IOU One IUD, Part 2
Criminal & Illegal, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Jerk, Maryland, USA | Healthy | January 25, 2018
(I go to a family doctor, meaning she’s qualified to treat children and adults, so she’s been seeing me since I was 12. I’m 18 at the time of the story. This conversation takes place during my annual check-up.)

Me: “Can you write me a referral to the gynecologist? I want to get an IUD.”

Doctor: “What? Why do you need an IUD? You said on the forms that you’re not sexually active.”

Me: “Well, I’m not yet, but I’m leaving for college, and I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

Doctor: “No. No, you’re too young for birth control.”

Me: “Excuse me? I’m eighteen.”

Doctor: “And you’re not married. You’re too young for birth control, and besides, if you have an IUD and you get pregnant, chances are you’d miscarry when you had it removed.”

Me: “Being married doesn’t have anything to do with it, and if I got pregnant while on birth control, it’s not like I’d want to carry the pregnancy to term, anyway. And isn’t the chance of getting pregnant with an IUD, like, less than one percent?”

Doctor: “It doesn’t matter; I won’t write you a referral. Does your mother know you’re planning this? I need to speak to your mother.”

Me: “Hang on. I am eighteen years old—”

(She walks out of the office and into the waiting room and gets my mother. My mom comes into the exam room and listens to her, while I protest.)

Mom: “Um… [Doctor], you do realize you just committed a pretty major HIPPA violation, right? She’s eighteen, and legally an adult. She’s allowed to make these choices herself.”

Doctor: “Well! I am not writing this referral for a young girl to be given an IUD!”

Me: “Fine! I’ll figure it out myself!”

(My mom helped me get an appointment with a gynecologist — which my insurance allows me to do, but the way the system is set up, for non-emergencies it’s much easier to get an appointment if your GP gives you a referral first — and we filed a complaint with the hospital against the doctor. She was an older woman, and apparently this wasn’t the first time she’d tried to push her own agenda on a patient, but it was the first time she’d disclosed medical information without someone’s consent, so she was “encouraged to retire” and no longer practices medicine.)

IOU One IUD
Bad Behavior, Doctor/Physician, Health & Body, Maine, Nurses, USA | Working | September 8, 2017
(I’m at the doctor’s office with my mother and five-month-old daughter. Due to having my daughter prematurely, then battling an illness, an infection, and an open wound for two months, I’m finally able to talk to my doctor about how I have healed after my c-section, along with birth control.)

Me: “You sure about this, Mom?”

Mom: “Yes, I had one, and it worked beautifully.”

Me: “I just don’t know…”

Nurse: *walks in*

Me: “I’m a bit nervous to get a IUD.”

Nurse: “Oh, you don’t want that.”

Me: “…I don’t?”

Nurse: “No, those things are hell. They hurt, they ruin your uterus, and they can cause you to lose it. Oh, and they can embed themselves and requires surgery to be removed.”

Me: “W-What?!”

Mom: “Hey!”

Nurse: “Besides, you’re breastfeeding. That’ll keep you from getting pregnant.”

Mom: *dryly* “No… it doesn’t, dear. I got pregnant with my youngest while I was nursing my third child.”

Me: “…No. I want the IUD. And I’m not currently nursing… I don’t produce enough.”

Nurse: “I suggest the pill, or keep your legs shut.” *glares at me*

Me: “Excuse you! For one thing, I don’t do well with pills; I forget them very easily! For another, it doesn’t matter to you what I do with my sex life, let alone what direction my legs go.”

Nurse: “Then get the shot!”

Me: “Um, no. With the shot, I hit up so many negative side effects that it’s just not worth it. May I talk to another nurse?”

Nurse: “No, I’m your nurse. Then just get your tubes tied!”

Me: “No. I am not ready to decide not to have any more children at all at this time, despite being scared to have another. It doesn’t feel right. I want the IUD.”

Nurse: “You do not! I’ll put you down for the shot.” *leaves the room*

Me: “No! Mom!”

Mom: “Here. Take your baby. I have an a** to beat.” *leaves the room*

(I sit in the room for only a few minutes, holding and feeding my daughter, when I hear my mother yelling at another nurse. At this point, I can only assume it is the same one. While that is going on, and my daughter has drained her bottle, my doctor walks in.)

Doctor: “I assume that is your mother.”

Me: “Good call.”

Doctor: “Wow! She is big! Healthy little girl. May I?”

Me: “Absolutely!”

Doctor: *holding my daughter* “All right. I see here you want the shot? I thought we agreed on the IUD?”

Me: “We did… apparently the nurse was hell-bent on not letting me get it. She was more than rude, not taking no for an answer, and she scared me with the side effects.”

Doctor: “The side effects really don’t happen often. I’ve yet to see them myself to be honest. I think it’s the best choice for you. Let me go get a different nurse, and we’ll insert the IUD. Here’s your baby. She’s beautiful, and a miracle.”

(I got my IUD, and the nurse wound up fired. Apparently this wasn’t the first time. Nor was it the first time my mother went after a nurse during this whole ordeal. It’s been over a year, and no terrible side effects yet!)

It’s Written In Clear White And White
Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Medical Office, Silly, The Netherlands | Healthy | January 25, 2018
(I’m 15 years old. I’m at my general practitioner, because I noticed I’ve been having trouble with my eyesight.)

Me: “I can see quite all right with my left eye, but when I only use my right eye, I notice a clear difference in brightness.”

Doctor: “Hmm, let’s see. Could you cover your left eye?”

(The doctor walks to a board with letters and starts pointing at them.)

Me: “B… C… F… X…”

(The doctor goes to the smaller letters, which are more difficult to read. But at some point, I’m totally unable to see where he is pointing.)

Doctor: “This one, please.”

Me: *no verbal reaction*

Doctor: “Hello? [My Name]! This one! Can you read it?”

Me: “I can’t see what letter you are pointing at.”

Doctor: “Oh, wait. Maybe I shouldn’t use a white pen on a white background for this.”

Getting To The Root Of The Issue
Denmark, Dentist, Parents/Guardians, Stupid | Healthy | January 24, 2018
(My dad’s a dentist and I am at his office to pick him up after work because his car is in the shop. His last patient for the day is a little boy of about seven, and the moment I get in I can hear the parents yelling at him.)

