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.
(We have universal health care in Canada, and the card in Ontario is called an OHIP card, although OHIP does not cover everything. I am booking in a copy order when the customer notices my silicone bracelet which has, “[Friend] beats cancer,” on it.)
Customer: “That’s not a cure for cancer.”
Me: “Um, no, that’s my friend’s nickname. She’s just selling these bracelets to help support her cancer, since she has to take time off work and stuff. It’s her second time with it.”
Customer: “She must not have applied for sick leave, then!”
Me: “Um, of course she did. You don’t get your full pay on sick leave.”
Customer: “Nope, only 50%.”
Me: “Right. Hence the bracelets.”
(I try to go back to booking in her order.)
Customer: “There are lots of things she can apply for, you know. Tell her to look stuff up and do her research! She’s not trying hard enough!”
Me: “Well, I’m not one to tell her what to do about her cancer, but I will support her this way, since that’s what she’s doing. Plus, she might have to get pills this time and pay for those.”
Customer: “No, that should be free.”
Me: “Um, no, she was under the impression these drugs weren’t covered by OHIP. I think it’s just because it’s not as serious as it was the first time she had it, so she is just supposed to be getting them from the pharmacy.”
Customer: “Oh, no, I never said it would be covered by OHIP. Drugs are rarely covered by OHIP unless it’s going to save your life—” *which I beg to differ* “—but her work benefits should cover them!”
Me: “Not all of it.”
Customer: “Well, it should cover most of it!”
Me: *irritated by this point* “It depends on the jobs people have and what kind of coverage it provides.”
Customer: “Well, I know all about it! Tell her to do some research!”
(Ugh, I wanted to smack her! I didn’t, of course!)
Employees, Jerk, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, Reception, UK | Healthy | July 24, 2018
(My GP surgery usually has a two- to three-week wait for non-urgent appointments, but also has a limited number of on-the-day appointments available on a first-come-first-served basis. As these go very quickly, most people phone as soon as the surgery opens, so the phone lines are usually busy. I live close to the surgery, so I walk in just as it opens. One receptionist is on the phone, the other calls me forward.)
Me: “Hi, can I make an appointment today to see a doctor?”
Receptionist: “You have to phone for an on-the-day appointment.”
Me: “I… have to call? I can’t make one right here?”
Receptionist: “No, you have to phone.”
Me: “Why can’t I make one now?”
Receptionist: *glaring* “You have to phone. You can’t just walk in and book it.”
Me: “What’s the difference?”
Receptionist: “You have to phone.”
Me: “Okaaaay…”
(I step literally two steps away from the desk, pull out my mobile, and dial the surgery. Nobody else is waiting, so the receptionist is now free to answer the phones. Glaring at me the entire time, she answers the phone… to me.)
Receptionist: “[Surgery], how can I help?”
Me: “I’d like to make an appointment today, please.”
(The other receptionist had finished her call at this point, and just sat there open-mouthed looking backwards and forwards between us as I made an appointment, over the phone, with the receptionist sitting right in front of me.)
Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Medical Office, New York, USA | Healthy | July 24, 2018
(I start menstruating at 12 years old, but my periods never become regular over time like they are supposed to. Sometimes they last three days, sometimes six or seven. Sometimes I wait three weeks between periods, sometimes five or six weeks. For a while, it doesn’t bother me, but when I am 22, I decide to go to a gynecologist and ask if there is anything to worry about. I should also note that I look very young and am often mistaken for a teenager. At the doctor’s office, I am taken to an exam room where the nurse takes my history and tells me the doctor will be there in a few minutes.)
Doctor: *does not look at my chart* “I hear you’re concerned that your period isn’t regular yet.”
Me: “That’s right; it’s always a surprise. I just want to make sure it’s nothing I should be worried about.”
Doctor: *condescendingly* “Well, it’s not uncommon for periods to be irregular after they start. It can take a few years for your period to become regular.”
Me: *realizing she thinks I’m a teenager* “Ten? Is ten enough years? Because it’s been ten years.”
(The doctor goes white, quickly grabs my chart, and realizes I’m older than she assumed.)
Bad Behavior, Health & Body, Non-Dialogue, Pet Store, Pets & Animals, USA, Wisconsin | Healthy | July 23, 2018
I work for a very small, in-state pet store chain. All of us employees are major animal lovers and have pet experience of some kind or another; it’s pretty much a requirement if you want to get a job there. We offer, among other things, nail clippings. Most of the animals we see come in are obviously loved and well-cared for, especially if their owners are regulars. However, that’s not always the case.
