(Regrettably, our local university is the main reason that county STD rates are the second-highest in the state (the highest-ranking county is home to a naval base). Outbreaks are common and rather a grim joke with local healthcare providers. The county has purchased a new emergency radio system and one of their officers has arrived to train our staff on how to use the equipment.)
Instructor: “The great thing about this system is that it is linked to over two hundred towers, state-wide. This means that if you need to, you can communicate not only throughout the county, but with other jurisdictions as well. For example; let’s say you have to set up some kind of emergency clinic at the University for… I don’t know, what’s an epidemic that the students might experience there?”
Me: *without thinking* “Probably chlamydia.”
(My boss shushed me, but our director of nursing almost fell off her chair from laughing so hard.)
Medical Office, Tennessee, USA | Healthy | November 7, 2017
(I’m a nurse and am bringing a patient back to do blood pressure, temperature, and a urine check before they see the doctor.)
Me: “All right, ma’am, this is going to be your room, but do you feel as if you could pee in a cup for me real quick?”
Patient: “No, not right now.”
Me: “That all right! I’ll be right back with my blood pressure cuff to check your blood pressure, okay? We can get you some water to drink after that.”
Patient: “Okay, but I really need to pee, and do you need me to save any of it to check for infection?”
(My 12-year-old friend has many physical health problems, so she has to be at the hospital a lot. She has had many surgeries and medical procedures, and therefore has built up a bit of pain tolerance as well as being able to go for longer periods of time without food. My friend and her mom get onto the elevator. My friend has eaten nothing for over a day; she is very tired, and we all had a long day at school with lots of work and homework. Before the operation, she has to take a medication. She has a fear of needles, so she always takes medication via pill when she can. This takes longer, as the pill needs longer to work, but they are scheduled accordingly.)
Doctor: “Let me get the shot.”
Friend’s Mom: “Actually, she request—”
Doctor: “Ugh, she doesn’t need to do that. She’s not a little kid!”
Nurse #1 : “Actually, they requested the pill, because [Friend] has anxiety and we don’t want her to have a panic attack before surgery.”
Doctor: “She needs to stop being a special snowflake and grow up!”
Friend: “I was diagnosed by Dr. [Name] seven years ago. Do you think I want panic attacks?”
Doctor: “Fine.”
(The doctor goes to get the medication. My friend’s mom and the nurse leave the room. Suddenly the doctor rushes out and sticks her with the needle.)
Friend: *is taken by surprise and tenses up, making the shot hurt more, and starts to have a panic attack*
Hospital, New Jersey, USA | Healthy | November 6, 2017
(I’m a nurse working on a medical-surgical floor. One night, I am assigned to a certain patient who is known to be extremely difficult, and honestly, a bit of an idiot. He is very uncooperative, and won’t even let us put an IV in him. He has a mess of medical problems, particularly uncontrolled diabetes. We check all diabetics’ blood sugar levels throughout the day in order to control their levels with insulin shots.)
Me: “Good morning. I have to check your blood sugar.”
Patient: “Whatever.”
(I check the level and it’s shockingly low. A normal blood sugar level is 60 – 120. His is 40.)
Me: “Sir, your sugar is very low. Let me get you some juice to boost it up.”
Patient: “I can’t drink juice. I’m diabetic.”
Me: “Yes, but in this case, juice will help boost your sugar quickly. We don’t want it to drop any lower. Lemme get you orange juice, okay?”
Patient: “Fine.”
Me: *comes back later with a cup of OJ* “Here.”
Patient: “I don’t want that.”
Me: “Sir, I just told you that you need to take some juice for your sugar.”
Patient: “I don’t like OJ.”
Me: *a little annoyed that he didn’t tell me so in the first place* “All right. What will you take?”
Patient: *after a few minutes thinking* “I want apple juice.”
Me: “Fine.” *leaves and comes back with apple juice* “Here. Drink this.”
Patient: “I don’t want that.”
Me: *at this point, I’m in complete disbelief* “Sir, you just told me you would drink if I got you apple juice instead of OJ!”
Patient: “I’m diabetic. I can’t drink juice.”
