Very Bad Reception, Part 20
Music | Working | April 21, 2017
(I work at a market research firm. Part of my job involves calling the manufacturers of high-tech devices to interview them. Some of the companies I call are very large, and others are quite small family firms. Some of the smaller companies have local radio stations on instead of hold music. Usually these are country music stations with ads about farm equipment. One time though:)

Me: “Hello, this is [My Name] calling from [Company]. Could I be connected with [Project Manager], please?”

Receptionist: “Sure thing. Please hold.”

Me: “Okay.”

Hold Music: *really loud gangsta rap* “MY MONEY AND MY HOES!”

(I started laughing so hard I had to hang up and call back again.)

Very Bad Reception, Part 19
Bosses & Owners, Jerk, Lazy/Unhelpful, Office, Spouses & Partners, UK | Working | November 27, 2017
Receptionist: “Hello, [Business].”

Me: “Hi. Could I please speak to [Manager], please?”

Receptionist: *click*

(I phone again, thinking I was just disconnected by accident.)

Receptionist: “Hello, [Business].”

Me: “Hi, I think—”

Receptionist: *click*

(Knowing she actually cut me off this time, I phone back again.)

Receptionist: “Hello, [Business].”

Me: “Why do you keep cutting me off?!”

Receptionist: “Because this is a cold call, and I’m told to hang up on them.”

Me: “Actually, I’m [Manager]’s husband, and I’d like to speak to him.”

Receptionist: “Yeah, right!” *laughing* “I’ve met his wife.” *click*

(Having had enough, I decide to just drive down.)

Receptionist: *smiling brightly* “Hello, welcome to [Business]. How can I help you?”

Me: “I’d like to speak to [Manager].”

Receptionist: “What reason do you have to speak to him? Do you have an appointment?”

Me: “I’m his husband, and no.”

(She realises who I am and sneers.)

Receptionist: *sarcastically* “Really? You’re that desperate?”

(Coincidently, my husband happens to walk by.)

Husband: “[My Name]? What are you doing here?”

Receptionist: “You know this degenerate?” *smugly* “I was just about to have him removed.”

Husband: “What? Why? He’s my husband!”

(The receptionist blushes and we stand in awkward silence for a few seconds.)

Me: *to the receptionist* “You want to explain?”

(The receptionist stammered through her explanation, with me inserting her claim that he had a wife after she neglected to mention it. My husband actually found it hilarious. She isn’t allowed near the phones anymore, though.)

Very Bad Reception, Part 18
Medical Office | Working | December 14, 2016
(I’m not the best at keeping track of things on the calendar. I realize that I have not booked an appointment to get my daughter’s follow up vaccines, so I call one morning.)

Me: “Hi, my daughter needs to get her booster shots. I’m afraid I’ve put this off by two months.”

Receptionist: “No problem. You can bring her in this morning.”

Me: “Oh! Perfect! Thanks! We’ll be in soon.”

(She takes my daughter’s name and info. I hung up and began to gather what we’d need for our time out of the house. Just as I reach the front door with diaper bag, book, and baby, the phone rings.)

Me: “Hello?”

Receptionist: “Hi. This is [Receptionist] from [Doctor’s Office].”

Me: “Yes?”

Receptionist: “I’m afraid your daughter won’t be able to get her booster shots on a walk-in basis today as she is two months past schedule.”

Me: “Oh, yes, I know we’re late. What should I do then?”

Receptionist: “You’ll have to call for an appointment.”

Me: “Can I make the appointment now?”

Receptionist: “No. You’ll have to call to make an appointment.”

Me: “Okay.”

(I hang up, look up the number (this was before caller ID), and call the doctor’s office.)

Receptionist: *same voice as before* “Hello, [Doctor’s Office]. [Receptionist] speaking. How can I help you?”

Me: “Yeah, I’m calling to make an appointment for my daughter to get her booster shots.”

Receptionist: “Oh, you don’t need to call for that. She can get them as a walk in.”

Me: “No, I’ve put it off too long. I was told we’ll need an appointment.”

Receptionist: “No, you can just walk in.”

Me: “I was told by you that we’d need an appointment.”

Receptionist: “No, you can just walk in.”

Me: “You called me not three minutes ago saying we’d need an appointment.”

Receptionist: “No, you can just walk in.”

Me: “Okay, instead, I’ll be picking up my daughter’s medical records. We’ll be changing doctors. How soon can I get those?”

Receptionist: “Changing doctors? Why?”

Me: “Just please get the records together. I’ll pick them up in an hour.”

(We did change doctors. Sad, because I liked that one. But dealing with the receptionist was more than I could take.)

All Doctors To Procreation Stations!
Doctor/Physician, England, Jerk, Medical Office, UK | Healthy | August 2, 2018
(I’ve been having stabbing pains in my abdomen and eventually go, by myself, to the doctor surgery. I am also a “Miss,” as in, not married.)

Doctor: “I see you have PCOS. This pain could just be that.”

Me: “I know there’s pain related to that, but it’s not in the right places and does not feel the same.”

Doctor: “Okay.”

(He’s reading my notes, which surprises me, as other doctors at this surgery don’t.)

Doctor: “You know, it’s not as bad as you may think. There’s a lot we can do now to make sure you can have children now.” *goes on a really long spiel about getting pregnant and having kids, etc.* “Do you want me to arrange an appointment to discuss it with [Doctor]? Or would you like to discuss it with your partner first?”

Me: *thoroughly bewildered* “Um… No, thanks.”

Doctor: “You should talk to your partner about it. He might want kids whilst you’re both young.”

(He went on about PCOS more and having kids, before going back to the reason I was there in the first place. I get making sure I knew that there were options for kids in the future, but I don’t have a partner, and don’t want kids –which he didn’t check before going on about it — and that wasn’t the reason why I was there.)