A customer came in with a year-old male rabbit of an unidentified breed for a nail clipping. Rabbits don’t come in too often, but things seem fairly normal. Things started to get weird — in hindsight, anyway — when the customer asked us for any vets in the area that took rabbits. Apparently, the rabbit hadn’t been eating for three months — later corrected to three weeks — and she felt that something was wrong. Oh, boy, she had no idea.
According to my coworker who clipped the rabbit, he yawned during the clipping, revealing some very overgrown incisors. How overgrown, you may ask? So overgrown that the lower teeth were starting to poke into the poor bunny’s nostrils. Worse, he had matted fur on his butt, consistent with sitting in a cage for long periods of time. Even worse than that, the nails themselves turned out to be nearly an inch long. And considering he hadn’t been eating for so long, it was a wonder that he was still alive and not emaciated. The rabbit was also a total sweetheart, further adding to the heartbreak.
To make matters worse, the customer left the store for nearly an hour. We practically ceased all operations looking for her and figuring out what to do with the rabbit, since, as time ticked by, we gave up hope of her ever coming back for it. Thankfully, the customer did come back; it turned out she just stopped by the dollar store nearby. Once we told her the condition of her rabbit, she was genuinely shocked, especially when we showed her his teeth. It turns out that not only was she not getting his teeth trimmed, but she only gave him paper towel tubes to chew on, because, “That’s what Google said,” hence the overgrown lower incisors. And yet she wondered why he wasn’t eating!
We finally managed to give her the address of the nearest 24-hour emergency vet clinic to get the rabbit some fluids and grind down his teeth. We also gave her tips on how to get rid of the mats safely and recommended getting the rabbit out of the cage more often. She thanked us deeply, paid for the clipping, and left with the rabbit in tow, hopefully to the vet. I sincerely hope the owner learned from this experience and will start taking better care of the sweet little thing, but at the same time just thinking about it still pisses me off. No matter how understanding the lady was, I will never get over how much she neglected that poor little rabbit.
Moral of the story? Some people really should not own pets, and those who do should do their research before getting it.
Animal Abuse, Bar, Health & Body, Ignoring & Inattentive, Pets & Animals, UK, Weather | Healthy | July 23, 2018
(The UK has been struggling with a heatwave. We’ve just finished a lunch rush and things are a little quieter. We just cleaning up the bar area while people finish up their food when my coworker and I hear the most awful, rasping panting from a dog entering the door. An older couple enter with their small dog, who is barely able to to walk in a straight line, and sit themselves down at a table. The woman approaches us.)
Woman: “Hi, are you still serving food?
Me: “Yes, ma’am. Would you like some water for your dog before you order? We want to make all of our guests to be comfortable.”
(I ask this because I’m increasingly concerned for the dog’s wellbeing — its panting is sounding significantly worse and it is drooling excessively for a small dog — but I don’t want to sound too nosey.)
Woman: “Oh, no, he’s fine. He’s just tired from our walk up [Popular Tourist Cliff Walk about 2.5 miles long]. We have some water, anyway.”
Me: “No problem, ma’am.”
(I take her order and serve their drinks quickly, watching the dog drink almost half a litre of water rapidly with no change in comfort. Just as I go to check on another table, the dog gets briefly to its feet to vomit violently, only to collapse into the vomit. I quickly try to keep my other customers, including children, calm while the dog’s owners seem oblivious to the severity of its condition, which is now clearly heatstroke.)
Woman: “Oh, dear, someone’s drank too quickly and is tired!” *to my coworker and myself* “Will you be dears and help us clean up?”
(My coworker goes to clean up the vomit while I swiftly go into the kitchen to explain the situation to my boss, who is also the chef.)
Me: “Hey, [Boss], I think we have a dog with heatstroke out there. Is there anything we can do? I’m willing to call [Friend of mine who is a veterinary nurse], if you’d like.”
Boss: “There’s not much we can do, [My Name]; it’s not our dog. Offer to call [Vet a few miles up the road] for them and try to get them to go there; otherwise, you just have to continue as normal. I’m sorry.”
(I go back out and do as I’ve been told to do, offering help as much as I can.)
Woman: “I’m sure he’s fine. We’ll consider it if he doesn’t improve by the time our food comes out.”
Me: “Okay, ma’am. No problem.”
(I try to continue with my other tasks while still watching for any change in the dog. A few minutes later, the food is ready and I take it out to them. The dog is still severely panting, and the owners have now taken the water away to stop him from vomiting it up again. I have to bite my tongue and say nothing, cleaning dirty glasses behind the bar so I can listen to them talking and be ready to do something if the dog ends up going into shock or a seizure.)