Mother: “What do you mean his teeth are rotten?! They can’t be!”

My Dad: “Madam, your son has an extreme case of tooth decay, which is why he’s been having terrible tooth pains. I can possibly mend some of them, but he’ll probably have to have the majority of them pulled.”

Mother: “I can’t believe this. How could this happen?”

My Dad: “Well, does he eat a lot of candy?”

Mother: “He doesn’t eat sugar.”

My Dad: “Do you give him anything at night?”

Mother: “Yes, we give him honey.”

(They got super angry with my dad when he told them that was why their kid had bad teeth.)

At Least It’s Still Just A Penny For Your Thoughts
Money, Overheard, Pennsylvania, Pharmacy, USA | Healthy | January 24, 2018
(I am in line waiting to pick up a prescription. The customer at the register is taking longer than usual. The worker tells him to step to the side while they try to sort out the problem. I overhear this between the man who is picking up the prescription and his friend.)

Friend: “It’s only three dollars.”

Man: “I ain’t got that kind of money. Do you know anybody with that kind of money? These is crazy times we live in.”

What A Diabeetus, Part 3
Colorado, Health & Body, Hospital, USA | Healthy | January 23, 2018
(I work in the kitchen of a small hospital. I go to each room and take the patients’ orders for their meals. One new patient is a woman who is on a diabetic diet.)

Patient: *after ordering a huge meal, including iced tea with “a crapload of sugar”* “…and can my brother order something, too?”

Me: “Sure. It’s $5.40 for a guest tray, and you can order whatever you want.”

Patient: “Wait, you mean he can get all the food he wants for $5.40? Holy crap! This is the best hospital ever.”

(The patient’s brother orders a large meal, including a diet soda.)

Me: “All right. Now, since you’re on a diabetic diet, we’ll probably have to cut some of this out, because the rules say we can only give you so many carbs.”

Patient: “Whatever. I eat what I want.”

Me: “Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”

(We end up sending her about half of what she ordered, and using artificial sweetener instead of sugar.)

Patient: *calling back after getting her food* “Um, I didn’t get all my food.”

Me: “Since you’re on a diabetic diet, we can only send you that much. Sorry.”

Patient: “Well, my brother didn’t get what he ordered, either. He was supposed to get…” *she proceeds to list the things she didn’t get*

Me: *after a bit of futilely trying to reason with her* “All right. I can bring a little more food to him.”

(The cook lets me bring some more food to the brother.)

Me: “I’d like to see him put sugar in his diet soda.”

What A Diabeetus, Part 2
Bad Behavior, Grocery Store, Harassment, Ignoring & Inattentive, New Jersey, USA, Wild & Unruly | Right | November 6, 2017
(A customer is getting her money out of her bag. I had put in a low blood-sugar reading in my insulin pump a couple minutes earlier, and it always beeps to remind me to check it again. It beeps, and I unclip it from my waist and turn the screen on. The customer looks up and her eyes go wide.)

Customer: “Of course!”

Me: “What’s the matter?”

Customer: “This is the reason I hate this store! They hire teenagers that look at their phones all the time! They don’t even care about the customers.”

Me: “What? Oh! This isn’t a phone, ma’am.” *presses “okay” and clips it back to my waist*

Customer: “Yes, it is! Give it to me so I can report you to your manager!”

Me: “One, it’s not a phone. Two, I can’t take it off because it’s an insulin pump. I have type-one diabetes.” *shows her my medical alert bracelet* “My manager knows this.”

Customer: “You don’t have diabetes! You’re not obese!”

Me: *tries to resist the urge to face-palm* “Ma’am, I have type-one. The one you’re thinking about is type-two. Please give me the money and leave.”

Customer: “No!” *reaches for my pump, which has a tube that connects to something on my stomach*

Me: *calmly* “Please leave.”

(The customer once again reaches for my pump, and pulls it off my pants. She pulls it forward and realizes there’s a tube on it.)

Customer: “How do you disconnect the charger?”

Me: “That isn’t a charger wire, ma’am. It’s a tube. You can see it’s clear. Please let go.”

(I reach to take my pump back. The customer pulls it forwards again, and I jerk forward. A lot of the time I drop my pump, and it pulls on my stomach. It’s never torn out the thing on my stomach, but this time it’s about to. Luckily, my manager arrives before it does.)

Manager: “Let go of that right now and leave. It’s good that you hate this store, because you’re not coming back.”

(The customer places the pump on the counter and runs to the door, not taking her money or things.)

Me: “Thanks.”

Manager: “Take her money; you deserve it. I’ll put her stuff back.”

(Suddenly, I heard a beep. My manager was also a diabetic, and also had a low earlier. He pulled out his pump, which looked like mine. I heard a loud scream and the door slamming shut.)

What A Diabeetus
Pharmacy | Right | May 19, 2017
(I am talking to a regular customer, who is looking to lose some weight before her wedding, about a fitness professional I follow on YouTube who posts workouts and meal plans for free to help people. There is a customer next to me who is being helped by my coworker.)

Customer #2 : *to me and [Customer #1 ]* “Are you calling her fat?”

Me: *startled* “No, I am not. We’re just talking about fitness and—”

Customer #2 : “You should love your body. Don’t go telling her to change it to fit YOUR standards!”

Me: “I’m not telling her to—”

Customer #2 : *to [Customer #1 ]* “Don’t you love yourself?”

Customer #1 : “I do; I do. I just want to lose five pounds before my wedding.”

Customer #2 : “No! That’s the media talking! You’re being brainwashed.”

Customer: “No, it’s my doctor talking. I’m all for body positivity but a health professional is telling me to lose weight.”

Customer #2 : “When you die from diabetes, don’t come looking for help then!”

Customer #1 : “I couldn’t because I’d be hypothetically dead.”

(Customer #2 sputtered and walked out without her change.)

A Big Mayo No No, Part 7
Impossible Demands, Refund, Retail, Revolting, USA | Right | September 9, 2021
It’s my last day working the service desk at a big box store. A guest comes up to the desk and I greet him. In response, he says nothing but puts a greeting card covered in mayonnaise on the desk, along with an equally mayo’d receipt, and he keeps the bag away from me and in his hands.