You’ll Stress-Knit A Whole Outfit At This Point
Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Massachusetts, Medical Office, Psychiatrist, USA | Healthy | August 1, 2018
(I’m waiting to see my psychiatrist for a medication check-up. This office schedules meds appointments in fifteen-minute blocks; they’re a quick in-and-out to make sure the meds are working before the prescription is refilled. I arrive five minutes before my appointment and am told I’m seeing a new doctor. I’m a little annoyed that they didn’t tell me this when the appointment was being set up — my father works in the mental health field and I’m uncomfortable being seen by his coworkers — but whatever; maybe my regular doctor is out sick. So, I go to the waiting room. And wait. And wait. At twenty minutes past my appointment time — so, five minutes after it is supposed to be over — I hear the receptionists chatting. They say something about the new doctor having computer problems. Okay, stuff happens. Forty minutes past my appointment time, the person who is waiting before me gets into a shouting match with the receptionists about how late things are running. I’m frustrated too, but an extra person yelling won’t change anything, and I have plenty of time, so I keep waiting. Finally, fifty minutes after my scheduled time, a harried-looking man calls my name and introduces himself as the doctor. I’m expecting him to apologize for the delay, or offer an explanation, or anything. Nope. He doesn’t say a word until we get to his office. Now my appointment starts in earnest.)

Doctor: “So, do think you’re depressed?”

Me: *pause* “This appointment is literally to treat my diagnosed depression, so, um, yeah.”

(He doesn’t respond at all to this. He doesn’t even look at me. He has a walking desk, so he’s power-walking in place while he types on his computer. And he keeps typing. For almost ten minutes. I almost stand up and walk out. But I’ve already been here forever, I don’t want to have to do this all again, and I need my meds refilled. So, I take out my knitting and work on that for a bit.)

Doctor: “Do you want to keep taking [Medication #1 ] and [Medication #2]?”

Me: “Yes, please.”

(He types for a few more minutes.)

Doctor: “I’ve sent in the prescriptions for those. I’ll see you again in five months.”

Me: “Thank you.”

(I get up to leave.)

Doctor: “Wow! You’re so fast at knitting! What are you making?”

Me: “A sweater. Bye.”

(I was at that office for over an hour, but in the appointment for less than fifteen minutes. He said almost nothing to me, and half of what he did say was about knitting. And when I went to the pharmacy, only one of the prescriptions had actually been sent over!)

No Spoonful Of Sugar Is Helping This Medicine Go Down
Bad Behavior, Florida, Jerk, Patients, Pharmacy, USA | Healthy | July 31, 2018
(When you come to pick up a prescription, I have to make sure it’s going to the right person or I get written up and, if I get written up enough times, lose my job. This particular pharmacy asks that we verify the address on file, but if they don’t know it, I’ll usually take some other manner of verification if necessary. It’s late, and there’s an hour and a half left to go of a seven-hour day, and all I want to do is go home, so I admit I’m a bit tired. A guy comes up who couldn’t be more than 22, I’d guess, and I smile and go to the register, asking him who he’s picking up for.)

Guy: “My girlfriend.”

Me: “Okay. What’s her name?”

Guy: “[First Name].”

(I need a last name in particular to search, and unfortunately most of the younger crowd usually never give their last name unless prompted. I have no idea why.)

Me: “What’s her last name?”

Guy: “[Last Name].”

(I go over to get it, which doesn’t take long, and return.)

Me: “And what’s her address, please?”

(He gives me this look like I’ve told him that the sky is green or that he’s standing on his head.)

Guy: “I’ve picked up before and they’ve never, ever asked me for her address before.”

(Then he clearly hasn’t picked up for her before at this pharmacy, because we always ask for the address. I say it so often that even when I’m doing things that don’t require it, I sometimes end up saying the words. Sometimes I end up asking them their address before I ask their name, before I can stop myself.)

Me: “Um… We always ask for the address.”

Guy: “No one has ever asked me before!”

Me: “Well, sometimes if you don’t know it, we’ll try another way to verify. Do you know it?”

Guy: “No!”

Me: “Okay, what’s her date of birth?”

(That, he knows. He tells that to me and I’m assured that I have the right person. A new law was passed in July that on certain types and classes of medicines, I now have to ask for a form of ID and enter it into the computer. What he’s picking up falls into that class.)

Me: “I need to see your ID, please.”

Guy: “Why?”

Me: “It’s the law as of the first of July. I have to have an ID.”

Guy: “Does that mean I have to get hers from the car?”

Me: “No, I need yours, since you’re picking it up.”

Guy: “But… does that mean I have to get hers?”

Me: “Um… No. I need yours.”

Guy: “I don’t have mine.”

Me: “Then she has to come in and pick it up.”

Guy: “Why can’t I just go get hers and give it to you?”

(Now I can understand his hesitancy. There’s a big storm that has been going on all day, but neither weather nor annoying teenagers are going to make me break the law.)

Me: “Because it’s her license. Whatever license I have has to be for the person picking up. It’s the law.”

(We go back and forth about this for another minute, to the point that my pharmacist has to come over and back me up, telling him that we have to follow all rules and regulations, and if it’s her license, it has be her. He finally goes out to get her and comes back in. I think this is a wonderful opportunity to do my job right now that she’s here.)

Me: “What’s your address?”

Girl: *throws her ID on the counter* “On file.”

Me: *blink*

(I’ve never had a customer refuse to give their address. Sometimes they’ll pretend to give me a hard time or forget some of the numbers, but I’ve never had someone give me a smart a** remark about it being “on file,” because most have the intelligence to realize that there’s a reason I’m asking for it and it’s most certainly not to hear myself talk. I want to keep my job.)

Me: “I’m sorry; we ask that for verification. If you don’t know yo—”

Girl: *interrupts snottily* “I know my address. It’s [address].”