Me: “But your sugar is low and we really need to boost it up. It’s dangerous to have low blood sugar.”
Patient: *getting angry* “You can’t force me to do what I don’t wanna do! Don’t try to trick me into taking that juice! I don’t even like apple juice!”
(At this point, I’m about ready to throw the juice in his face. I leave the room just as the doctor passes by with some surgical students, asking what’s up. I explain the situation to the doctor.)
Doctor: “Let us talk to him.” *takes the juice from me and walks in with the students*
(I leave to take care of another patient. Five minutes later, I return to see the students coming out of the room one by one, all of them shaking their heads and chuckling. Finally the doctor comes out and I ask him if he took the juice.)
Doctor: *shakes his head* “That man is an absolute idiot. Just make sure he gets breakfast. If he passes out, let us know.”
Hospital, New Jersey, USA | Healthy | November 6, 2017
(I’m a hospital nurse. In my experience, some patients tend to see the hospital as some sort of medical hotel, where they’re allowed to ask for whatever they like whenever they like just because they’re sick.)
Patient: *at two in the morning, at the other end of the unit* “HEY! HEY! SOMEBODY HELP ME OUT!”
Me: *coming in, resisting the urge to smack him for waking up the d*** unit instead of just using his call bell* “Yes, sir, how can I help you?”
Patient: “I want cereal.”
Me: *utter disbelief* “Sir, it’s two in the morning. We don’t have any cereal.”
Patient: “Then go to the kitchen and get me some cereal.”
Me: “The kitchen is closed and won’t open until morning. You’ll have to wait until breakfast.”
Patient: “But I’m hungry now!”
(Keep in mind that this patient has a history of uncontrolled diabetes and has even lost a foot. He usually keeps a stash of food in his room against our advice, and his blood sugar is always extremely high due to snacking and refusing medications. We always try to limit his snacks to better control his sugar.)
Me: “Sir, you already had your dinner and your snack for tonight. You need to wait until morning. We don’t have any more snacks for you.”
Patient: “This is the worst hospital ever. First you try to poison me with your whacked drugs and then you wanna starve me all night long? Why can’t you give me any cereal?”
Me: *already past my limit and trying to keep an even tone* “Because this is a hospital, not a hotel. I’m not your maid; I’m your nurse. I’m not here to enable your bad habits and give you whatever you want just because you want it. I’m here to help you maintain your health. But you’ve been uncooperative, rude, and downright disrespectful. You don’t like how things are here? You have the right to refuse. And you have the right to leave. But you can guarantee that you will be back. And you keep heading down this path, you can also bet that you’re gonna have more problems, too.”
Patient: “…”
Me: “…”
Patient: “…I’ll go to sleep and wait for breakfast, then.”
British Columbia, Canada, College & University, Medical Office | Healthy | November 6, 2017
(I’m in my second year of university, working part time and in full courses for science with labs. I don’t exactly have free time at convenient hours, so I decide to go to the doctor on campus to confirm my suspicion. They ask me to fill out a form covering the basics, including pregnancy, STDs, allergies, and a list of symptoms. I make it quite clear what my issue is.)
Doctor: “Hello, [My Name]. How are you feeling?”
Me: “Not bad.”
Doctor: “Do you need a pregnancy test?”
Me: “Uh… no.”
Doctor: “Well, we can screen for STDs. It will take about a week to get results back.”
Me: “That’s… that’s not what I came in for.”
Doctor: “Oh.” *looks at chart* “Why are you here, then?”
Me: *points to my swollen closed eye and slightly swollen face* “I think I have pink eye?”
(I don’t really know how he missed it, but he wrote me the prescription for antibiotics and I went on my way.)
Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, Pennsylvania, USA | Healthy | November 5, 2017
I had some issues with ovarian cysts when I was in high school, so I had to go in for a pelvic ultrasound. In the instructions we received prior the appointment I was told I needed to drink 32 oz of water before coming in so that my bladder would be full, which helps them to get better images. Now, I was 15 and very skinny. I had just gone through a growth spurt and at 5’5″ I weighed in around 100 pounds. I drank the water and immediately had to pee; I looked down, my pelvic area was bulging already. This was 10 minutes after I drank the water, right as we were leaving, and it was a 30 minute drive to the office.