Normally, I wouldn’t take such an obviously ruined return — it clearly didn’t leave the store that way — but some changes to our return policy have tied my hands.

So, I have to hand-key the receipt into the system because the barcode is mayo-y and return the greeting card.

Me: “So, for that, I can credit [amount] back to your credit card.”

He tosses the bag he’s holding onto the counter.

Customer: “What about the broccoli salad? I called last night!”

Inside the bag is a leaking and gross container of broccoli salad that has clearly not been refrigerated since last night. If you’ve ever left mayo out on the counter, you know what it turns into, and that is what I am looking at. I’ve never felt sympathy for drooping broccoli before now.

Customer: “The boy who bagged my stuff last night didn’t do a very good job, and now this is all over my car!”

I seriously doubt that. Our baggers are explicitly trained that food — even bottled, factory-sealed food — goes in separate bags from literally everything else, for just this reason. We supply plastic to-go boxes with lids for all our foods, but anyone can tell at a glance that they’re 1,000 miles away from leak-proof. He would have had to bag it this way himself, or he would have had to take the greeting card out of its bag and shove it in with his broccoli salad for this to have happened.

All he lets me get out is:

Me: “Oh—”

Customer: “Yes, ‘Oh.’ What are you going to do about my car?”

I try not to imply that he is an idiot with my tone.

Me: “Well, I can return the salad for you, but there is nothing we can do about your car.”

He invokes the almighty manager, and once she arrives, he goes into a gigantic spiel about how nobody apologized to him for broccoli salad spilling in his car, how none of the cashiers know how to bag properly, etc.

Then, he turns to me.

Customer: “Nothing personal, but you need to be trained. Show some empathy.”

Manager: “My employee does not owe you an apology. I can see that you’re already being offered your money back for the card and the salad. That’s the extent of what we can do for you.”

Customer: “What about my car?!”

Manager: “Once our products are paid for, it’s no longer our responsibility, and we certainly don’t take responsibility for the way you transported it home.”

Customer: “But I called last night and—”

Manager: “And you would not have gotten a promise that we would pay for cleaning your car, sir. We simply do not do that. You already are getting the full amount back for your items. You may put your card in to get the money back on your card, but this is all that you’re getting back.”

The customer finally realized that he had hit a brick wall and took his refund before leaving, glaring daggers at us both. I’m so glad I moved on to a non-retail field!

A Big Mayo No No, Part 6
Bizarre, Current Events, England, Jerk, Revolting, Sandwich Shop, UK | Right | September 27, 2020
Shops have started to open up after the quarantine, so I treat my family to their first take-away in months. The hype is unbelievable with queues at every store and traffic jams all over the city. It’s like they are giving the food away.

I stop by a walk-in sandwich shop a few days later. Inside, I see two women at the counter who both seem to be in their twenties. As I join the queue, it seems that the first is finished and the second is choosing her salad.

Woman #2 : “No salad.”

Worker: “None at all?”

Woman #2 : *With heaps of attitude* “Uh, no! Mayo! I want mayo on that.”

Worker: “Mayonnaise, okay.”

Woman #2 : “More. More!”

The worker dutifully fills the sandwich with mayonnaise; at this point, it looks more like cake frosting. A thick layer covers nearly all of the meat and cheese. It looks disgusting and I must be staring, as the second woman glares at me.

Woman #2 : “Hey, [Woman #1 ], you want a cookie?”

She glares at me again.

Woman #1 : “Yeah, get me one.”

Woman #2 : *Insincerely* “Oh, no! They only have six left! Oh, well, some people won’t be getting any at all.”

She looks at me like she has won some grand scheme.

Woman #2 : “Give me allll six.”

They leave, cackling. I turn to the other worker to pay, utterly bemused.

Worker: “Did you want a cookie? I have more to put out; we didn’t have a chance yet.”

Me: “Not really, thank you. I’m not sure what that was about.”

Worker: “Oh, they come in quite regularly. The one on the left, [Woman #2 ], scoops the extra mayo out with the cookie and eats it like a dip!”

I got my food and left. I wish I had chosen anything other than mayo.

A Big Mayo No No, Part 5
Employees, England, Fast Food, Stupid, UK | Working | May 17, 2018
(I am running late and don’t have time to make lunch in the morning, so I think I’ll treat myself at a nearby fast food restaurant that has a drive-thru. I pull up to the speaker, and ask for a [chicken sandwich], no mayo.)

Employee: “What mayo was that?”

Me: “No mayo, please.”

Employee: “Hot mayo?”

Me: “No. NO mayonnaise, please. None. No mayo.”

Employee: “So, like, plain?”

Me: “I guess.”

(At the first window, as I pay, I confirm that the sandwich will have all the salad, etc., just no mayo.)

Employee: “Yes, no problem.”

(I’m sceptical. Luckily, there’s nobody immediately behind me when I pull up to the second window to get my food, so I check. Yeah, it’s missing all the salad; it’s literally just a chicken burger in a dry bun. I ask for it to be rectified, and the lady argues with me that I ordered it plain, so it came plain. Eventually a manager comes over,and tells me the same thing. Apparently, it is impossible to order a [chicken sandwich] without mayo but still with the other bits. By now, they’re showing me the ordering system screen, so I can see their predicament. They don’t understand that I don’t care, and all I want is for them to stick their token lettuce, onions, etc., in the thing so I can at least pretend to be vaguely healthy. They go through all the permutations of ordering the [chicken sandwich] until I suggest something.)

Me: “Choose, ‘spicy mayo.’”

(They did it. An option then appeared for “no mayo.” Their system was set up that they had to choose one of the three mayo options — cool, spicy, chilli — to able to remove it. And it took someone who had never seen that system before to work it out.)

A Big Mayo No No, Part 4
Pizza | Right | July 26, 2017
(I work in a pizzeria which has a separate area for takeout and buying pizza by the slice. It’s the mid-afternoon on a Friday and I haven’t had a customer in to buy slices for over an hour. A man and his girlfriend approach my counter, checking over our Buffalo chicken pizza.)

Me: *wiping the table* “Can I help you with anything?”

Girlfriend: “Yeah… um… so, your Buffalo chicken… What’s on it?”

Me: “Chicken, hot sauce, BBQ sauce, blue cheese, and regular cheese.”