(She picked up her license from the counter and proceeded to throw it again. I decided I’d had enough of dealing with the twat that was clearly just too lazy to come in and sent her boyfriend in for her, since I could see no legitimate reason for her not to come in besides the rain. And part of me wanted a little bit of revenge for these people half my age giving me a hard time, so I took my time, every bit of it that I could, prolonging the transaction just because they were antsy. As they left, she shot me a glare, snatched up her prescription, and then went to the industrial scale nearby that people use to measure weight and proceeded to jump up and down on it once or twice before leaving.)

Suffering Bad Pet Owners
Bad Behavior, Maryland, Pets & Animals, USA, Vet | Healthy | July 30, 2018
(I work the front desk in a highly recommended vet hospital that has both appointments with doctors and a walk-in emergency service. Emergency visits are always a trip. A young man walks in, carrying his dachshund mix. He tells me that his dog is having respiratory distress, so I take her back to see the doctor first before getting his information. It turns out that the dog has been having breathing troubles for two days. The doctor is not impressed with that info and, with client approval, takes some x-rays to see what might be going on internally. It’s cancer, a lot of cancer in all of the places. The dog is not comfortable outside of oxygen, so the vet goes to talk to the owner to explain that euthanasia is the only humane option. By this point, the owner’s father has come to join him and has brought his own dog. He is handling the dog very roughly and occasionally whacks the dog lightly with the end of the leash when he thinks the dog is misbehaving.)

Father: “Vets just want to take your money! Don’t worry, [Dog], they’re not going to see you. This is where dogs come to die.”

(He is making other clients uncomfortable, so I warn the ER doctor as she goes in to speak with them. The client is understandably shocked and upset, but the father is whole other matter.)

Father: “We’re not ready to put her down yet. Can you give us meds to keep her comfortable for another week?”

Vet: “Sir, she isn’t comfortable at all outside of oxygen. It would be against medical advice to take her out of oxygen and take her home.”

Father: “I’ll take her out of oxygen if I want to! It’s not like she’s suffering!”

(The vet was literally so angry she had to leave the room because yes, this dog was suffering! The father continued to be resistant, but the client agreed that it was in her best interest to euthanize her immediately, and handled the rest of the visit like a rational adult.)

After Hours Is After You
Impossible Demands, Medical Office, Patients, Texas, USA | Healthy | July 29, 2018
(I work for a company that takes hospital calls and after-hours calls for doctor’s offices. The majority of our doctors DO NOT take certain type calls after office hours, and only specific doctors can be called. Some patients refuse to acknowledge that and only make themselves look the bigger fool. It is late on a Friday.)

Me: “Hello! You’ve reached [Service]; how can I help you this evening?”

Caller: “I need [Doctor] paged.”

Me: “All right, ma’am, [Doctor] is not on call; however, the on-call doctor will be taking the page.”

Caller: “No. I don’t want the on-call doctor; I want [Doctor].”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I am unable to do that. It’s against policy to page doctors not on call.”

Caller: “I don’t care; I want [Doctor] paged now.”

Me: “All righty, ma’am, I’ll need this information.”

(I list off information needed and the caller interrupts.)

Caller: “Why do you need that information? You’re the doctor’s office; you should be able to look at the computer.”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m not the doctor’s office. I’m [Service]; I handle after-hours calls at a separate location.”

Caller: *huffily gives half the info needed*

Me: “I also need the reason you need to page the after-hours doctor.”

Caller: “I need my birth-control refilled. I ran out today and I need more.”

Me: *trying not to let the aggravation seep into my tone* “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m unable to page the doctor for this reason. Prescription refills are to be handled by the office on Monday when they open.”

Caller: “But this is an emergency!”

Me: “I apologize, but I am unable to send that page.”

Caller: “You’re the doctor’s office! You have to send it to the doctor! What am I supposed to do until then? Not have sex?”

Me: *just over her attitude* “Ma’am, the doctor’s policy is that prescription refills are to be handled by the office on Monday.”

Caller: *rains down a multitude of expletives before threatening to get me fired and hangs up*

(She STILL calls almost every other month with the same issue. Friendly reminder: if you see you have two days for ANY prescription, please, please, please call it in before then and don’t wait until after hours to get a refill!)

Cholesterol-lol
Jerk, Medical Office, Nurses, Texas, USA | Healthy | July 28, 2018
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

(I am a female and a teenager. I’m temporarily on a medication that has a lot of side effects, one of the main ones being high cholesterol. I have no prior history of high cholesterol, though. I’m at the doctor’s office with my mom specifically to check that the side effects of the medication are not getting out of hand.)

Nurse: “Okay, so, looking at your results, your cholesterol is higher than it should be.” *addressing my mom* “Mom, no more serving hamburgers, and no more fast food! All that salt, red meat, and fat is really bad for teenagers, even if that’s all they want to eat.”

Mom: “Actually, we never eat fast food, and we’ve been eating pescatarian for the past few months.”

Me: “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve gone to a fast food restaurant in years.”

(The nurse looks a little flustered at this point.)

Nurse: “Well, I know how teenagers are in the summer, so try to do some walking, at least! No more laying around on the couch all day!”

Me: “I’ve actually been swimming a mile every day, and I am working as a lifeguard.”

(The nurse is starting to look annoyed, like she doesn’t believe us.)

Nurse: “Right… Well, you need to fix this, or we’re going to have to put you on medication, and you’re too young to be on cholesterol medication.”

(My mother is getting annoyed and defensive now.)

Mom: “She’s on [Medication]; that’s the whole reason we’re here! Isn’t high cholesterol one of the side effects of the medicine?”

Nurse: *glaring at my mom* “Well… Sometimes.”

Mom: “Don’t you think that might be the reason she has high cholesterol, then?”