Needless to say, that drive, through a bumpy, uneven construction site, was miserable. I was in such physical pain by the time we got to the doctor that I was in tears sitting in the waiting room. When I finally got called back to the ultrasound room and I lay down on the table, the ultrasound tech gave my visibly full bladder, by this point halfway to a pregnant belly, a bit of a side eye, but continued with her explanation of the procedure. I heard none of this, as all of my energy and focus were tied up in not urinating all over that table.
She begins the ultrasound, poking at the watery skin ball that is my pelvis, until after a few moments she stops. She can’t see anything. There’s too much liquid.
I ask her what to do and she tells me that I need to go to the bathroom (which was luckily adjacent to the exam room) and “pee a little, then stop” so that there would be a good amount of liquid for her. By this point, I have been in intense physical pain because of this full bladder for roughly an hour, so these instructions felt more than a little impossible. But, being a determined kid, I went in there and against all odds, I did it. So the rest of the ultrasound goes off without a hitch, and afterward I am finally able to fully relax my bladder for the first time that day.
As I was getting ready to leave, the technician asked me how much water I had been instructed to drink, and was appalled when I told her 32 oz. She went off about how they should’ve looked at my chart to see my height and weight because they would’ve been able to tell just from that that the amount should’ve been lower, and it was lucky that I was able to control my bladder so well; otherwise, the whole appointment would’ve been a waste.
A few days later my mom gets a call from the doctor’s office and guess what? Turns out the whole appointment was, in fact, a waste, since the notes were wrong in my file and the ultrasound tech performed an abdominal ultrasound instead of a pelvic one. I was less than pleased.
At least I knew not to drink so much water for the next one
(I work night shift in a hospital lab. On night shift, there are three working at a time with my same job title, which is the highest level of certification in the department, other than our medical director. In all, there are six night shifters with that certification for the entire fairly large specialty hospital, and if we can’t work, we figure it out with one of the three who are off. One night, due to family emergencies, sickness, and a coworker who “wasn’t in the mood to come to work today” (they were fired weeks later), I and one other end up working a night shift. I am filling in unexpectedly, and have just gotten off a flight that morning and haven’t slept in thirty hours by the time morning comes. The other coworker has a fever of 103; we make the executive decision that I’ll do anything requiring patient contact and if his fever goes above 104, we’ll call the ER downstairs. It also turns out to be what we call a “must be a full moon” night. By morning, we’re both almost crying from sheer exhaustion, sleep deprivation, and misery. Come morning, there is an employee appreciation breakfast.)
Day Shifter: “How was the night?”
Me: “I haven’t slept in thirty hours, [Coworker] has a fever of 103, four analyzers broke, the ICU is literally out of beds, they’re tripling up patients into the double rooms in MedSurg, and the ER is using the hallway as overflow for the waiting room.”
Day Shifter: “Well, we were wondering if you two could stay maybe an hour late so all the day shift could go to the breakfast?”
(We told them no way. They weren’t happy. At that point, we didn’t care.)
Arkansas, Dentist, USA | Healthy | November 3, 2017
(I am having a filling in my tooth replaced with a new material.)
Me: “So, doctor, I’ve had problems in the past with Novocain not really working with the standard dose. I may need a slightly larger dose to fully numb the area up.”
Dentist: “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
(I do worry, but I decide maybe he’s using something a little stronger than I’ve been given before. He begins to drill out the current filling and I jump, because I can clearly feel the vibrations, when I know I shouldn’t.)
Me: “No, stop! It’s not numbed!”
Dentist: “No, that’s normal. Don’t worry.”
(He continues to drill, and I can FEEL IT. I squirm and yell and try to smack his arm with my free hand, but he just tells me to be still. He continues on, and for a brief moment, the pain is so intense, everything looks silver. So, I do the only thing I know that will stop him at this point. I bite him, which tears his latex glove.)
Dentist: “What was that for?!”
Me: “PAIN IS F****** SILVER!”
(In the end, I got my larger dose of Novocain to fully numb the area, and a note in my file that I need at least a dose and a half.)
