other toe needed the same treatment, I went to a podiatrist. I told him the story of my first toe.
Podiatrist: “Well, that’s a GP for you; they don’t know how to anesthetize a toe. Well, let’s get you all fixed up.”
At that point, he zaps my toe and we wait a bit. He starts to touch my toe with the scalpel.
Me: “Um, I can feel that.”
Podiatrist: “What? That should be completely numb by now.”
Wonderful. It turns out that I’m one of the very few people whose nerve for the tip of their toe grows on the opposite side of the toe. He got me properly numbed, but I still laugh at the irony of him fussing that my previous doctor couldn’t properly numb my toe.
Cast A Spell Of Screaming
Bad Behavior, Children, Doctor/Physician, Medical Office, School, USA, Washington | Healthy | September 15, 2021
When my brother is in elementary school, he falls off the monkey bars and sprains his wrist pretty badly. My brother has a ridiculous pain tolerance and is screaming his head off, so there is worry that it is a break.
At the time, we only have one car, which is with my dad, who isn’t currently available. My mom calls a family friend to get my brother so they can get to the doctor and off they go. She doesn’t call my dad because she is in a rush and is planning on doing it when they get to the doctor, so my dad follows his regular routine and starts to head home. He happens to run into another family friend who knows what’s happened.
Family Friend: “Hey, have you talked to [Mom] yet?”
Dad: “Uh, I don’t think so. Why?”
Family Friend: “Oh, well, [Brother] fell and may have broken his wrist. I think she took him to [Urgent Care Office].”
Of course, my dad heads straight there and asks to be let in, but the front desk nurse won’t let him back. I’m not sure exactly why because most of the staff there know our family, so the only thing I can think of is that she is new and doesn’t know him. My mom hears the commotion and comes out and confirms he’s okay, and then they go back in to find that my brother’s wrist is not broken but sprained. The doctor splints the wrist and tells my brother to stay off the monkey bars for a few days and sends them home.
The next day, my brother comes home from school and my mom asks him about his wrist.
Brother: “It really hurts, Mom.”
He shows her his wrist and now there’s some very distinctive bruising.
Mom: “Come on. Let’s go back to the doctor.”
This time, my dad is home so they all go off to the clinic. They walk in and the nurse at the counter frowns as they come in.
Nurse: “Weren’t you just here?”
Mom: *Sigh* “Yes, but this time, it’s actually broken.”
While there isn’t any hesitation in getting things taken care of, there are other bills we are dealing with and an extra medical visit is not something we need right now.
Nurse: “Oh. Well, let me just put this in as a follow-up, okay?”
Mom: “Oh, you’re my new best friend!”
They go back and the doctor confirms that it is indeed broken this time.
Doctor: “I thought I told you to stay off the monkey bars?”
Brother: “I did! I was hanging on the single bars with my good arm and it was wet so I fell.”
Every adult in the room face-palms. I’ll give my brother one thing: he certainly is very good at not-quite malicious compliance.
Doctor: “Let’s get a cast on this, and then you need to stay away from all types of bars or hanging equipment for a while, okay?”
They splinted things and my brother got his cast. To this day, my mom thinks that the reason my brother was screaming so bad initially was that he really wanted a cast, and while he wouldn’t necessarily have gone out and purposely said, “Hey, let’s see what happens when I fall again!”, he still wanted that cast.
These Responses Aren’t Coming Out Of Left Field
Doctor/Physician, Emergency Room, Nurses, USA | Healthy | September 13, 2021
In high school, I break my left arm. I’m taken to the emergency room.
If You Can’t Control It, Own It
Bizarre, Funny, Health & Body, Office, UK | Healthy | September 11, 2021
I am sensitive. By this, I mean that my skin is sensitive, my digestive system is sensitive, my sense of smell is sensitive, and my eyes are sensitive. A strong smell, bright lights, a change of weather, high winds, changing temperatures, pollen — all cause a reaction of some sort. It’s like hay fever, seasonal eczema, and something else all wrapped in one and antihistamines do nada.
I’ve only been working in this office for about a month and I’ve been fairly reaction-free. Then, a change in weather plus the construction site burning something acrid results in my eyes swelling and getting weepy and my skin peeling to the point of bleeding. I’m somewhat irritable due to being so uncomfortable.