(The nurse just walked out at that point, and we didn’t see her the rest of the visit. We mentioned it to the doctor later, but she just said, “Well, your cholesterol is kind of high.” Luckily, once I got off the medication a few months later, my cholesterol dropped back down. But seriously, at least ask questions before making patronizing assumptions about someone’s diet and exercise.)

A Crazy Lack Of Competence
Bad Behavior, Boston, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Massachusetts, Nurses, USA | Healthy | July 27, 2018
(I’m Bipolar I and not medicated. We’ve tried a few different combinations of drugs for me, but unfortunately I either have side effects or it simply doesn’t help anything. While therapy has been helpful, it’s not perfect; I still need the occasional trip to a psychiatric hospital. For this particular incident, I am sent to a completely different hospital, which I later learn is more adequately equipped to handle patients seeking drug rehab. However, even that seems to be inaccurate, as I learn during my three-and-a-half day visit. On day one, a patient and the head of the wing are talking in a common area:)

Patient #1 : “When do you think I can go home?”

Doctor #1 : “Sunday. Your insurance lets us hold you another week.”

(For a little context, during a previous group session I had with [Patient #1 ], he mentioned he’s been here almost two weeks and the head of the group commented on how much progress he’s made. As my stay continues, it isn’t uncommon to overhear the nurses gossiping about how they can’t believe the doctors still won’t discharge [Patient #1 ]. Day two: one of the other patients is a new mother with apparently no thought filter. As a result, she frequently talks about how she has to pump if the subject even remotely drifts towards family or children. One of the other patients finally gets fed up with it and a fight nearly breaks out. Unlike the mother, the other patient is allowed to leave the wing to go have lunch in the cafeteria.)

Doctor #2 : “Okay, [Patient #3 ], you just lost your cafeteria privilege for today.”

Me: “But doesn’t [Patient #2 ] have to stay up here, too?”

Doctor #2 : “Of course.”

Me: “So, you’re going to lock them in the wing together when most of the staff is down in the cafeteria?”

Patient #1 : “Besides, isn’t [Patient #3 ] getting discharged tomorrow?”

(After enough of us band together, the doctors finally agree the best thing they can do for both patients is to separate them. Also of note, a fourth patient is discharged at the end of day two, with a certain nurse helping her gather her things. On day three, though I’ve only had three or four sessions with her, I bid [Patient #3 ] farewell as she is gathering her things from the storage locker with the same nurse who assisted yesterday’s discharge. Just as I go to leave:)

Patient #3 : “Where’s my backpack?”

Nurse #1 : “Your what?”

Patient #3 : “My backpack. I came in with a pink backpack from [Brand]. Where is it?”

Nurse #1 : “We only had one like that. It was [Patient #4]’s, wasn’t it?”

Patient #3 : “Wha?!”

Nurse #1 : “She said that bag was hers. We gave it to her when she left last night.”

Patient #3 : “YOU GAVE HER MY BACKPACK?!”

Nurse #1 : “Sorry. We’ll call the police and report the theft.”

Patient 3: “WHAT THE F***’S THAT GOING TO DO? SHE’S BEEN GONE A DAY ALREADY! WHY DIDN’T ANY OF YOU NOTICE THE BAG WASN’T LABELLED FOR HER?” *begins crying*

Nurse #1 : “Calm down! It’s just a backpack!”

Patient #3 : “THAT BACKPACK HAD MY WALLET IN IT! WITH MY LICENSE AND SOCIAL SECURITY CARD! YOU LET HER STEAL MY IDENTITY!”

Nurse #1 : “We can replace those things!”

Patient #3 : “IT HAD THE ONLY PICTURE I HAVE OF ME WITH MY FATHER! YOU CAN’T REPLACE THAT! HE DIED AFTER I WAS BORN!”

Me: “Get the f****** police already, you dips***!”

(I didn’t know what else to do. The police do show up, though I have no idea how this story ends or if anything was done about [Nurse #1 ]. On day four — my release day — I’m sitting in the common area playing cards, waiting for my girlfriend to show up and drive me home. Needing a fourth for Hearts, one of the nurses agrees to join us.)

Nurse #2 : “[My Name], you sure know how to pick ’em. Of all the weeks you could’ve shown up!”

Me: “I’m amazed, too.”

Nurse #2 : “Yeah, but this ain’t even the worst of it. One patient last year always ran his mouth. ‘I’m in for bestiality!’ ‘I’m a member of the local KKK and they think this’ll cure me!’ and on and on. All cause he didn’t want to admit he tried to kill himself after his girlfriend broke up with him.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Nurse #2 : “Yeah, he just kept making excuses to justify the cuts on his arms.”

Me: “You can’t tell us that! His medical records are still privileged!”

(I’ve never been back. I haven’t looked it up yet, because I’m truly frightened that it might still be open.)

Might Actually Be Worth Getting Whooping Cough, Instead
Dublin, Ireland, Jerk, Medical Office, Reception | Healthy | July 27, 2018
(I’m midway through my pregnancy and have been putting off getting the whooping cough vaccine, so I call my doctor to schedule an appointment.)

Me: “Hi. I was wondering if I could book an appointment for the whooping cough vaccination?”

Receptionist: “What’s your name and date of birth?”

Me: “That’s [My Name] and [date].”

Receptionist: “It says here you’re 22 weeks.”

Me: “Yep.”

Receptionist: “Then, no, you can’t have an appointment.”

Me: “Um, right. Is there any reason why not?”

Receptionist: “The vaccine is only available from 26 weeks.”

Me: “Oh, right. I thought [Doctor] said I could get it from 16 weeks. I must have misheard. It’s okay, though, I can wait another four weeks.”

Receptionist: “Let me check with the doctor. Hold the line.”

(Pause.)