Blood Donation, New Hampshire, USA | Healthy | November 3, 2017
(I am donating blood at a traveling clinic that has come to my college. I have a rather intense needle phobia and like to use donating blood as a way to get over this fear just as much as an opportunity to help others. However, when the needle is in me I become visibly tense and my breathing quickens. Sometimes the nurses worry that I am going to pass out or go into shock, so I always warn them about my fear, assure them that I will NOT pass out, that I’m just anxious, and ask them to count to three before they stick me, which reduces my anxiety. They are usually very understanding of this request.)
Nurse: “Okay, we’re all set now. You’re just going to feel a pinch and a sting.”
Me: “Can you please count before you do it?”
Nurse: *legitimately confused about this request* “Count? Why?”
Me: “I have a bit of a needle phobia. I’m not going to pass out; I just don’t want to be surprised by the needle.”
Nurse: *still with a confused expression* “Okay…”
(She then proceeds to count to three as fast as she can… WHILE she is already sticking me with the needle. Lo and behold, I panic, push myself several inches up in the chair, and feel tears begin to stream from my eyes involuntarily.)
Nurse: “Oh! Well, I didn’t know you were gonna jump up in your chair like that!”
(She leaves to tend to other donors. I begin to calm down, but tears are still streaming down my face as a result of the unpleasant surprise.)
Nurse: *coming back to check on me, notices my face* “Is… is something sad going on in your life right now?”
Me: “Nothing other than the nightmares I’m gonna have tonight…”
(I live in a small town in the middle of nowhere. There is a small hospital, as well as a holistic health clinic. The answering machine for the holistic health clinic says
Clinic: “You have reached [Clinic]. We are open from [time] to [time]. If it’s an emergency, go to the hospital in [City a little over an hour away]. If you cannot make it to that hospital, go to the hospital in [Smaller City around 40 minutes away]. ONLY IF YOU WILL NOT LIVE to get to that hospital should you go to the local hospital. In that case, good luck… Please leave a message after the beep.”
(The unfortunate thing is they are quite right. While the staff seem nice enough, they have so little practice that they really aren’t any good. I got a small gash in my knee once, and needed stitches. Somehow the remaining scar is now double the size of the original gash. Since then I’ve always made a point to go to a different hospital if I need medical care.)
(I live in a small town in the middle of nowhere. There is a small hospital, as well as a holistic health clinic. The answering machine for the holistic health clinic says
Clinic: “You have reached [Clinic]. We are open from [time] to [time]. If it’s an emergency, go to the hospital in [City a little over an hour away]. If you cannot make it to that hospital, go to the hospital in [Smaller City around 40 minutes away]. ONLY IF YOU WILL NOT LIVE to get to that hospital should you go to the local hospital. In that case, good luck… Please leave a message after the beep.”
(The unfortunate thing is they are quite right. While the staff seem nice enough, they have so little practice that they really aren’t any good. I got a small gash in my knee once, and needed stitches. Somehow the remaining scar is now double the size of the original gash. Since then I’ve always made a point to go to a different hospital if I need medical care.)
Connecticut, Dentist, USA | Healthy | November 2, 2017
(I was born with what is called lateral incisors anodontia, which means I am missing lateral incisors, the teeth in my upper jaw on either side of my front teeth. It’s all over my dental records and quite clear from X-rays or just looking inside my mouth that thing’s aren’t quite normal.)
Oral Surgeon: *looking at an X-ray* “The lower wisdom teeth are impacted, so they definitely have to come out. I see the uppers have come through, but we should take those out as well.”
Me: “Are you sure the uppers need to come out? I was born without lateral incisors, so the wisdom teeth came in fine are far enough forward to meet the lower molars.”
Oral Surgeon: *looks in my mouth for a few seconds* “Yes, they still need to come out.”
Me: “Okay, fine. How much will this cost?”
Oral Surgeon: “Extracting the impacted teeth is covered by your insurance, but it will cost $300 to extract the other two.”
(My family and I are royally ticked off about the out of pocket cost, but don’t see any way to avoid it. We decide to pay for the extraction up front and return in a week for the surgery. I choose not to get put under so I am (thankfully) awake and aware when, after the oral surgeon injects Novocaine into the root of an upper wisdom tooth and starts to grip it with a tool, this happens.)