Woman: *to a concerned customer* “Oh, he didn’t make it to the top of [Cliff Walk], but luckily we had a deck chair with us and we used that as a stretcher to carry him there! It was beautiful up there, you know? The sun and the heat was warming up all of our old bones wonderfully! There weren’t any other dogs, either, so we had most of the cliff to ourselves! It really was fantastic.”
(The couple left with their dog after an agonisingly long time eating their food, with all of us encouraging them to go to the vet again before they left. Several hours later when my shift ended, I went to the vets to pick up some wormers for my own pets only to find out the couple hadn’t come in. It wasn’t until the next morning my friend texted me to let me know they ended up coming in during the night. They had found the dog unresponsive in its own vomit again shortly after coming back to their caravan after visiting friends. The poor little thing died of heatstroke less than an hour later. I can’t help wishing I could have done more, and that the owners had not been so stupid as to take their dog for a walk in that heat.)
Arizona, Bad Behavior, Health & Body, Phoenix, Restaurant, Strangers, USA | Healthy | July 22, 2018
(I have just had an eye exam. This time I need mine dilated. The exam is good, and afterward, my grandma and I decided to head to [Restaurant] for breakfast. Note that, per doctor’s orders — and because I’m not stupid — I have my sunglasses on inside the restaurant itself. Any logical person would mind their own d*** business, despite there being a young adult sitting in a room with her back towards the window with sunglasses on. One lady, however, doesn’t get that and comes up to the table.)
Lady: “Why do you have sunglasses on?”
Me: *because it’s loud and I can’t hear well* “I’m sorry?”
Lady: “I said, ‘Why do you have your sunglasses on in here?!’ You’re high, aren’t you? You must be high!”
Me: *trying to keep a polite approach in the hopes that she leaves* “Ma’am, I can assure you, I’ve never even touched marijuana.”
Lady: “That’s what a pothead would say!”
Me: “So, because I have my sunglasses on inside, I’m a pothead, am I?”
Lady: “Yes, you f****** are! That stuff is bad for you!”
Me: “Certainly, because I’m allergic to the smell.”
(This is true. I get incredibly dizzy with the smell of weed.)
Lady: “You’re lying! You just had a blunt, and now you’re having a case of the munchies!”
Me: “Please, leave us alone.”
Lady: “Not until you leave!”
(I’m annoyed and have a headache from the noise, and my eyes are hurting, and I’m hangry. I move my sunglasses so she can see my eyes.)
Me: “THEY’RE BIG, NOT RED!”
(The lady, I guess not expecting a 4’11” girl to snap, stepped back and scurried off to whatever she was doing before. I can get not being a fan of weed — like I said, I have an allergy with the smell of it — but even if I had been smoking it, what good would yelling at me do? Sometimes just keep your opinion to yourself.)
Bad Behavior, Hospital, Patients, USA | Healthy | July 19, 2018
(I work in a children’s hospital. Like most hospitals, we have a code system for emergencies. In our hospital, Code Pink is missing child — either patient, or sibling or friend visitor. We are responding to a Code Pink involving a teenager girl — here after an attempted suicide — who has gone missing from her room. Part of the response is that everyone needs to stay where they are when the code is issued, while the nurses search every room in their unit and allied health professionals man the doors between units. I’m an allied health professional, so I’m guarding the door between two units. It’s also right before visitors are supposed to leave for the night. Several visitors come to me, trying to leave to go home.)
Me: “We’re searching for a missing child at the moment, so please return to your child’s room until we notify you that our search is completed.”
Most People: “Oh, absolutely. I hope you find them quickly.”
Man: “Well, I’m tired, and I’m going home.”
Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but you cannot leave right now.”
Man: “Well, I’m leaving.”
Me: “With all due respect, no, you aren’t. Even if you get past me, no one is coming in or out of the hospital right now.”
Man: *starts to push past me* “I’m leaving.”
Me: “You will be stopped at the main door by security, anyway. We need everyone to stay where they are.”
Man: “I’ll get through security, too.”
Me: “May I remind you that security has pepper spray and tasers? Sir, I’m sure you can imagine that we take a missing child very seriously, and security is not going to play games with you.”
(He dejectedly went back to his room. For those worried, it turns out that the girl’s “friends” were trying to break her out of the hospital. She was 17. They were 18. They made it to the train station outside. They got charged with kidnapping.)