Receptionist: *sarcastically* “Well, I guess the doctor just knows more than me, huh? Clearly I’m just a receptionist, so I wouldn’t know anything. Apparently you can get it from 16 weeks.”

Me: “So, can I book an appointment?”

Receptionist: “At 11 on Monday.”

Me: “That’s perfect. Thank you.”

Receptionist: “The vaccine isn’t free, you know.”

(Most health care is free while pregnant in Ireland, but things like vaccines aren’t.)

Me: “Yep, that’s fine. I have no issue paying.”

Receptionist: “Good, because you have to pay. You’re not getting it free.”

Me: “I know.”

Receptionist: “Because it’s not free. You have to pay.”

Me: *Pause* “Is there anything else you need from me?”

Receptionist: “No, but when you come in for the appointment you have to pay.”

Me: “Okay, bye now.”

Ugh… Mondays
Germany, Health & Body, Ignoring & Inattentive, Patients, Wordplay | Healthy | July 27, 2018
(I work as a speech therapist. While I mostly work with children, I have a handful of adult patients with brain damage. As most of them aren’t able to walk, I visit them at home. All of the patients have fixed appointments once or twice a week. After some recent changes, I end up with an awkward schedule — driving from one end of the town to the other, back and forth — that makes me lose about two hours a week due to driving. I plan to coordinate this better and ask all of my patients if they are okay with different times and/or dates. It works well with everyone at first. I talk to one of my patients, a senior citizen, whom I visit every Monday and Wednesday.)

Me: “I plan to change my weekly schedule. Would it be okay if we moved Monday’s sitting from 11:00 to 13:50?”

Patient: “Well, the physical therapist is there until 13:45, so it should be fine.”

(On the next Monday, I arrive at 13:55. The physical therapist is still with her.)

Me: “Oh, am I early? I am sorry. I thought you two would be done by now”

Physical Therapist: “Oh, no, we still have 15 minutes left. We always have until 14:10.”

Me: “I’m sorry; I didn’t know that. [Patient], we need to reschedule our Monday’s appointment.”

Patient: “Huh? Why? I thought it would be only once. I figured we could cut the therapy a bit shorter today and go back to normal next week.”

Me: “I’m afraid I can’t do that, as I already gave that time to another patient. I am so sorry that I didn’t make it clear that the change would be permanent. My schedule is packed, but what about Tuesday, 11 o’clock instead of Monday?”

Patient: “I am at the daycare on Tuesdays and Fridays”

Me: “That isn’t a problem for me. We have lots of patients in day care. I could visit you there, if that’s okay with you?”

Patient: “Yes, let’s do this.”

Me: “Okay, so now, instead of Monday, I will visit on Tuesdays every week.”

(With everything being clear, we start practicing. On Wednesday I visit her as always, reminding her of our new permanent appointment once again. The next Tuesday, I drive to the day care facility to find her completely surprised, but not by the fact that I showed up there today.)

Patient: “Where were you yesterday?”

Me: “We’ve moved the appointment from Monday to Tuesday. That’s why I’m here today.”

Patient: “Yes, we talked about you coming here on Tuesday, but I didn’t know that meant Monday would be cancelled.”

Me: “We have to have therapy twice a week, so instead of Monday and Wednesday, we now do Tuesday and Wednesday.”

Patient: “Ah, I see.”

(We go on normally. Everything works fine for two weeks, until I get stuck in traffic one Tuesday morning and don’t make it to her. I call her to let her know. The next day, I visit as usual.)

Patient: “Where were you on Monday? I thought you’d be here on Monday.”

(I start explaining again why I can’t come in on Mondays and how we moved it to Tuesday.)

Patient: “But I thought that would be only once. I didn’t know you wanted to come to the day care every week. Every time you come, I miss out on the games and quizzes we do there.”

Me: “I am sorry, but that’s why I asked you if it’s okay before I actually changed the plan. I don’t have many options left right now.”

(I feel bad for her, as I obviously didn’t explain it to her properly, so I explain it again and make extra sure she understood what happened. Finally, I offer to sacrifice one of my lunch breaks to make room for her.)

Me: “The only open appointment would be Thursday at 11:30.”

Patient: “No, that’s not possible, either. Can’t we do Monday, 11:00?”

Me: “As I already explained, I am on a huge tour and can’t be back before 13:30, which won’t work because of the physical therapy. Is there something else you do on Thursdays?”

Patient: “No, it’s just so inconvenient. Why can’t we do Monday?”

Me: “Because I asked you if we could change the time and date. If you had said no, I wouldn’t have changed anything. But I did, and your old appointment is no longer available. What would be a more convenient time for you?”

(Surprisingly, Monday at 11 was still the only time she was willing to agree, so I had to re-reschedule about ten patients, and now I’m back to my old awkward plan.)

A Taste For Bad Taste
Doctor/Physician, Home, Malaysia, Silly | Healthy | July 26, 2018
(My family is friends with another family whose dad is an obstetrician/gynaecologist and also a huge joker. In our part of the world, there are sometimes weird pseudo-scientific food fads, including products containing colostrum which is the special milk that comes out just after a mother mammal gives birth — even though cow colostrum isn’t really going to help you unless you’re a calf. At a party, someone shows up with some of these “health” products:)

Friend: “Look, I brought these colostrum biscuits.”

Obstetrician: *takes one and munches on it* “Hmm, doesn’t taste like colostrum.”

That Explains The White Gloves
Detroit, Hospital, Michigan, Patients, Silly, USA | Healthy | July 26, 2018
(I am the strange one in this story. I have just woken up after a colonoscopy and my mind is still a bit fuzzy, but I still don’t know what drove me to do this.)

Doctor: “How do you feel?”

Me: “Are you Mickey Mouse?”

Doctor: “No, I’m not.”

Me: “You’re lying. Hi, Mickey!”

(I feel more awake and realize what I just said.)