Oral Surgeon: “What the h***? What the f*** is going on here?”
Nurse: “What is it?”
Oral Surgeon: “Are there missing teeth?”
Nurse: “Let me count.”
Me: *through the tools and the drugs* “Yes.” *I reach up and tap where my lateral incisors would be* “These.”
(The nurse and oral surgeon walk a way for a moment to talk. When they come back
Oral Surgeon: “It looks like you are missing your lateral incisors. Your wisdom teeth are far enough forward that they meet your lower molars. There is clear wear on them so you’re obviously using them when you chew. Since they are being used, would you prefer to keep them in?”
Me: “Yes! I told you all this during the consultation.”
(On the plus side I got to keep two wisdom teeth. On the down side, we still had to deal with this office for over a month, since they were very reluctant to give back the money we paid for extractions that never happened despite telling us immediately after surgery that everything would be refunded in full!)
Florida, Hospital, USA | Healthy | November 1, 2017
(My aunt is pregnant with my cousin after years of miscarriages and a stillbirth. She’s at one of her ultrasounds when the doctor notices something weird.)
Doctor: “I think your baby is malformed.”
Aunt: “What are you talking about?”
Doctor: “I mean she isn’t developing properly. She might be born disfigured.”
Aunt: “How bad are we talking? She’s not going to die, is she?”
Doctor: “I can’t tell for certain, but it looks like she’s missing a leg.”
Aunt: “What?! What do you mean my baby is missing a leg?!”
Doctor: “I mean unless it’s hidden somewhere, it’s gone.”
(Over the next few weeks the doctor subtly implied over and over again that she should terminate the pregnancy due to the malformation. She ended up switching doctors when he got fed up and straight up told her to terminate because apparently allowing a child to exist with a deformity was akin to abuse. When she gave birth, my cousin indeed only had one leg. She learned how to walk with a prosthetic at a very young age and is now 23, athletic, and happy, and you wouldn’t know she only had one leg if she didn’t show you her prosthetic. We’re all still horrified that the doctor thought terminating her in the name of “protecting” her was the only course of action, especially after my aunt and uncle had suffered so many previous losses.)
Medical Office, New York, Rude & Risque, USA | Healthy | November 1, 2017
(I am getting X-rays done because I’m going to have a procedure done soon. Beforehand they make you drink this thick gooey liquid that supposedly makes it easier to take the X-rays. Before the doctor comes in, the nurse is asking me some preliminary questions.)
Nurse: “Do you have any difficulty swallowing?”
(Being as immature as I am, I have to try really hard to contain my laughter in order to answer no. Then the doctor comes in
Doctor: “Do you have any difficulty swallowing?”
(I try really hard not to laugh and say no.)
Doctor: “Are you sure? I’m gonna give you this thick liquid to swallow; it’s gonna feel a little slimy as it goes down your throat.”
(I can’t help it and crack up.)
Doctor: “Oooookay, I guess I’m going to have to describe this a different way. You’re the fifth person today that laughs when I explain this process, and that’s not even including the new nurse in training.”
(We have a giant inflatable ghost on display for Halloween. It doesn’t quite sit right and tends to lean to the side, so we frequently adjust it.)
Coworker: “[My name]! The ghost is falling again.”
Me: “Okay…”
(We spend about five minutes fiddling with it, until we get it to sit up right.)
Coworker: “Oh, no. His ascot got flipped backwards.”
(We proceed to grab boxes and stick-like things, trying to flip the ascot back around to no avail.)
Me: “OH! I’ve got it!”
(I run away with no explanation and return with a toy extendable lightsaber. I make the “vwing” noise and I flick it and extend the lightsaber. I succeed in straightening the ghost’s tie on the first attempt.)
Coworker: “…You just fixed the ascot of an inflatable ghost with a lightsaber.”
(It is Halloween. The hospital staff have put up decorations, but they’re minimal. I’m trying to wheel a patient who is in labor, to the room she was assigned, along with her husband.)