(I’ve eaten most things on the menu. I also build pizzas in the back when the pizza toppers are short-staffed. As such, I know what’s on most of the pizzas.)

Girlfriend: “Like… it doesn’t have mayonnaise on it, does it?”

Me: “I’m 100% sure it doesn’t.”

Girlfriend: “Good, ‘cause that sounds gross, and, like, I hate mayonnaise!” *she rants about her dislike of mayonnaise*

Me: “Well… luckily… none of our pizzas have mayonnaise on them. Are you interested in the Buffalo chicken slices?”

Girlfriend: “Nah, I don’t eat cheese. I just wanted to ask about the mayonnaise.”

(They turn around and head out the door.)

Me: “Have a nice day…”

(My coworker was restocking our fridge with pop and juice, and heard the entire thing.)

Coworker: “Did that just happen?”

Me: “Yup… and it’s only the afternoon… I’m here over dinner.”

Coworker: “It’s going to be a long day.”

A Big Mayo No No, Part 3
Fast Food, Restaurant | Right | January 6, 2016
(A customer with a thick accent approaches the counter.)

Customer: “Do you have margarine-aise?”

Me: “Margarine?”

Customer: “No, margarine-aise.”

Me: “Mayonnaise?”

Customer: “No, margarine-aise.”

Me: “I’m sorry, what is it you want?”

Customer: *now angry* “You no listen? Margarine-aise.”

Me: “Mayonnaise?”

Customer: “Yes.”

A Big Mayo No No, Part 2
Catering | Right | October 6, 2015
(I’m handing out boxed lunches at a construction site. A customer walks up.)

Customer: “How does this work?” *holds up a mayo packet*

Me: “Rip it open a little bit and squeeze it.”

Customer: *blank stare*

Me: “Tear the corner.”

Customer: *Blank stare*

Me: “Here, I’ll do it for you.”

(I tear off the corner and give it to him. The customer then bends over and holds the mayo packet in his hand the way you would a can of soda. It’s also upside down – so before I can say anything, he squeezes as hard as he can and sprays the mayo in his face.)

Customer: “HEY! This thing didn’t work!”

Me: “You held it upside down, sir.” *I hold out a napkin but he just glares*

Customer: “Your fault! Your mayo packet was broken!”

(I honestly wish he did that with a mustard packet…)

A Big Mayo No No
Restaurant | Right | August 14, 2015
(I am pregnant, and I find my brain occasionally ceases functioning. I often find myself at a loss for words. One night, while picking up dinner at a popular submarine sandwich shop, I confidently asked the young man making my sandwich for ‘brown mayonnaise.’)

Employee: “Excuse me?”

Me: “Brown mayonnaise?”

Employee: “I… but… brown? Mayonnaise?”

Me: “Yes, please! Just a little bit, though.”

Employee: “I’m just so sorry, but I’ve never heard of brown mayonnaise, and we definitely don’t have any. I have regular mayonnaise, light mayonnaise, yellow mustard, brow… oh!” *grabs his bottle of brown mustard and offers it to me just as my brains clicks on*

Me: “Did I seriously just ask you for brown mayonnaise, like, three times? I’m so sorry. Mustard. I definitely meant mustard.”

Employee: “Thank goodness, because brown mayonnaise does not sound good at ALL.”

(I had to agree.)

This Doctor Knows All About “Cold”
Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, UK | Healthy | September 9, 2021
I’m twenty-three and I’m working in the UK for a year. English is not my first language, but I know enough to work in an English-speaking company so it’s not too bad.

One day, while I’m at work, I start feeling bad — fever, sore throat, coughing, etc. Since I am only here for a year, I did not think about registering with a general doctor, so I was not sure where to go to get seen by a doctor. My manager told me about “walk-in centers” where you can go without appointments.

I check out of work, take a taxi, and manage to get to one of these centers. I wait for some time and then get to see a doctor.

I’m kind of shy and new situations can stress me a lot. I’ve never been to a doctor on my own at this point since my parents always had to drive me to the doctor’s office, and I had the same doctor from the time I was born.

I enter the doctor’s room. He barely looks at me and does not invite me to take a seat or anything.

Doctor: “What’s your problem?”

Me: “I feel like I have a fever and I feel pain in my throat.”

Doctor: “Okay, well, that’s a cold. What do you want me to do?”

I’m kind of shocked. In similar cases, my doctor always did the basic tests, like looking at my throat, measuring my temperature, making me breathe, etc. I try to insist.

Me: “Well, I just wanted to be sure it was just a cold.”

Doctor: “What could it be other than a cold?”

I’m thinking, “You’re the doctor; you’re the one supposed to know.” I try proposing an illness without knowing the English name — “angine” in French, which in English is called “Tonsillitis”.

Me: “Well, I really don’t know… It could be an angina? I’m sorry, I’m not sure of the English name.”

Doctor: “Nope, angina is a cardiac illness.”

Me: “Well, like I said, I’m not sure of what it’s called in English.”

He does not try to understand or do any tests. He just asks for my age and then says, in a very condescending way:

Doctor: “Well, you’re twenty-three years old and you never dealt with a cold before? Just get some paracetamol for three weeks. Goodbye.”

I went out of the center, and I almost cried out of stress and anger. I went home and called my parents, who helped me think and told me to go to a pharmacy to get a syrup for my throat. The syrup helped a lot — the weekend, too — and I recovered quickly.

I know this was a free consultation, I know doctors don’t have a lot of time allowed per patient, and I know the NHS has budget issues. But I was sick, living on my own in a foreign country, and just wanted to get something for the pain and to be reassured that it was just a cold.

Time To Retire Her File
Assisted Living, Belgium, Nurses, Stupid | Healthy | February 6, 2018
(I am in the retirement home where my mother has spent her last years, doing some paperwork with the clerk. A nurse comes into the office, and the clerk introduces me:)

Clerk: “Meet Mrs. [My Name]’s daughter.”

Nurse: *very cheerily* “Oh, yes! Mrs. [My Name] is doing great; no problems!”

Me: “No doubt about it! She was cremated yesterday.”

(The nurse slunk away silently.)