Bad Behavior, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Non-Dialogue, USA | Healthy | July 16, 2018
The nearest clinic that takes my insurance is a pretty far drive for me, so I try to book multiple medical appointments for the same day, or at least get more than one thing scheduled each time I go in. On this particular day, I’ve booked two appointments: one consultation that should take about thirty minutes, and a prescription renewal for a psychiatric medication that should only be about fifteen minutes. The receptionist and I agree that it makes sense to put in some buffer time, just in case the consultation takes a little longer than expected, so my psychiatric appointment is scheduled to start fifteen minutes after my consultation should end.
I arrive at the clinic fifteen minutes early, check in for both my appointments, remind the receptionist of my schedule, and settle into the waiting room. It’s not unusual for appointments at this clinic to run a few minutes late, so I’m not surprised when we’re five minutes past my first appointment time and I haven’t been called back; I left the buffer time for a reason. However, by the time we approach the twenty-minute mark, I’m pretty concerned. I go to the desk and ask, and the receptionist promises someone will be with me soon. I remind him that I have the second appointment, and he tells me that the psychiatrist’s schedule isn’t jammed, so if I’m a few minutes late, that’s all right. I’m getting a little annoyed, but I try to let it go and go back to wait.
Another ten minutes pass before a nurse brings me back to take my vitals, at what was supposed to be the end of my appointment time. I ask him about the delays, and he tells me that it will be fine and the doctor will be right with me, and leaves me in the office, alone.
I wait in the office for another twenty minutes, now officially five minutes into my psychiatric appointment time, before I step back into the front office. The receptionist says that the consulting doctor’s schedule is completely backed up, so he sends me back to do my psychiatric appointment while I wait. The psychiatrist is very understanding when I explain the whole confusion, and we’re just starting to talk about my medication when another doctor throws the door open without knocking first. Apparently, this is my consulting doctor.
She’s very angry, and starts laying into the psychiatrist, yelling about how it was absolutely unprofessional for him to take me back before I’d met with her, how it was screwing up her whole schedule, and how my consultation today was already going to be difficult, going into details about why it would be. Finally, she turns to me and tells me that if I want to meet with her at all, I have to do it now, because her schedule is so tight today. The psychiatrist tells me to go ahead, and he’ll talk to the receptionist and make sure I can still see him today.
I really don’t want to deal with this woman, but the consultation is for a cancer screening, for a fast-acting type that runs in my family. I’m high risk for it, and if I have it, even the few weeks it might take to rebook a consultation with a less-PO’d doctor could seriously impact my treatment. She’s professional enough during my appointment, and can tell me that I am, in fact, cancer-free, but I’m still very uncomfortable with her.
Luckily, I am able to rebook the psychiatric consultation after just another twenty-minute wait, although I’m now here over an hour later than I’d planned to be. I’m ready to just run out as quickly as I can, but the psychiatrist asks me if I can stay and speak to a staff member about my experience today.
Turns out, the reason there was a twenty-minute wait was because he filed a report against the other doctor for barging into my appointment with him without even knocking first, and then for yelling at him, including information about my appointment in her rant that he had no reason to know, since it didn’t relate to his treatment of me. I’m not sure if what she did was technically a HIPPA violation, or if it just violated the clinic’s policy, but when I go to book another appointment six months later, and specify that I’d like to be seen by any doctor except her, I’m told that she’s no longer with the clinic.
Australia, Jerk, Medical Office, Nurses, Sydney | Healthy | July 15, 2018
(I am allergic to both latex and nitrile, but they’re both relatively new allergies for me, so I don’t think to mention them at first. I need blood taken, so the nurse and I are chatting as she gets the vials ready. As she reaches for the gloves, I notice the box.)
Me: “Oh, sorry. I forgot to say, I’m allergic to both latex and nitrile. Do you have different gloves?”
(The nurse looks at the box, as well.)
Nurse: “These are latex free.”
Me: “I know, but they’re usually nitrile, and I’m allergic to that, too. Do you have vinyl?”
(She grabs a box of vinyl gloves for me.)
Nurse: “Do you know how often I need to wear these? Maybe once a year. They’re horrible! They’re too big, and they feel awful on your hands! I hate them so much!”
(She continued to complain about the gloves as she took my blood. I know vinyl gloves are horrible; I have to wear them for work, too. But I’d also rather not spend the next few hours itching because I got latex or nitrile on my skin!)
Bad Behavior, Blood Donation, Employees, Jerk, New York, USA | Healthy | July 14, 2018
(I have been donating blood at least twice a year ever since I was 18 years old. Once the needle gets into a vein, I have no problems filling the bag. The problem is my veins tend to “squirm” under my skin, and if they don’t get pierced straight on, they have a habit of popping. Due to this, I am rather used to them needing multiple attempts to stick me. One time, I go in to make my donation, and after doing all of the paperwork, I am sat on the bench. The phlebotomist — blood drawer — walks up with a young guy.)