Me: “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

Doctor: “That’s okay. That’s not the weirdest thing I’ve heard today.”

The Rest Were Trying In Vein
Australia, Hospital, New South Wales, Patients, Sydney | Healthy | July 25, 2018
(My baby was born with a congenital heart disease and required many cannulas and blood draws in the first four weeks of her life. Nurses would try, and then call upon doctors — neonatologists and consultants — and everyone struggled. They would all talk about how small her veins were and how hard it was when she squirmed and cried as they stuck her over and over. The worst part was, when she had a cannula finally inserted, she’d often rip it out within the next couple of hours. After three open-heart surgeries, her last lots of blood are being taken to give us the all-clear to go home.)

Me: “Just be aware, everyone else who has taken blood has had a lot of trouble.”

Young Phlebotomist: *draws blood efficiently and quickly, first time* “All done.”

Me: “Oh, wow! Everyone else has had such trouble; they keep saying she’s got such small veins.”

Young Phlebotomist: “Of course she has small veins. She’s a baby!”

As If Having Cancer Isn’t Already Bad Enough
Canada, Copy Shop, Jerk, Ontario | Healthy | July 25, 2018
(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!)

Hope You Get Good Reception
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.)

Read The Bloody Chart
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.)

Doctor: “Oh! It definitely should be regular by now; let’s run some blood work.”

Shouldn’t Have Followed The White Rabbit
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.

Pet Owners Are Barking Mad
Bar, Health & Body, Ignoring & Inattentive, Pets & Animals, UK, Weather | Healthy | July 23, 2018
CONTENT WARNING: Animal Abuse

(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.)

Makes You Wish You Could Just Die(late)
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.)

A Very Secure Argument
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.)

Waiting For Cancer
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.

Hopefully You Have A Good Vinyl Collection
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!)

Has Been Trying In Vein
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.)

Did You Write This With Your Feet?
Costa Rica, Doctor/Physician, Medical Office, Wordplay | 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.’”

(Penmanship is important, kids!)

Filling In Her Memory
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.)

A Good Comeback Helps The Medicine Go Down
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.)

Their Brain Is In Another Box
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.”

A Lack Of Blood To Their Brain
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.)

Sick Burn, Bro!
Doctor/Physician, Germany, Health & Body, Home, Siblings, Stupid | 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.)

OMG-YN
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!”

(He’s still my doctor a dozen years later.)

When Patients Need Patience
Bad Behavior, California, Hospital, Jerk, Los Angeles, Nurses, Patients, Time, USA | Healthy | July 8, 2018
(I am in the waiting room of an OBGYN office I’ve never been to before. It is the only one in the area that is in my HMO insurance network. It’s late morning; appointments are not meant to be longer than 20 minutes, so I am planning to attend classes afterwards. When I walk in, I’m told that there is an extremely long wait time, even though we all have timed appointments — and are actually meant to be seen at that time. Though every hospital and office in this entire HMO company has a policy that if a patient checks in more than 15 minutes late they lose their appointment, obviously no equal rules have ever applied to providers being penalized for lateness. I have waited an hour already. Another patient, who is waiting for the same doctor, is sitting next to me with her newborn baby.)

Patient: “Oh, yeah. It’s aaaaalways been this way in this office for as long as I’ve been coming here. They’re aaaaalways extremely behind schedule.”

(This is not reassuring; since she’s got a baby, one can assume she’s been a patient with frequent appointments here for at least nine months.)

Patient: “Yeah, that’s why I’ve always made sure to get the very first appointment super-early in the morning. That’s absolutely the only way to get out of here on time. I just couldn’t manage it today. Oh, but don’t worry; I’ll be super-quick with my appointment, only five minutes. So you all won’t have to wait too much longer!”

(It’s nice of her, but we’re all already extremely late, anyway. I’m pretty appalled that a woman with a newborn is being made to wait around like this for well over an hour; luckily, her baby keeps on sleeping. I also wonder, if this office always runs severely late, why don’t they at least warn patients when we make our appointments? Many patients go up to ask the nurses several times what is going on with the excessive wait time. From overhearing them, it becomes clear that at least half a dozen of them are waiting for the same doctor I am, who appears to be the main cause of waiting-room congestion. The nurses seem extremely practiced at politely fobbing us off while giving non-answers about why this is happening or how much longer it’ll be, as well as pretending to be helpless and confused themselves, while giving off the heavy impression that this is actually all “business as usual.” I’m extremely unhappy; there is no end to the wait in sight, and it’s clear I’ll miss my classes. In other circumstances I’d just leave, but I am there because of suspicion of a uterine tumor and absolutely need to have tests done. Most people resign themselves to waiting, except for one young woman, who checked in 20 minutes after me, and keeps on whining to the nurses over and over. After waiting less than an hour, she starts going towards the exit door in showy slow-motion, while she declares extra loudly to the entire room that she’s leaving since she must get back to her job. I feel extremely skeptical of this, as she is dressed very unprofessionally, even by the standards of the most casual minimum-wage job, and has multiple large, prominent facial piercings.)

Nurse: “Oh, no! No, Ms. [Whiny Patient], don’t leave!”

Whiny Patient: “Oh, I absolutely have to get back to work! There’s no way I can stay here any longer!”

Nurse: “If you wait just a moment, I’ll go right away to ask the doctor if she can accommodate you sooner! Just wait right here!”

(The nurse goes inside the medical office, and comes back within two minutes to call the whiny patient in to be seen by the doctor immediately. I am shocked, as I know this girl was in line behind me, and there’s still at least one other person in front of me, as well. I go up to the nurses again.)

Me: “Excuse me, but I believe that young woman who just went in is seeing the same doctor as me, and several other people here.”

Nurse: “Well, yes, she is in with [Doctor].”

Me: “Did you really just call her in ahead of all of us, including those that were here first?!”