Stop And Think For A Period
Hobart, Ignoring & Inattentive, Pharmacy, Tasmania | Healthy | February 5, 2018
(In Australia, purchasing certain medications requires the cashier, by law, to ascertain for whom the medication is intended and whether or not they’ve used the medication before. It’s about half an hour before closing time and it’s been a busy day, so I’m running on autopilot, when a man comes up to the counter.)

Male Customer: “Can I have some [period pain medication], please?”

Me: “Sure. That’s just for yourself, and you’ve used it before?”

I Never Meant To Cause You Trouble
Hospital, Nurses, UK | Healthy | February 4, 2018
(Due to some weird allergic reactions, I’ve been sent to have a blood test done. As I enter the phlebotomist’s room, Coldplay’s “Yellow” is playing on a small radio.)

Nurse: “Now, how are you with needles?”

Me: “They’re not my favourite thing, but I’m okay with them. Never had any problems before.”

(They get me set up with the needle in my arm, and everything’s okay at first, but after about a minute I start to feel woozy, nauseated, and sweaty, and my hearing fades out. “Yellow” has been replaced with a staticky noise. I try to communicate this to the nurse, but something gets lost on the way to my mouth.)

Me: *flaps hand at nurse* “Chris Martin went grey! Gonna blarf…”

(I vomit in my lap and then faint. When I wake up, I’m wearing a blood pressure cuff and someone’s fetched my mum from the waiting area.)

Nurse: “Wow, I’ve had people freak out before, but you’re the first one who’s fainted! By the way, who’s Chris Martin?”

Me: “Huh?”

Nurse: “You were talking about him, said he went grey or something? It seemed pretty urgent.”

Me: “No idea.”

(Chris Martin is the lead singer of Coldplay, a band which I’m fairly ambivalent about. Apparently, my brain is better at remembering music trivia when starved of oxygen and shutting down!)

Cardiac Arrested Development
Bad Behavior, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Nurses, Stupid | Healthy | February 3, 2018
(I am on the evening shift at a specialized cancer ward. I come out from a room and bump into one of my colleagues. This woman is older than I am and, I assume, far more experienced than I am, although I have racked up a fair amount of experience myself at this point. My colleague looks decidedly puzzled.)

Me: “Is something wrong?”

Colleague: “It’s so strange. The patient in [Room] is so unresponsive. And I don’t know what to do about this. She was turning blue and seemed to have trouble breathing!”

(This was delivered almost frustratingly slow. She started to describe just HOW the patient was using her whole torso to draw air into her lungs, but I ran past her into the patient’s room. She’d had a cardiac arrest! I pressed the alarm and, miracle of miracles, we managed to resuscitate her through sheer stubbornness and hard work. We were overjoyed with the resuscitation, but we all had some choice words with the head nurse about our colleague! I never saw her working there again after that.)

The Bank Wants Your Money And Your Blood
Bank, Emergency Services, Health & Body, Non-Dialogue, USA, West Virginia | Healthy | February 12, 2018
I work as a bank teller. One morning a customer walks in, and I notice that he is both extremely pale and has a rasping cough as he approaches me to make a withdrawal. Just as I grab his money and begin to count it out in front of him, to my horror, he suddenly turns his head to the side, coughs violently, then begins to vomit a large amount of blood.

My coworkers quickly move to get the customer a chair to sit in as I call 911. During the commotion, an apparent acquaintance of the customer rushes in and helps hold him upright to walk him to the chair

Less than five minutes later, an ambulance arrives and takes the customer away. We learn the acquaintance is actually the customer’s neighbor. The customer had been feeling very unwell the last few days, and the neighbor had agreed to take him to the hospital, but he wanted to stop at the bank first to make sure he had some cash on hand if necessary. We block off my teller station and call in professional cleaners to come and clean up the potentially hazardous blood.

A few months later, I am working at my usual station again when I call for the next in line and suddenly realize I am talking to this same customer. I almost don’t recognize him, as he has much more color to his face and appears to have put on some necessary weight. He also recognizes me, and apologizes again for the incident. It turns out the pain he was experiencing was from his appendix, which actually ruptured as I was waiting on him. He says that the doctors have now given him a clean bill of health, and then he leaves, after jumping up and down a few times to show how much his health has improved.

Your Mouth Is A Pest
Dentist, New York, Silly, USA | Healthy | February 11, 2018
(I’m getting my teeth cleaned when the dental hygienist strikes up the following conversation.)

Hygienist: “How was your weekend?”

Me: “Well, I had to work Saturday, but Sunday was okay.”

Hygienist: “Do you always work six-day weeks?”

Me: “I work every other Saturday.”

Hygienist: “What do you do?”

Me: “I do pest control.”

Hygienist: “Ooh! I couldn’t do that! That’s just… yuck!”

Me: “Well, you stick your fingers in other people’s’ mouths all day.”

Hygienist: “Oh. Yeah.”

You’re Not In Good Shape
Bizarre, Dentist, Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, USA | Healthy | February 10, 2018
(I am at the dentist’s for a general cleaning, with a hygienist I haven’t been with before. Things are going normally until this happens.)

Hygienist: “Oh, wow. Wow. This is really unusual.”

Me: “Is… Is something wrong?”

Hygienist: “Let me get the dentist. I have never seen this before.”

(By now, I am panicking in the chair a little. The hygienist leaves, then comes back with the dentist, and they both look into my mouth.)

Hygienist: “Look at her uvula. Isn’t it a weird shape? I’ve never seen that before.”

Dentist: “It just has a bit of an indent in the middle.”

Hygienist: “Her uvula looks so weird. I’ve never seen that before.”

Dentist: “All right, [Hygienist], you can go now. I can finish up this cleaning.”

(The dentist told me it was nothing to worry about and barely noticeable, then finished the cleaning without issue. No dentist or hygienist had ever told me I had a weird uvula before.)

Not Applying Any Military Intelligence
Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Medical Office, Military, USA | Healthy | February 9, 2018
(My military career has me outdoors most of the time, usually in very hot and sunny places. Several years later, I develop a rough patch on my face and am referred to a specialist who listens to my history and diagnoses a precancerous lesion. He recommends that it be removed right away, during this visit, and I agree. He leaves the exam room, and I overhear him giving instructions to the nurse.)

Nurse: “So, what kind of local do you want for her?”

Doctor: “We can do this without it.”

Nurse: “Without anesthetic? Are you sure?”