Phlebotomist: “Mr. [My Name]? This is [Trainee], and he is a trainee with us. He is almost done with his training. Would you be okay if he did the needle insertion on you today?”
Me: “I mean, it’s fine with me, but he might have a hard time. I’m sometimes hard to stick.”
Phlebotomist: “Okay, [Trainee], I’ll be over there if you need me.”
(The phlebotomist then walks away to go do a draw from another donor across the room.)
Me: “All right, [Trainee], looks like it’s just the two of us. Just to warn you, my veins tend to squirm a bit, and are easy to pop. Just take your time.”
Trainee: “Don’t worry, sir. This should be easy. Just squeeze on this ball, and… Shoot.”
(He slid the needle into my arm, and, like I warned him, my vein moved out of the way. He tries to change the angle of the needle while it is in my arm, causing a good bit of pain, and then scrapes the side of the vein, popping it.)
Trainee: “Darn! Don’t worry; this is fine. There is another vein I can use. Just make sure you sit still, please. Please squeeze. D***!”
(Another squirm and another pop, luckily with no digging inside of my flesh this time.)
Me: “Do you think you should get your trainer to come and look?”
Trainee: “No, sir. I am almost fully trained, and I have done this before. Is it okay if I move over to your other arm and give that one a shot?”
Me: “Sure, but you are going to have the same problem over there.”
(He moves over to my other side, cleans the skin, ties off the band, pokes at my vein with his finger a couple of times, and lines up the needle.)
Me: “Are you sure you don’t want to call your trainer over?”
Trainee: “I’m sure, sir. This will be fine. Just please don’t move while I’m inserting the needle. Squeeze. Fu… Um… Hey, [Phlebotomist], could you come over for a second, please?”
(He has managed to pop the third vein, and when extracting the needle, he ripped my skin a bit, causing me to start bleeding. When the phlebotomist gets over, he says to her
Trainee: “I don’t know what this guy is doing, but he keeps moving his veins while I’m working.”
Phlebotomist: “I doubt he is doing it on purpose. Let me try another vein, and I’ll show you how to do it.”
Trainee: “Umm… I already tried both elbows, and the veins all popped under me.”
Phlebotomist: “Why didn’t you call me when you started having trouble?”
Trainee: “It would have been fine if he hadn’t been wiggling his veins. Look, I tried both in his left arm, and one in his right, but his right is bleeding now, so I can’t do the other. Do you think I should go for an artery?”
Phlebotomist & Me: “WHAT?!”
Phlebotomist: “NO! YOU DO NOT TAKE BLOOD FROM AN ARTERY! NOT WITH THE TRAINING YOU HAVE! That donor over there is almost full; go take his needle out when he is done, and point him to the snacks.”
(The trainee walks away, muttering something under his breath that I can only assume is more blaming me for moving my veins. The phlebotomist apologizes profusely, saying that she hasn’t had any trouble with him yet today, he has been good with other donors, etc. As they can’t get blood from popped veins, she tells me to come back in a month after they have healed up. As I’m walking to the front door, I walk past the trainee, who gives me a glare, and says
Trainee: “Next time, sir, please hold still while we are inserting the needle.”
(When I went back in, the phlebotomist recognized me, and came up to apologize again, and said that the trainee no longer worked there, at least partially due to the fact that he kept blaming the donors if anything went wrong.)
Costa Rica, Doctor/Physician, Language & Words, Medical Office | Healthy | July 13, 2018
(Recently I discovered I have a mass next to my right knee; this, mixed with constant pain on my back, makes me go to a doctor. She recommends I get x-rays for both knees and back, and gives me a paper with all the indications for the professional in charge. Problem is, I can’t understand the handwriting, but she assures me they will.)
Receptionist: *on the phone* “Welcome to [Clinic]. How can I help you?”
Me: “I need two x-rays for my back and knees, as well as an ultrasound of my right knee.”
Receptionist: “What kind?”
Me: *tries to read indications* “Sorry, I can’t read my doc’s note.”
Receptionist: “Send it to us through [number].”
(I do, and wait ten minutes for the receptionist to return to the phone.)
Receptionist: “According to this, you need one x-ray of your knee, one of your feet, and one ultrasound. Be here at 10:20 am.”
Me: *not really paying attention* “Okay, great. I’ll be there.”
(I go in and pay first. Just then, I notice the x-ray for my back is missing. The receptionist asks for my instructions and shows me it doesn’t mention my back, only knees and feet. At first I let it go… but eventually it bothers me, so I call the doctor.)