Nurse: “Well, yes. You see, she is in a very great hurry to get back to work. So we just had to see her now. [Doctor] did her a favor and managed to squeeze her in sooner.” *without appearing to realize the actual obvious meaning of that sentence*

Me: “Oh, my God, really?! [Doctor] did her a favor and squeezed her in?! What you’re actually saying is you talked Dr. [Doctor] into seeing her sooner, at all of the rest of our expense, without even consulting us! Neither [Doctor] nor any of you lost anything by doing this! You all just chose to steal several other people’s time for your own convenience of not having to explain the reason behind the patient’s appointment cancellation after she’d already showed up and paid for it! Wow, I wish I’d thought of getting up, whining a lot, and loudly threatening to leave; apparently it would have gotten me seen a lot sooner, too!”

(Even besides me, there were very good odds that some of the other patients also had to get to work — no one was even asked. But we all acted like adults and dealt with it instead of making a loud fuss to skip ahead of others in line. The nurse and doctor just decided that since we didn’t throw up a fuss, it automatically meant our time was worthless compared to [Whiny Patient]’s, and could be taken away from us with no notice. [Whiny Patient]’s appointment was not quick in the least. By the time she left, and then they finished with the other patient ahead of me, I was called in a whopping hour and 42 minutes later than my scheduled appointment time. While [Doctor] seemed likable and competent in person — once I finally got to see her — I couldn’t help questioning both her character and her competency in my head through the entire appointment because of the unprofessional mess with the waiting room. After leaving there, since they’d already ensured I would fully miss all my classes that day, I went straight up a couple of floors in the hospital, to the Member Services department– where they saw me very promptly, even with no appointment — and submitted a complaint face-to-face with a nice, attentive employee who typed up everything I told him. I made sure to tell him every detail, including the 1:40 wait time and the long-time patient who told me that the OBGYN office always operates this way. It’s been several years, and I have never gone back to that office.)

Initially Brilliant
Friends, Home, Norway, Patients, Silly | Healthy | July 7, 2018
(A close friend of mine is visiting me for dinner. She has leukemia, but is in remission at this point. It should probably be noted that we share a pretty dark sense of humor, which is how we both cope with her illness.)

Me: “What have you been doing lately?”

Friend: “I had tests at [Only Major Hospital in the area] this week.”

Me: “Oh, that sucks. I was there with mom when she had tests done a few years back, and the wait was horrible. There’s always so many people!”

Friend: “Oh, I got seen pretty quickly.”

Me: “Did you get there early, or was it good timing?”

Friend: “No, I just put [Initials] in the top corner of the admission forms, and they took me right in.”

Me: “What do they mean?”

Friend: “It’s the shorthand code for ‘to be seen immediately.’ My doctors used it all the time. I just put it in myself, now.”

Me: *laughing* “I knew you were wicked! You’re skipping the line in the hospital?”

Friend: *also laughing* “Hey, I have cancer! And also better things to do with my time than wait in line.”

(Unfortunately, her cancer returned, twice, and she lost the battle against it several years ago. But stories like this one still make me laugh when I tell people about her.)

How Dare You Stop To Eat?!
Illinois, Instant Karma, Jerk, Patients, Pharmacy, USA | Healthy | July 6, 2018
(I go to the pharmacy department of a larger than normal location of a major retailer. It’s about 2:25 pm, and the gates to the pharmacy counter are down with a sign apologizing for being closed for lunch. There are about four people ahead of me in line. Though I am in a hurry, I decide to stay since the sign states that they will reopen in five minutes. Four minutes later, the gates reopen, and the pharmacist is at the counter alone, since her support staff hasn’t returned yet. She greets the first man in line.)

Pharmacist: “Thank you for waiting. How may I help you, sir?”

Man: “I’m here to pick up my prescription, under [Man].”

(The pharmacist verifies personal information with the man.)

Man: *as the pharmacist is ringing up the order* “I had to wait ten minutes for you guys to open! It’s just ridiculous that—”

Pharmacist: *cutting the man off, in a tone that is both mockingly concerned, and professional* “Yes, sir, it is ridiculous that I have to work a ten-hour shift, and am only allowed twenty minutes to sit down and eat in the back of this store. I’m so sorry that you had to wait that short amount of time. Your total is [amount].”

(The man said nothing further, refused to make eye contact with anyone, paid, and left. By then, her staff had returned, and the pharmacist went to the back of the work area, immediately answering the phone. The staff made short work of the rest of the people in line, who all were friendly to the workers. I was out the door before 2:40 pm.)

Got The Baby Blues
Bad Behavior, Emergency Services, Ignoring & Inattentive, UK, Wales | Healthy | July 6, 2018
(A few years ago, my brother worked in a 999 call centre, and he told us about a conversation that went roughly like this.)

Woman: “I was bathing my baby and she turned blue.”

Brother: “Where is your baby now?”

Woman: “Up in the bath.”

Brother: “On her own?”

Woman: “Yes.”

How To Treat Dog-Breath
Canada, Ontario, Pharmacy, Strangers, Stupid, Toronto | Healthy | July 6, 2018
(I am a veterinary technician and sometimes I leave work still wearing scrubs.)

Cashier: “So, you work at the dental office in this plaza, right?”

Me: “Nope, I’m a veterinary technician. I work at the vet clinic over there.” *gesturing*

Other Customer: “What’s that?”

Me: “I’m a nurse for animals.”

Other Customer: “Oh. There’s this mouth-wash I’ve been meaning to try. The stuff from [Human Brand]. Can you tell me if it’s any good?”

Me: “Um… I’m a veterinary technician. I nurse animals.”

Other Customer: “It’s all the same. So, can you tell me if the mouthwash is any good?”