Trainer: “You don’t have to tell me — it’s entirely your own business and it clearly doesn’t interfere with your working — but I’m nosy. What do you have that causes these reactions?”
Me: “LBS.”
Trainer: “What’s that?”
Me: “Little B**** Syndrome. My body just reacts to everything that isn’t basic as f***. Doctors don’t know why, so I’ve decided that my body is just an oversensitive little b****.”
This Doctor Knows All About “Cold”
Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, UK | Healthy | September 9, 2021
I’m twenty-three and I’m working in the UK for a year. English is not my first language, but I know enough to work in an English-speaking company so it’s not too bad.
One day, while I’m at work, I start feeling bad — fever, sore throat, coughing, etc. Since I am only here for a year, I did not think about registering with a general doctor, so I was not sure where to go to get seen by a doctor. My manager told me about “walk-in centers” where you can go without appointments.
I check out of work, take a taxi, and manage to get to one of these centers. I wait for some time and then get to see a doctor.
I’m kind of shy and new situations can stress me a lot. I’ve never been to a doctor on my own at this point since my parents always had to drive me to the doctor’s office, and I had the same doctor from the time I was born.
I enter the doctor’s room. He barely looks at me and does not invite me to take a seat or anything.
Doctor: “What’s your problem?”
Me: “I feel like I have a fever and I feel pain in my throat.”
Doctor: “Okay, well, that’s a cold. What do you want me to do?”
I’m kind of shocked. In similar cases, my doctor always did the basic tests, like looking at my throat, measuring my temperature, making me breathe, etc. I try to insist.
Me: “Well, I just wanted to be sure it was just a cold.”
Doctor: “What could it be other than a cold?”
I’m thinking, “You’re the doctor; you’re the one supposed to know.” I try proposing an illness without knowing the English name — “angine” in French, which in English is called “Tonsillitis”.
Me: “Well, I really don’t know… It could be an angina? I’m sorry, I’m not sure of the English name.”
Doctor: “Nope, angina is a cardiac illness.”
Me: “Well, like I said, I’m not sure of what it’s called in English.”
He does not try to understand or do any tests. He just asks for my age and then says, in a very condescending way:
Doctor: “Well, you’re twenty-three years old and you never dealt with a cold before? Just get some paracetamol for three weeks. Goodbye.”
I went out of the center, and I almost cried out of stress and anger. I went home and called my parents, who helped me think and told me to go to a pharmacy to get a syrup for my throat. The syrup helped a lot — the weekend, too — and I recovered quickly.
I know this was a free consultation, I know doctors don’t have a lot of time allowed per patient, and I know the NHS has budget issues. But I was sick, living on my own in a foreign country, and just wanted to get something for the pain and to be reassured that it was just a cold.
Time To Block That Particular Vet
Money, Pets & Animals, South Carolina, USA, Vet | Healthy | September 7, 2021
This takes place during the beginnings of the 2020 health crisis, over a span of three months, from January to March. I have had my cat Linus since he was four months old and got him from a local rescue, meaning he was neutered when I got him. In 2020, he was five years old. I take him to his annual checkups and he has never had any issues.
One day, Linus starts acting funny. He’s making a cry I’ve never heard and looks like he’s searching for something. He keeps pawing at my clothes and a rag that I use for dusting. I watch as he squats in an attempt to pee on the rag. I quickly scoop him up and put him in his litter box. He tries to pee, but hardly anything comes out. I’m worried that he has a UTI, which in neutered males can cause a blockage and, as I found out later, they only have about seventy-two hours before they die if they are blocked.
I call my vet and explain what is happening to set up an appointment. I talk to a woman on the phone who I assume is a vet.
Vet: “If he is blocked, then there is nothing we can do except refer him to the ER where they can treat him. You should just go to the ER instead of wasting your money to come to us first and then to the ER.”
I do this, not knowing this will be the first act of many stressful moments over this three-month time period.
At the ER, they take a look at him and say that he is not blocked but simply has a UTI. They give me three or four types of medication (ranging from pill to liquid) and send me on my way. This first visit is about $200 to $300. After following the instructions carefully and fighting my bratty baby, he seems to get better. I keep an eye on his litter box, and while his urine clumps aren’t normal-sized, he seems to be peeing again.