Doctor: “She was a Marine. She can take it.”

(Gee, thanks, Doc!)

A (Gentle) Giant Difference Between Them
Children, Medical Office, Missouri, Nurses, Siblings, St Louis, USA | Healthy | February 8, 2018
(My younger sister and brother are due to get their polio vaccinations. Despite being two years younger than her, my brother is several inches taller and 40 pounds heavier than our sister. But, as she’s older, she gets to go first.)

Mom: “She has a fear of shots, just to warn you.”

Nurse: “Oh, that’s no problem. I know nobody likes shots.” *turns to my sister* “Now, I’m just going to clean the skin on your leg for the shot.”

Sister: “It’s cold!”

Nurse: “Yes, it is. But it will warm up again in a minute. Now, you’re just going to feel a pinch…”

(My sister sees the needle and flips out, screaming, crying, and flailing. She even manages to kick the nurse in the face before my mom is able to hold her down.)

Nurse: *finally gets the shot in* “I’m sorry, sweetie. I know that hurt. I promise, if you relax, shots don’t hurt so much. Would you like a sucker?”

(My sister won’t stop crying; she’s in full panic mode.)

Me: “Mom, if you want, I can take [Brother] to another room and help him get his shot.”

Mom: *still trying to control my sister* “Please, do.”

(I gather up my hefty little brother and follow the nurse to the exam room next door.)

Nurse: “Go ahead and put him on the table, please.”

Me: “Sure thing. Here you go, buddy! You doing okay?”

Brother: “Yeah.” *with the implication of “why shouldn’t I be?”*

(The nurse looks him over, and then leaves without a word. A few minutes later, she comes back in with not one, but three orderlies, all strong-looking men, to hold my brother down. One orderly stands behind him and holds his arms around my brother’s arms and torso, while the other two each secure a leg.)

Me: “He’s not going to go crazy like [Sister] did. He’s our gentle giant, I swear.”

(The nurse ignores me, cleans his leg, and then counts to three for his shot.)

Brother: *frowns* “Ow.”

Nurse: *stunned* “Ow?”

Brother: “That hurt. Can I have a sucker, now?”

(He didn’t so much as twitch, and he accepted his treat with a smile. [Sister] was still crying a river, and didn’t stop until we were halfway home.)

Making You Go Psycho
England, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, London, UK | Healthy | February 7, 2018
(I have a psychologist assigned to me at my hospital, where I am a frequent visitor and inpatient due to a chronic illness. She’s not very good at her job, at least when it comes to me; every conversation I have with her ends in frustration for me, and a completely warped assessment of my emotional and mental state for my doctor. Eventually, I get tired of it, and ask not to see her anymore, since I think she misunderstands and/or misrepresents my mental health. This is the last conversation I have with her, during a week-long hospitalisation.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but considering that I asked you not to come today, and you came anyway, and once again you haven’t really understood what I’m saying, I’m going to ask the doctors not to send you to me anymore.

Psychologist: “Oh… Well, I still have one more visit planned for the day before you leave.”

Me: “Please cancel it. I appreciate your help, but I just become too frustrated.”

Psychologist: “Well… if you change your mind, please let–

Me: “I’m not going to change my mind.”

Psychologist: “Well, if you do, just tell one of the day nurses and—”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to.”

Psychologist: “Well, just in case you do—”

Me: “I’m not.”

Psychologist: “I know you think that now, but I’ll be here if you want to chat.”

Me: “I promise you, I won’t.”

Psychologist: “Well, if you change your mind…”

(Then, she just stood there smiling. I stared at her in disbelief until she left.)

Time To Retire Her File
Assisted Living, Belgium, Nurses, Stupid | Healthy | February 6, 2018
(I am in the retirement home where my mother has spent her last years, doing some paperwork with the clerk. A nurse comes into the office, and the clerk introduces me:)

Clerk: “Meet Mrs. [My Name]’s daughter.”

Nurse: *very cheerily* “Oh, yes! Mrs. [My Name] is doing great; no problems!”

Me: “No doubt about it! She was cremated yesterday.”

(The nurse slunk away silently.)

Stop And Think For A Period
Hobart, Ignoring & Inattentive, Pharmacy, Tasmania | Healthy | February 5, 2018
(In Australia, purchasing certain medications requires the cashier, by law, to ascertain for whom the medication is intended and whether or not they’ve used the medication before. It’s about half an hour before closing time and it’s been a busy day, so I’m running on autopilot, when a man comes up to the counter.)

Male Customer: “Can I have some [period pain medication], please?”

Me: “Sure. That’s just for yourself, and you’ve used it before

I Never Meant To Cause You Trouble
Hospital, Nurses, UK | Healthy | February 4, 2018
(Due to some weird allergic reactions, I’ve been sent to have a blood test done. As I enter the phlebotomist’s room, Coldplay’s “Yellow” is playing on a small radio.)

Nurse: “Now, how are you with needles?”

Me: “They’re not my favourite thing, but I’m okay with them. Never had any problems before.”

(They get me set up with the needle in my arm, and everything’s okay at first, but after about a minute I start to feel woozy, nauseated, and sweaty, and my hearing fades out. “Yellow” has been replaced with a staticky noise. I try to communicate this to the nurse, but something gets lost on the way to my mouth.)

Me: *flaps hand at nurse* “Chris Martin went grey! Gonna blarf…”

(I vomit in my lap and then faint. When I wake up, I’m wearing a blood pressure cuff and someone’s fetched my mum from the waiting area.)

Nurse: “Wow, I’ve had people freak out before, but you’re the first one who’s fainted! By the way, who’s Chris Martin?”

Me: “Huh?”

Nurse: “You were talking about him, said he went grey or something? It seemed pretty urgent.”

Me: “No idea.”

(Chris Martin is the lead singer of Coldplay, a band which I’m fairly ambivalent about. Apparently, my brain is better at remembering music trivia when starved of oxygen and shutting down!)

Cardiac Arrested Development
Bad Behavior, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Nurses, Stupid | Healthy | February 3, 2018
(I am on the evening shift at a specialized cancer ward. I come out from a room and bump into one of my colleagues. This woman is older than I am and, I assume, far more experienced than I am, although I have racked up a fair amount of experience myself at this point. My colleague looks decidedly puzzled.)