Some People Don’t Deserve Dogs
Bad Behavior, Pennsylvania, Pets & Animals, USA, Vet | Healthy | July 5, 2018
(I recently started working as a veterinarian at a clinic. We have one client who has become infamous for not giving his dog the sedative medications we recommended to help keep him comfortable during his visits. His anxiety at the office is so bad, we requested two different medications be used together, though often neither are given. As a result, whenever we have to do anything with the dog, we require the owner to place a muzzle on him, and our technicians have to wrestle with the dog while he is crying out in fear. We expect the client may get some kind of thrill watching these exchanges. The owner and dog are here for their recheck appointment with me, after choosing to try over the counter medications to try to deal with his dog’s problem. It is only me, the owner, and the dog for the exchange.)

Owner: “I think the skin is doing much better! Before, I couldn’t run my hands down his back, but now I can without a problem.”

Me: “That’s great. Is it true he’s still itching?”

Owner: “Yeah, but the scabs have gone away, except for one like this one on his side.”

(He show me one small scab. When I try to touch it, the dog barks and jerks in fear. The owner smirks a bit.)

Me: “Well, that’s good that the scabs have healed, but we’re still left with what to do about the itching. Our options are—”

Owner: *interrupting* “I know, I know, but look how much better it is! Isn’t the belly so much better?” *picks up terrified dog to show me his abdomen, freaking the dog out further*

Me: “It may be, but I can’t touch your dog to see how the skin is really doing.”

(This seems to really annoy the client.)

Owner: “Yeah, you can! I’ll just hold him really tight!”

Me: “But your dog is terrified, and that is not the type of relationship I want with your dog. That is why we want him to be on those medications when he comes in. That way, he can be more comfortable, and I can reward him with treats when he behaves well.”

Owner: “No, really it’s fine!” *hook his arms around the dog to hold him, further scaring the dog* “Here! Doesn’t the belly look so much better?” *lifts the dog again*

Me: “Yes, the belly looks better from what I can see, but I can’t touch him. I’m not going to foster that kind of relationship with your dog. We have two options. Either I can take him in the back with my techs–” *he had previously behaved better away from his owner* “–or you can come back when your dog has had his medications.”

(At this, the owner stormed out of the room, walked past the receptionist, and headed out the door. I zeroed out the re-exam fee, as I didn’t expect to charge him for a visual exam only, and put in a note about our interaction. I just hope he will start giving his dog the medications, rather than trying to force his dog into fearful situations.)

They Need New Glasses As Well As Their Drugs
Dallas, Ignoring & Inattentive, Patients, Pharmacy, Texas, USA | Healthy | July 5, 2018
(I pull into a drive-thru pharmacy to pick up my prescription, and there’s just one car in front of me. It’s ten full minutes before the car in front of me drives off and I can pull up to the window, but I’m not in a hurry, so I don’t really mind.)

Me: “I’m picking up a prescription for [My Last Name].”

Pharmacist: “Okay, let me just pull that up.”

(She’s gone for a few minutes, and I’m starting to think that this is why the line was slow. Obviously, I think, they must have new people there who don’t know what they’re doing. When she comes back:)

Pharmacist: “I’m sorry, but I don’t have any filled prescriptions listed under your name.”

Me: “But I got an email saying my prescription was ready.”

Pharmacist: “I don’t know what to say. We have you in our system from about two years ago, but there’s nothing recent.”

Me: “Can you check again? I got the email, so I know it’s ready.”

(The pharmacist is gone even longer this time, and I’m starting to feel pretty righteously indignant.)

Pharmacist: “No, we don’t have anything ready for you.”

Me: “Look, that just doesn’t make sense. I don’t understand how I can have an email from Walgreens right here saying that my prescription is ready, but you guys apparently don’t have it.”

Pharmacist: *blank stare* “Ma’am, this is CVS.”

(I felt like such a complete moron that I just drove away in embarrassment. Pharmacist, if you’re out there, I’m really sorry I didn’t apologize!)

The “Collapse” Of The Drug Trade
Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Illinois, Jerk, Nurses, USA | Healthy | July 4, 2018
(I am working at a retail chain one night. While helping pick up empty pallets around the store, I pass out for no discernible reason, completely losing consciousness and only waking up briefly at the store to EMTs loading me into an ambulance. Strangely, I remember the rest of the events pretty clearly.)

Me: “No, no ambulance. I don’t want to go to the hospital; I don’t have money.”

EMT: “You have to go.”

Me: *trying to sit up and move away* “No, I’m fine. I don’t want to go to the hospital.”

(I lose consciousness again after that and wake up in the actual hospital room to a nurse taking my vitals.)

Me: *still groggy* “Um… Where am I? What happened?”

Nurse: “You’re in the hospital. What drugs did you take?”

Me: “Huh? I’m not on any medicine.”

Nurse: “No, what drugs did you take?”

Me: “None?”

Nurse: “Come on. You’re not in trouble; just tell me what drugs you’re on.”

Me: “I’m not on any drugs!”

(The nurse just gave me side-eye and left at that point, only to return with a doctor a few minutes later.)

Nurse: “Okay, you need to tell us what drugs you’re on.”

Me: *having recovered enough now to be (mostly) sensible* “I told you: I’m not on any drugs! I’m fine; I’d like to go now.”

Nurse: “You can’t leave until you tell us what drugs you’re on. Just tell us what you took and you can go.”

Me: “I’m. Not. On. Drugs. I don’t even know what happened!”

Doctor: “If you tell us what drugs you’re on, we can help you.”

Me: *out of patience* “I’m not on drugs! Why are you not listening?”

(Fortunately, my friend from work came in and did her best to assure the staff that, no, I was not on drugs. They finally ran some tests and let me leave, but I don’t think they ever believed I wasn’t on something. Seriously, I get you have to ask, but there has to be a limit. Plus, you HAVE my blood.)