Patient’s Husband: “We should put her in the room with the witch hanging over the door.”
Me: “I’m sorry. That room’s actually a different size. I’m supposed to take you to room 79.”
Patient’s Husband: “But that room has a ghost. She wants a witch.”
Me: “The only room we have with that decoration is half the size of this one, and doesn’t have all the same equipment in it. This is the room you paid for.”
Patient’s Husband: “It has to be a witch. She’s been real nasty all week.”
(As she hears her husband say this, the wife is looking less and less pleased. She is a week overdue, and has been in for false labor pains the past two weeks.)
Me: “That’s interesting, but there aren’t any decorations inside the room anyway. What is inside this room is a much wider space for the doctor and nurses to provide her with better care.”
Patient’s Husband: “She wants a witch, so put her in the room with the witch.”
(Finally, the patient has had enough and speaks up.)
Patient: “Shut up. I want to get this kid out in whatever room the people who know what they’re doing think is best, you dumb troll!”
(During Halloween at my clinic, my boss allows us to dress up a little. Being a Star Trek fan, I wear a Starfleet medical uniform and download a Star Trek soundboard app on my phone.)
Patient: “Hello, sir, I am [name] and I’m here to see Dr. [name].”
Me: “Oh, yes, I have you here right on time. Just have a seat and we’ll call you soon.”
Patient: “Well, while you’re here, I don’t suppose you can scan me with your tricorder to see?”
Me: “Well, if you want me to!”
(I open my soundboard and start playing the tricorder sound as I start scanning him.)
Patient: “Hahaha! Oh, my god! I am laughing so hard, my chest is hurting!”
Coworker: “[My name], you’re such a nerd.”
Me: “I believe that goes with the uniform I’m wearing.”
Australia, Hospital, Language & Words | Healthy | October 30, 2017
(Making bookings for patients is very easy. All I need is name, phone, modality, body part, and doctor name. I’ve been on the phone for a few minutes, the patient telling me a rather detailed explanation why she needs a scan of her back, yet not telling me anything I need to know. I’m polite, don’t interrupt, but I am spending too much time on this call and my coworker needs help with patients lined up.)
Me: “Okay. That doesn’t sound good. Did your doctor want an x-ray, ultrasound, or CT?”
Patient: “Scan of my back. My back.”
Me: “On your form your doctor gave you, did they write X.R., C.T. or U.S. anywhere?”
anguMe: “The paper the doctor gave you. Can you read it to me?”
Patient: “I have a paper. It says nothing.”
Me: *still very polite* “It doesn’t have your name on it? Not the doctor’s name and signature?”
Patient: “Yes. My name is [Patient].”
Me: *I can’t take it down until I know what they need and what room to start in, so I make a mental note for later* “Okay. Now the paper has nothing on it?” *I know it’s repetitive, but I have to confirm for what I have to say next if it’s true*
Patient: “Nothing. There’s nothing!”
Me: “Okay. So that means it’s invalid. You’d need to go to the doctors and get him to write you a referral.”
Patient: “It’s here!” *she’s now livid* ‘No! No. No. It says here!”
Me: “I’m sorry?”
Patient: “It says X.R. spline—” *yes, s.p.l.i.n.e.* “—Lubosac; my back!”
(I gathered it was an x-ray lumbosacral spine, but don’t you just love how information materialises?)
Diễn Đàn Người Việt Hải Ngoại. Tự do ngôn luận, an toàn và uy tín. V́ một tương lai tươi đẹp cho các thế hệ Việt Nam hăy ghé thăm chúng tôi, hăy tâm sự với chúng tôi mỗi ngày, mỗi giờ và mỗi giây phút có thể. VietBF.Com Xin cám ơn các bạn, chúc tất cả các bạn vui vẻ và gặp nhiều may mắn.
Welcome to Vietnamese American Community, Vietnamese European, Canadian, Australian Forum, Vietnamese Overseas Forum. Freedom of speech, safety and prestige. For a beautiful future for Vietnamese generations, please visit us, talk to us every day, every hour and every moment possible. VietBF.Com Thank you all and good luck.
News
Library
Technology
Giải Trí
Portals
Tin Sốt
Home