Me: “Is something wrong?”

Colleague: “It’s so strange. The patient in [Room] is so unresponsive. And I don’t know what to do about this. She was turning blue and seemed to have trouble breathing!”

(This was delivered almost frustratingly slow. She started to describe just HOW the patient was using her whole torso to draw air into her lungs, but I ran past her into the patient’s room. She’d had a cardiac arrest! I pressed the alarm and, miracle of miracles, we managed to resuscitate her through sheer stubbornness and hard work. We were overjoyed with the resuscitation, but we all had some choice words with the head nurse about our colleague! I never saw her working there again after that.)

Cause For Pregnant Pause, Part 19
Doctor/Physician, Emergency Services, Ignoring & Inattentive, Iowa, Nurses, USA | Healthy | February 2, 2018
(My husband and I are in the ER, about ten days after I have given birth via C-section, and about five days after I have finally been released from the hospital. Due to pregnancy complications, my husband and I haven’t had sex for several months. I have severe abdominal pain and have been waiting to be seen for several hours. Finally, a doctor comes into the room to check me over. She is holding my chart, on which I mentioned several times that I just had a baby.)

Doctor: “Are you pregnant?”

Me: “No.”

Doctor: “Are you sure? We’re going to run some tests that could be harmful to the baby.”

Me: “I am sure I’m not pregnant.”

Doctor: “How about you take a test just to be sure?”

Me: “I. Just. Had. A. Baby. So, unless you guys missed something when you were cleaning me out two weeks ago, or God decided it’s time for another immaculate conception, I. Am. Not. Pregnant.”

Doctor: “Uh, okay, then.”

(She then sends a nurse in with some painkillers so I can finally get some relief. Two days later, I get a phone call from the hospital.)

Nurse: “I’m sorry, but it looks like one of your samples we took the other night was contaminated. We strongly recommend you take a pregnancy test.”

Me: *facepalm*

Cause For Pregnant Pause, Part 18
At The Checkout, Cashier, Grocery Store, Health & Body, Jerk, Pennsylvania, USA | Working | February 26, 2018
(I’m in my late 20s, but because of my size, I am often mistaken for a teenager. A few months prior to this incident, my husband and I decided to start trying to conceive. I’m very excited and immediately go out and buy a pregnancy test. A few weeks later, the test is negative, and I go to the same store to buy a pack of tests. I am checked out by the same cashier, an older woman. When I approach with the tests, she gives me a disgusted look. The following happens:)

Me: “Hi, how are you today?”

Cashier: “I’m fine… Honey, would you like me to show you where we keep the condoms? They’re not hard to find; they’re in the same aisle as the tests.”

Me: *a little taken aback* “No, thank you.”

(The cashier doesn’t ring out the test. She just looks at me.)

Cashier: “Sweetie, the condoms aren’t too expensive. We have some great options, and it would be a lot better than these constant scares.”

Me: “Oh, it’s not a scare—”

Cashier: *cuts me off* “I saw you a few weeks ago, buying a test. I remember because I said a prayer for you, that you wouldn’t be pregnant.”

Me: *getting angry now* “Well, that’s not a very nice thing to pray for! I want to be pregnant”

Cashier: *looks horrified* “Honey, you don’t want to be pregnant; trust me. You want to finish school, get a job, and find a guy who wants you for more than sex. Make the guy marry you first!”

Me: “Pretty sure this is none of your business, but my husband and I both have well-paying jobs, and a baby would be a blessing. Please ring me out.”

Cashier: “I can’t believe your parents let you get married so young!”

Me: “I’m almost 30. And again, this is none of your business.”

(She finally finished ringing me out, and I had a word with the manager about the incident. He promised to speak to her about it. It’s been two weeks, and when I go back she avoids me like the plague.)

If You Can’t Control It, Own It
Bizarre, Funny, Health & Body, Office, UK | Healthy | September 11, 2021
I am sensitive. By this, I mean that my skin is sensitive, my digestive system is sensitive, my sense of smell is sensitive, and my eyes are sensitive. A strong smell, bright lights, a change of weather, high winds, changing temperatures, pollen — all cause a reaction of some sort. It’s like hay fever, seasonal eczema, and something else all wrapped in one and antihistamines do nada.

I’ve only been working in this office for about a month and I’ve been fairly reaction-free. Then, a change in weather plus the construction site burning something acrid results in my eyes swelling and getting weepy and my skin peeling to the point of bleeding. I’m somewhat irritable due to being so uncomfortable.

Trainer: “You don’t have to tell me — it’s entirely your own business and it clearly doesn’t interfere with your working — but I’m nosy. What do you have that causes these reactions?”

Me: “LBS.”

Trainer: “What’s that?”

Me: “Little B**** Syndrome. My body just reacts to everything that isn’t basic as f***. Doctors don’t know why, so I’ve decided that my body is just an oversensitive little b****.”

This Doctor Knows All About “Cold”
Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, UK | Healthy | September 9, 2021
I’m twenty-three and I’m working in the UK for a year. English is not my first language, but I know enough to work in an English-speaking company so it’s not too bad.

One day, while I’m at work, I start feeling bad — fever, sore throat, coughing, etc. Since I am only here for a year, I did not think about registering with a general doctor, so I was not sure where to go to get seen by a doctor. My manager told me about “walk-in centers” where you can go without appointments.

I check out of work, take a taxi, and manage to get to one of these centers. I wait for some time and then get to see a doctor.

I’m kind of shy and new situations can stress me a lot. I’ve never been to a doctor on my own at this point since my parents always had to drive me to the doctor’s office, and I had the same doctor from the time I was born.

I enter the doctor’s room. He barely looks at me and does not invite me to take a seat or anything.

Doctor: “What’s your problem?”

Me: “I feel like I have a fever and I feel pain in my throat.”

Doctor: “Okay, well, that’s a cold. What do you want me to do?”

I’m kind of shocked. In similar cases, my doctor always did the basic tests, like looking at my throat, measuring my temperature, making me breathe, etc. I try to insist.

Me: “Well, I just wanted to be sure it was just a cold.”

Doctor: “What could it be other than a cold?”

I’m thinking, “You’re the doctor; you’re the one supposed to know.” I try proposing an illness without knowing the English name — “angine” in French, which in English is called “Tonsillitis”.