Me: “Doc, I’m sorry to bother. Why didn’t you send me to get an x-ray of my back? The instructions only say knees and feet.”
Doctor: “Mmm, send over the instructions through a message, please.”
(I do.)
Doctor: “[My Name], it doesn’t say, ‘of feet,’ it says, ‘Take x-ray of back while on her feet.’”
Bad Behavior, Dentist, Ignoring & Inattentive, Illinois, USA | Healthy | July 12, 2018
(When I was a teenager I had two fillings put into separate back molars. The dentist didn’t wait until I was properly numb to do it, and both of them ended up coming out within the next few days while I was just watching TV. My family wasn’t exactly the best and didn’t believe me when I told them they came out, so I didn’t go back. Fast-forward to about a year ago. I’m out on a date, and I bite down with one of the teeth and the whole thing shatters into five pieces. I make an emergency appointment with the only dentist in town that can take me on such short notice — the dentist from before — and suffer for a day or two until I go in. When the dentist comes in and asks me why I’m there, I tell her about the tooth being shattered. She visibly rolls her eyes at my expense and takes a look, only to freeze in shock.)
Dentist: “Oh! It’s actually shattered. You know, that happens when you don’t get your cavities filled.”
Me: “I’d had it filled before, but it wasn’t done right and came out the next day. I was under eighteen, and my family wouldn’t bring me back.”
Dentist: “And you didn’t eat anything you weren’t supposed to?”
Me: “No, it wasn’t my first filling, and I followed the instructions.”
Dentist: “Well, whoever did the filling obviously didn’t know what they were doing.”
Me: “Well, you’re not too far off the mark, since you’re the one who did it.”
(She suddenly remembered me and actually looked embarrassed. She never apologized, but she was extra careful with explaining my options and giving me a crown — making sure I was properly numb this time — and when I went to pay, she’d knocked down the price a bit. This isn’t the only horrible story I have about her, but this was the last time I let her work on me. I’m glad we finally got a new practice in town and I can go somewhere else.)
Jerk, Medical Office, Nurses, USA | Healthy | July 12, 2018
(I am in high school, and for this semester I need to have a physical done so that I can participate in a mandatory PE class. My mom brings me over to the doctor’s office the school recommends, since our regular GP is currently out of town. At this time in my life, I am very active; I regularly go to karate lessons, hike, swim, and go mountain biking. I also take after my mother’s side of the family, who are built very squarish: short, with broad shoulders and hips. After going through all of the questions and tests, we have this gem of a conversation.)
Nurse: “It looks like everything is in order. Just remember that walking from the fridge to the couch is not ‘exercise.’”
Me: “Excuse me?”
Nurse: “Honey, calling it ‘hiking’ doesn’t make it any better for you.” *she turns to my mother* “Especially with that as an example.”
Mom: “I’m sorry; I didn’t realize that judgemental comments were part of the package. We don’t have to pay extra for them, do we?”
(The nurse looked shocked, but we got the paperwork we needed and headed out. We also let the doctor know about his nurse’s behavior.)
Airport, Bizarre, Health & Body, Non-Dialogue, USA, Wisconsin | Healthy | July 11, 2018
I work at a medical courier company. Basically, I go to different hospitals and pick up and drop off blood and urine samples because different hospitals are equipped to do different kinds of tests. There are some cases where the samples have to be sent on a plane because only a couple hospitals in the country do those certain tests. I go to the airport, where I drop off the box of samples. The box is big and clearly marked, “Biohazard,” and there are some stickers that say, “Biological Substances.”
I’m in line, and a woman comes up to me, looks me straight in the face, and asks, “So, is that like… arms and legs?” I just looked at her for a good 15 seconds before saying, “No.”
Blood Donation, France, Ignoring & Inattentive, Reception | Healthy | July 10, 2018
(I am a regular blood donator, something like ten times already in around five years, but I haven’t donated my platelets for almost a year due to a lack of time. I regularly get vocal messages from the Blood Donation Center asking me if I would agree to a new donation. This time, I call them back, around 20 minutes after the original call. I moved to [City #1 ], and the Blood Donation Center here does not have the proper equipment to perform platelet donation, so I am required to go back to [City #2 ] to do it, which I can only do during weekends.)
Me: “Hello, you just called me for a platelet donation. I would like to schedule an appointment, but I can only come to [City #2 ] during weekends as I’m living in [City #1 ], and I know I can’t do this at the local blood donation center.”
Lady: “Oh, yeah, please let me check.”
(She puts me on hold for around three minutes, which is rather unusual. I’m a bit busy, so it gets on my nerves, but hey, it’s supporting a good cause.)