One morning, I notice Linus is having trouble peeing again. I leave for work, but since I’m concerned, I leave early to take him to the ER again. They check him again, and again they say that he’s not blocked, just a UTI. The vet also tells me he possibly has FLUTD (Feline Lower Urinary Tract Disease), which is more psychological than bacterial, where stress causes the cat to have UTI symptoms. Again, I am given the same medications, and this time I pay around $500 for this visit.
I follow the instructions for the medicine and Linus seems to get better, but then, a couple of weeks later, he is crying again either late at night. He is searching again for something soft to pee on. I take him to the ER again. They decide to hold him for a few hours for observation and testing. I’m exhausted and concerned. Unlike the previous two times, I can’t go into the ER waiting room because of the health crisis and they only do curbside. I head home until they call me to pick him up. Turns out he was a bit dehydrated and they gave him fluids. But they also say he’s not blocked. I believe I pay something like $700 for this visit.
When I get home, Linus is acting really lethargic. He’s hardly moving and looks like he’s in pain. It looks like he’s straining and making grunting noises. I call the ER and express my concerns that he is blocked. The front desk hands the phone to the vet.
ER Vet: “It sounds like he’s blocked.”
Me: “How much will it cost to unblock him?”
She tells me an amount that’s AT LEAST $2,500. I begin crying because I’m saving for a house and that would be a good chunk of my savings. When I tell her I can’t afford that, I will never forget what she says to me.
ER Vet: “Well, if you have bad credit, you can always sign up for [Medical Credit Card #1 ], or the vet specific [Medical Credit Card #2].”
I am beyond pissed.
Me: “My credit isn’t the issue. Could we try [medication]? Isn’t that supposed to relax the urethra?”
ER Vet: “Sure, we can try that, but it won’t help.”
I go back to the ER to get the medication and the vet tech there tells me to try an animal hospital (basically a local clinic) in a nearby town that does surgeries. This animal hospital happens to also be my mom’s vet. I thank the vet tech and make an appointment for the next morning at the animal hospital.
I take my cat to the animal hospital, where they tell me to wait in my car because of the health crisis. When I’m called in, they take me to the room and I explain everything, including the visits with the ER. The vet later comes in and does a physical exam.
Animal Hospital Vet: “Linus is definitely blocked. I’ll be able to unblock him today. I’ll get you a quote range on costs.”
When he leaves, I look at my poor baby and burst into tears. I feel like such a bad pet parent. I’m able to calm myself by the time the vet comes back. He gives me the quote range, which is something like $680 at the lowest, $720 at the highest. I start crying again and the vet and vet tech give me concerned looks.
Me: “The ER wanted to charge me over $2,500.”
Animal Hospital Vet: “$2,500 to unblock a cat? That’s ridiculous.”
I agreed for him to do the procedure, and they took my cat to the back. He explained that I needed to put him on special prescription diet food after the procedure. In addition, if he became blocked three times within a short time span, such as a year, then we might need to look at surgery that would basically turn him into a “female”; the surgery makes the male cat’s urethra shorter and wider like a female’s, which is why females don’t get blocked.
I thanked him and left. Linus was in the clinic for three days and was well after that. There was some concern expressed by the vet that Linus’s blood sugar was high and that he might be diabetic, but it turns out he’s not, luckily.
Linus now is doing well. I’ve had no more scares since. He’s on special prescription food and is happy and healthy.
Time To Block That Particular Vet
Money, Pets & Animals, South Carolina, USA, Vet | Healthy | September 7, 2021
This takes place during the beginnings of the 2020 health crisis, over a span of three months, from January to March. I have had my cat Linus since he was four months old and got him from a local rescue, meaning he was neutered when I got him. In 2020, he was five years old. I take him to his annual checkups and he has never had any issues.
One day, Linus starts acting funny. He’s making a cry I’ve never heard and looks like he’s searching for something. He keeps pawing at my clothes and a rag that I use for dusting. I watch as he squats in an attempt to pee on the rag. I quickly scoop him up and put him in his litter box. He tries to pee, but hardly anything comes out. I’m worried that he has a UTI, which in neutered males can cause a blockage and, as I found out later, they only have about seventy-two hours before they die if they are blocked.