Lady: “Well, [City #1 ]’s center never had the proper equipment for platelet donation.”
Me: “Yes, I know. That’s why I want an appointment in [City #2 ], on a weekend.”
Lady: “Well, okay. I have something on [date two weeks later] at 10:00 or 10:30; is that okay for you?”
Me: “Yeah, 10:30 would be perfect.”
Lady: “So 10:00.”
Me: “No, 10:30.”
Lady: “Okay. May I have your name?”
Me: “It’s [My Name].”
Lady: “I can’t find you. You’re not in the registry. You never donated your platelets, did you?”
Me: “Well, how could you call me, and leave me a vocal message asking me to come back to donate platelets, if I’m not in your registry?”
Lady: “I can’t find you. You’re not in the registry. If you had ever donated blood or platelets, you would be in the registry.”
Me: “You see, that’s also why I almost never call back.”
(I called back the next day, got another lady on the phone, and surprisingly — not really — got an appointment booked, as she very easily found me in the registry.)
Doctor/Physician, Extra Stupid, Germany, Health & Body, home, Siblings | Healthy | July 10, 2018
(The minute my brother graduates from medical school, my family turns him into their private doctor. Every little ailment or problem is run by him, even if it’s something completely normal. Our grandparents especially tend to call him at the oddest times to ask about this thing hurting or this bit feeling weird. One day in my kitchen, I burn myself very badly all over my upper arm. I don’t have time or money to go to the ER or see a doctor, so I just treat it the way I learned in first-aid class. It heals fine, except the area of skin is now a darker shade than the rest, and rougher.)
Brother: *noticing the dark, scarred areas a few weeks later* “[My Name], what’s that? It looks like burn marks.”
Me: “Yep. I burned myself with boiling water, but I treated it this way–” *explains everything I did*
Brother: “Okay, luckily you did do everything properly, but I’m still angry. You’re literally the first one in the family to actually need my medical expertise, and you didn’t ask for it?!”
Me: “I didn’t want to bother you like the grandparents do all the time.”
Brother: “You had second degree burns! Maybe even third! You should’ve seen a doctor, like your own brother.”
(I agree now that I was young, naive, and quite dumb not to call him. I’m planning to cover the scars with tattoos, anyway. My brother has requested at least one tattoo dedicated to him to remind me of my own stupidity.)
Columbus, Doctor/Physician, Medical Office, Ohio, Silly, USA | Healthy | July 9, 2018
(After 20 years of seeing only female OB/GYNs, I have moved to a new city and can only get in to see a male gynecologist. I have been reassured by a friend, who is also a doctor, that he is one of the best in his field, but I’m nervous even after chatting with him at his desk. Once I’m by myself and getting “into the position” in an exam room, I notice only one stirrup is up, leaving my foot away from the wall hanging loose.)
Doctor: *knocks politely before entering* “Okay, are you settled in?”
Me: “Well, I couldn’t scoot to the edge of the table because only one stirrup is working. Is it broken?”
Doctor: *smiling and wincing* “No, I just wait until I’m seated to move up that one. Walking into it once was enough to never let that happen again.”
Me: *realizing it would be at groin level for him as well as for me* “Well, that is an occupational hazard I wouldn’t have considered!”
Bad Behavior, Hospital, Patients, USA | Healthy | July 19, 2018
(I work in a children’s hospital. Like most hospitals, we have a code system for emergencies. In our hospital, Code Pink is missing child — either patient, or sibling or friend visitor. We are responding to a Code Pink involving a teenager girl — here after an attempted suicide — who has gone missing from her room. Part of the response is that everyone needs to stay where they are when the code is issued, while the nurses search every room in their unit and allied health professionals man the doors between units. I’m an allied health professional, so I’m guarding the door between two units. It’s also right before visitors are supposed to leave for the night. Several visitors come to me, trying to leave to go home.)
Me: “We’re searching for a missing child at the moment, so please return to your child’s room until we notify you that our search is completed.”
Most People: “Oh, absolutely. I hope you find them quickly.”
Man: “Well, I’m tired, and I’m going home.”
Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but you cannot leave right now.”
Man: “Well, I’m leaving.”
Me: “With all due respect, no, you aren’t. Even if you get past me, no one is coming in or out of the hospital right now.”
Man: *starts to push past me* “I’m leaving.”
Me: “You will be stopped at the main door by security, anyway. We need everyone to stay where they are.”
Man: “I’ll get through security, too.”
Me: “May I remind you that security has pepper spray and tasers? Sir, I’m sure you can imagine that we take a missing child very seriously, and security is not going to play games with you.”