I call my vet and explain what is happening to set up an appointment. I talk to a woman on the phone who I assume is a vet.
Vet: “If he is blocked, then there is nothing we can do except refer him to the ER where they can treat him. You should just go to the ER instead of wasting your money to come to us first and then to the ER.”
I do this, not knowing this will be the first act of many stressful moments over this three-month time period.
At the ER, they take a look at him and say that he is not blocked but simply has a UTI. They give me three or four types of medication (ranging from pill to liquid) and send me on my way. This first visit is about $200 to $300. After following the instructions carefully and fighting my bratty baby, he seems to get better. I keep an eye on his litter box, and while his urine clumps aren’t normal-sized, he seems to be peeing again.
One morning, I notice Linus is having trouble peeing again. I leave for work, but since I’m concerned, I leave early to take him to the ER again. They check him again, and again they say that he’s not blocked, just a UTI. The vet also tells me he possibly has FLUTD (Feline Lower Urinary Tract Disease), which is more psychological than bacterial, where stress causes the cat to have UTI symptoms. Again, I am given the same medications, and this time I pay around $500 for this visit.
I follow the instructions for the medicine and Linus seems to get better, but then, a couple of weeks later, he is crying again either late at night. He is searching again for something soft to pee on. I take him to the ER again. They decide to hold him for a few hours for observation and testing. I’m exhausted and concerned. Unlike the previous two times, I can’t go into the ER waiting room because of the health crisis and they only do curbside. I head home until they call me to pick him up. Turns out he was a bit dehydrated and they gave him fluids. But they also say he’s not blocked. I believe I pay something like $700 for this visit.
When I get home, Linus is acting really lethargic. He’s hardly moving and looks like he’s in pain. It looks like he’s straining and making grunting noises. I call the ER and express my concerns that he is blocked. The front desk hands the phone to the vet.
ER Vet: “It sounds like he’s blocked.”
Me: “How much will it cost to unblock him?”
She tells me an amount that’s AT LEAST $2,500. I begin crying because I’m saving for a house and that would be a good chunk of my savings. When I tell her I can’t afford that, I will never forget what she says to me.
ER Vet: “Well, if you have bad credit, you can always sign up for [Medical Credit Card #1], or the vet specific [Medical Credit Card #2].”
I am beyond pissed.
Me: “My credit isn’t the issue. Could we try [medication]? Isn’t that supposed to relax the urethra?”
ER Vet: “Sure, we can try that, but it won’t help.”
I go back to the ER to get the medication and the vet tech there tells me to try an animal hospital (basically a local clinic) in a nearby town that does surgeries. This animal hospital happens to also be my mom’s vet. I thank the vet tech and make an appointment for the next morning at the animal hospital.
I take my cat to the animal hospital, where they tell me to wait in my car because of the health crisis. When I’m called in, they take me to the room and I explain everything, including the visits with the ER. The vet later comes in and does a physical exam.
Animal Hospital Vet: “Linus is definitely blocked. I’ll be able to unblock him today. I’ll get you a quote range on costs.”
When he leaves, I look at my poor baby and burst into tears. I feel like such a bad pet parent. I’m able to calm myself by the time the vet comes back. He gives me the quote range, which is something like $680 at the lowest, $720 at the highest. I start crying again and the vet and vet tech give me concerned looks.
Me: “The ER wanted to charge me over $2,500.”
Animal Hospital Vet: “$2,500 to unblock a cat? That’s ridiculous.”
I agreed for him to do the procedure, and they took my cat to the back. He explained that I needed to put him on special prescription diet food after the procedure. In addition, if he became blocked three times within a short time span, such as a year, then we might need to look at surgery that would basically turn him into a “female”; the surgery makes the male cat’s urethra shorter and wider like a female’s, which is why females don’t get blocked.
I thanked him and left. Linus was in the clinic for three days and was well after that. There was some concern expressed by the vet that Linus’s blood sugar was high and that he might be diabetic, but it turns out he’s not, luckily.
Linus now is doing well. I’ve had no more scares since. He’s on special prescription food and is happy and healthy.