(He dejectedly went back to his room. For those worried, it turns out that the girl’s “friends” were trying to break her out of the hospital. She was 17. They were 18. They made it to the train station outside. They got charged with kidnapping.)
Bad Behavior, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Non-Dialogue, USA | Healthy | July 16, 2018
The nearest clinic that takes my insurance is a pretty far drive for me, so I try to book multiple medical appointments for the same day, or at least get more than one thing scheduled each time I go in. On this particular day, I’ve booked two appointments: one consultation that should take about thirty minutes, and a prescription renewal for a psychiatric medication that should only be about fifteen minutes. The receptionist and I agree that it makes sense to put in some buffer time, just in case the consultation takes a little longer than expected, so my psychiatric appointment is scheduled to start fifteen minutes after my consultation should end.
I arrive at the clinic fifteen minutes early, check in for both my appointments, remind the receptionist of my schedule, and settle into the waiting room. It’s not unusual for appointments at this clinic to run a few minutes late, so I’m not surprised when we’re five minutes past my first appointment time and I haven’t been called back; I left the buffer time for a reason. However, by the time we approach the twenty-minute mark, I’m pretty concerned. I go to the desk and ask, and the receptionist promises someone will be with me soon. I remind him that I have the second appointment, and he tells me that the psychiatrist’s schedule isn’t jammed, so if I’m a few minutes late, that’s all right. I’m getting a little annoyed, but I try to let it go and go back to wait.
Another ten minutes pass before a nurse brings me back to take my vitals, at what was supposed to be the end of my appointment time. I ask him about the delays, and he tells me that it will be fine and the doctor will be right with me, and leaves me in the office, alone.
I wait in the office for another twenty minutes, now officially five minutes into my psychiatric appointment time, before I step back into the front office. The receptionist says that the consulting doctor’s schedule is completely backed up, so he sends me back to do my psychiatric appointment while I wait. The psychiatrist is very understanding when I explain the whole confusion, and we’re just starting to talk about my medication when another doctor throws the door open without knocking first. Apparently, this is my consulting doctor.
She’s very angry, and starts laying into the psychiatrist, yelling about how it was absolutely unprofessional for him to take me back before I’d met with her, how it was screwing up her whole schedule, and how my consultation today was already going to be difficult, going into details about why it would be. Finally, she turns to me and tells me that if I want to meet with her at all, I have to do it now, because her schedule is so tight today. The psychiatrist tells me to go ahead, and he’ll talk to the receptionist and make sure I can still see him today.
I really don’t want to deal with this woman, but the consultation is for a cancer screening, for a fast-acting type that runs in my family. I’m high risk for it, and if I have it, even the few weeks it might take to rebook a consultation with a less-PO’d doctor could seriously impact my treatment. She’s professional enough during my appointment, and can tell me that I am, in fact, cancer-free, but I’m still very uncomfortable with her.
Luckily, I am able to rebook the psychiatric consultation after just another twenty-minute wait, although I’m now here over an hour later than I’d planned to be. I’m ready to just run out as quickly as I can, but the psychiatrist asks me if I can stay and speak to a staff member about my experience today.
Turns out, the reason there was a twenty-minute wait was because he filed a report against the other doctor for barging into my appointment with him without even knocking first, and then for yelling at him, including information about my appointment in her rant that he had no reason to know, since it didn’t relate to his treatment of me. I’m not sure if what she did was technically a HIPPA violation, or if it just violated the clinic’s policy, but when I go to book another appointment six months later, and specify that I’d like to be seen by any doctor except her, I’m told that she’s no longer with the clinic.
Australia, Jerk, Medical Office, Nurses, Sydney | Healthy | July 15, 2018
(I am allergic to both latex and nitrile, but they’re both relatively new allergies for me, so I don’t think to mention them at first. I need blood taken, so the nurse and I are chatting as she gets the vials ready. As she reaches for the gloves, I notice the box.)
Me: “Oh, sorry. I forgot to say, I’m allergic to both latex and nitrile. Do you have different gloves?”
(The nurse looks at the box, as well.)
Nurse: “These are latex free.”
Me: “I know, but they’re usually nitrile, and I’m allergic to that, too. Do you have vinyl?”
(She grabs a box of vinyl gloves for me.)
Nurse: “Do you know how often I need to wear these? Maybe once a year. They’re horrible! They’re too big, and they feel awful on your hands! I hate them so much!”
(She continued to complain about the gloves as she took my blood. I know vinyl gloves are horrible; I have to wear them for work, too. But I’d also rather not spend the next few hours itching because I got latex or nitrile on my skin!)
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