The Only Thing Worse Than The Itching Is The Doctor
Bigotry, California, Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | September 6, 2021
Ever since her knee surgery, I haven’t seen my regular dermatologist. Instead, I see one of her two assistants. [Assistant #1 ] is ex-military, very brusk, and doesn’t like to do anything extra. [Assistant #2 ] is extremely sweet, a better doctor than my actual dermatologist, and was the first to figure out I have Polycystic Ovary Syndrome.
I go in once a year for a mole check as skin cancer is what ultimately killed my paternal grandma. This time, I’m stuck with [Assistant #1 ]. Because of my PCOS, I’m under the care of an endocrinologist, so I get my blood tested every three months. The PCOS has contributed to weight gain over the years, so yes, I am fat.
Me: “While I’m here… my feet have been super itchy. It’s just like I have ants crawling all over them.”
The assistant doesn’t even bother to look at my feet.
Me: “No, I’m not. My bloodwork shows that my blood sugars are well within normal range. I’m not even pre-diabetic.”
Assistant #1 : “If your feet are itching like that it’s because you’re diabetic and have neuropathy.”
Me: “I just saw my endocrinologist recently and I am not diabetic. All my bloodwork shows that everything is normal except for being severely anemic.”
Assistant #1 : “I’ll prescribe a steroid, but you’re diabetic and have neuropathy.”
She prescribes a topical steroid that does absolutely zilch for the itchiness. I end up finding more relief from a medicated powder from the dollar store. My blood work over the next year confirms I’m STILL not diabetic. On top of that, my feet are very ticklish, so I obviously have no neuropathy. On my next mole check a year later, I get [Assistant #2 ].
She notices the smell of medicated foot powder.
Assistant #2 : “Are you having problems with your feet?”
She begins to examine my feet.
Me: “Yes, they itch a lot. [Assistant #1 ] insisted I have diabetes and neuropathy, but she prescribed something anyway. It didn’t work.”
Assistant #2 : “You don’t have diabetes or neuropathy. You have a foot fungus.”
She prescribed a foam and a special powder. Within a week, my itchy feet stopped itching. And according to my endocrinologist, I’m STILL not diabetic.
She Could’ve At Least Asked First
Bad Behavior, Hospital, Reddit, Strangers | Healthy | CREDIT: Margali | September 5, 2021
I was leaving a doctor’s appointment and my ride arrived, so I stood up and propped myself on the outside of the seat while I was getting ready to fold my wheelchair. A woman ran up and tried to wheel it away — great brakes on my chair — and I had to struggle with her while my driver got out and came to help me.
Woman: *Whining* “But I need this chair for my mom! She’s aged! And this chair is so much nicer and cleaner than the other chairs around here!”
We had to get the guard involved. I could understand if it was a generic wheelchair in basic aluminum, but I guess she didn’t understand that the hospital didn’t have royal purple wheelchairs with cup holders, cane holders, and a chair bag.
Instagramedical Emergency
Bad Behavior, Boyfriend/Girlfriend, Germany, Health & Body, Patients, Reddit | Healthy | CREDIT: AleksFenix96 | September 3, 2021
I work as a paramedic in a small town in northern Germany, thirty kilometers away from the next big city. Sometimes we need to bring patients to the big city.
It is a hot and busy day, we roll the first six hours through the whole city, mostly taking care of small issues that just require transport. After the first real emergency, a car crash that needed transport to the mentioned bigger city, we are putting our stuff back together at the hospital.
Not even one minute after setting our status to “free for calls,” the dispatch has something for us.
Dispatch: “Woman, around twenty years old, feeling unwell, no more information.”
That means it could be anything, from toe pain to cardiac arrest.
After a ten-minute drive with “lights and music,” we arrive and ring at the door. The patient’s boyfriend comes to the door, recording video on his phone.
Patient’s Boyfriend: “Hey, guys, the ambulance came very quick. They even had sirens on!”
My partner and I exchange “What the f***?” looks.
Me: “Good day. We were called to [Patient]. Are we in the right place?”
Patient’s Boyfriend: *Still filming* “Yeah, come in, guys. That’s going to be great.”
Me: *Thinking* “What in the f*** is wrong here?”
We go in to find the young woman lying on the couch. She’s really thin — we can see some of her bones — and unresponsive. While my partner is checking her blood pressure, pulse, etc., and I am getting the monitor (EKG) ready, I ask the boyfriend what the matter is.
Patient’s Boyfriend: *Still filming us* “She was filming her sport tutorial for her Instagram followers and suddenly fainted. She is on a new diet; she just looks too fat.”
Me: “Has she eaten or drunk anything today? And could you please put the phone down?”
Patient’s Boyfriend: “Just a little bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice. No, I don’t need to put it down. These ‘blue light stories’ are epic on Instagram.”
We are interrupted by an alarm sound from the monitor. The patient’s blood pressure is worryingly low. And the rest of her vitals don’t look good, either.
Partner: “We need a doctor here.”
In Germany, we can call doctors to the scene if we need to give special medications or make invasive treatments. I call the doctor.
Me: “Mr. [Patient’s Boyfriend], stop filming. Your girlfriend is in critical condition.”
Patient’s Boyfriend: “Nah, man, this is going to be huge. She will love it to put it on her YouTube.”
Partner: *Sarcastically* “Yeah, the ‘How I Nearly Died’ vlog. Absolutely great idea.”
I prepare to put a needle in the patient’s arm. The boyfriend comes so close that he hits me and I nearly stab myself. That is the boiling point. I am now really pissed.
Me: *Calm but a bit louder and clearer* “If you don’t back off and put the phone down, I will get the police here and they will take care of it. You don’t understand, do you? Your girlfriend is lying here with bad blood pressure, oxygen, and pulse. I’m really worried that we are close to needing CPR. Even our doctor is on the way. So back off and put the phone down or the police will really take care of it.”
Patient’s Boyfriend: “Sorry, I can’t. This is my work.”
My partner and I exchange looks again.
Me: “All right, I’m calling the police.”
A few minutes after that, the doctor arrived. He was annoyed by the boyfriend, too, and told him to go away, but he still didn’t listen.
A few more minutes later, the cops came and made him delete all the footage. They stood with him outside until we went to the hospital.
We managed to get the patient to the ICU. She made it and is now in good hands. Hopefully, she dumped her boyfriend.
How Dairy Miss This?!
Doctor/Physician, Home, The Netherlands | Healthy | September 1, 2021
When I am around eight years old in the 1990s, I start to get random tummy aches. They appear out of the blue and often come with diarrhoea. My parents take me to our general physician, who can’t find anything. He sends me to a specialist, who does every test he can think of. They find nothing. Since my health seems in order — growing right, not dehydrated, etc. — the specialist tells my parents to keep a good eye on my weight, etc. “Make sure she eats healthy, like enough whole grains, fruits, veggies, and milk.”
I grow up okay and I seem to get fewer tummy aches when I eat at home. My parents deduce that it might come from fats or spices, things we don’t use that much of at home. I don’t like milk, but I love yoghurt and buttermilk, so my desserts are often those things mixed with fruits. I can drink litres of buttermilk or yoghurt in a day, so my parents are not worried about my calcium.
After my marriage, I come across a site that I wasn’t looking for that lists all my symptoms. I go to my new general physician again.
Me: “Remember all those tummy aches listed in my file? I was wondering… Could I be lactose intolerant?”
Doctor: “You know you shouldn’t read those sites online. They mention cancer every three lines.”
Me: “Yes, but the list—”
Doctor: “When do you often have tummy aches?”
Me: “When I go out for dinner.”
Doctor: “And why do you think you are lactose intolerant?”
Me: “Because I always end dinner with ice cream—”
Doctor: “That little does not—”
Me: “With whipped cream. And I love creamy sauces or creamy soups, which I often have at a restaurant, as well.”
Doctor: “Do you also get a tummy ache when you drink milk?”
Me: “No, but that’s because I don’t like milk. I drink buttermilk. And I prefer goat’s cheese, as well.”
Doctor: “Fine, let’s get you tested.”
After a while, I get a call.
Doctor: “Hey, [My Name], I never thought I would say this: the Internet was right. You are lactose intolerant. I can prescribe some pills if you want, but there are a lot of vegan alternatives nowadays. You could look into that if you want.”
So, after about thirty years, I finally found out what’s wrong with me, what specialists then couldn’t find. I have no idea why they didn’t look into that, but they no longer work in the field, anyway. I am absolutely not vegan, but I am glad there are many vegan alternatives available.
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