Me: “Well, I really don’t know… It could be an angina? I’m sorry, I’m not sure of the English name.”

Doctor: “Nope, angina is a cardiac illness.”

Me: “Well, like I said, I’m not sure of what it’s called in English.”

He does not try to understand or do any tests. He just asks for my age and then says, in a very condescending way:

Doctor: “Well, you’re twenty-three years old and you never dealt with a cold before? Just get some paracetamol for three weeks. Goodbye.”

I went out of the center, and I almost cried out of stress and anger. I went home and called my parents, who helped me think and told me to go to a pharmacy to get a syrup for my throat. The syrup helped a lot — the weekend, too — and I recovered quickly.

I know this was a free consultation, I know doctors don’t have a lot of time allowed per patient, and I know the NHS has budget issues. But I was sick, living on my own in a foreign country, and just wanted to get something for the pain and to be reassured that it was just a cold.

Time To Block That Particular Vet
Money, Pets & Animals, South Carolina, USA, Vet | Healthy | September 7, 2021
This takes place during the beginnings of the 2020 health crisis, over a span of three months, from January to March. I have had my cat Linus since he was four months old and got him from a local rescue, meaning he was neutered when I got him. In 2020, he was five years old. I take him to his annual checkups and he has never had any issues.

One day, Linus starts acting funny. He’s making a cry I’ve never heard and looks like he’s searching for something. He keeps pawing at my clothes and a rag that I use for dusting. I watch as he squats in an attempt to pee on the rag. I quickly scoop him up and put him in his litter box. He tries to pee, but hardly anything comes out. I’m worried that he has a UTI, which in neutered males can cause a blockage and, as I found out later, they only have about seventy-two hours before they die if they are blocked.

I call my vet and explain what is happening to set up an appointment. I talk to a woman on the phone who I assume is a vet.

Vet: “If he is blocked, then there is nothing we can do except refer him to the ER where they can treat him. You should just go to the ER instead of wasting your money to come to us first and then to the ER.”

I do this, not knowing this will be the first act of many stressful moments over this three-month time period.

At the ER, they take a look at him and say that he is not blocked but simply has a UTI. They give me three or four types of medication (ranging from pill to liquid) and send me on my way. This first visit is about $200 to $300. After following the instructions carefully and fighting my bratty baby, he seems to get better. I keep an eye on his litter box, and while his urine clumps aren’t normal-sized, he seems to be peeing again.

One morning, I notice Linus is having trouble peeing again. I leave for work, but since I’m concerned, I leave early to take him to the ER again. They check him again, and again they say that he’s not blocked, just a UTI. The vet also tells me he possibly has FLUTD (Feline Lower Urinary Tract Disease), which is more psychological than bacterial, where stress causes the cat to have UTI symptoms. Again, I am given the same medications, and this time I pay around $500 for this visit.

I follow the instructions for the medicine and Linus seems to get better, but then, a couple of weeks later, he is crying again either late at night. He is searching again for something soft to pee on. I take him to the ER again. They decide to hold him for a few hours for observation and testing. I’m exhausted and concerned. Unlike the previous two times, I can’t go into the ER waiting room because of the health crisis and they only do curbside. I head home until they call me to pick him up. Turns out he was a bit dehydrated and they gave him fluids. But they also say he’s not blocked. I believe I pay something like $700 for this visit.

When I get home, Linus is acting really lethargic. He’s hardly moving and looks like he’s in pain. It looks like he’s straining and making grunting noises. I call the ER and express my concerns that he is blocked. The front desk hands the phone to the vet.

ER Vet: “It sounds like he’s blocked.”

Me: “How much will it cost to unblock him?”

She tells me an amount that’s AT LEAST $2,500. I begin crying because I’m saving for a house and that would be a good chunk of my savings. When I tell her I can’t afford that, I will never forget what she says to me.

ER Vet: “Well, if you have bad credit, you can always sign up for [Medical Credit Card #1 ], or the vet specific [Medical Credit Card #2].”

I am beyond pissed.

Me: “My credit isn’t the issue. Could we try [medication]? Isn’t that supposed to relax the urethra?”

ER Vet: “Sure, we can try that, but it won’t help.”

I go back to the ER to get the medication and the vet tech there tells me to try an animal hospital (basically a local clinic) in a nearby town that does surgeries. This animal hospital happens to also be my mom’s vet. I thank the vet tech and make an appointment for the next morning at the animal hospital.

I take my cat to the animal hospital, where they tell me to wait in my car because of the health crisis. When I’m called in, they take me to the room and I explain everything, including the visits with the ER. The vet later comes in and does a physical exam.

Animal Hospital Vet: “Linus is definitely blocked. I’ll be able to unblock him today. I’ll get you a quote range on costs.”

When he leaves, I look at my poor baby and burst into tears. I feel like such a bad pet parent. I’m able to calm myself by the time the vet comes back. He gives me the quote range, which is something like $680 at the lowest, $720 at the highest. I start crying again and the vet and vet tech give me concerned looks.

Me: “The ER wanted to charge me over $2,500.”

Animal Hospital Vet: “$2,500 to unblock a cat? That’s ridiculous.”

I agreed for him to do the procedure, and they took my cat to the back. He explained that I needed to put him on special prescription diet food after the procedure. In addition, if he became blocked three times within a short time span, such as a year, then we might need to look at surgery that would basically turn him into a “female”; the surgery makes the male cat’s urethra shorter and wider like a female’s, which is why females don’t get blocked.

I thanked him and left. Linus was in the clinic for three days and was well after that. There was some concern expressed by the vet that Linus’s blood sugar was high and that he might be diabetic, but it turns out he’s not, luckily.

Linus now is doing well. I’ve had no more scares since. He’s on special prescription food and is happy and healthy.

The Only Thing Worse Than The Itching Is The Doctor
Bigotry, California, Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | September 6, 2021
Ever since her knee surgery, I haven’t seen my regular dermatologist. Instead, I see one of her two assistants. [Assistant #1 ] is ex-military, very brusk, and doesn’t like to do anything extra. [Assistant #2 ] is extremely sweet, a better doctor than my actual dermatologist, and was the first to figure out I have Polycystic Ovary Syndrome.

I go in once a year for a mole check as skin cancer is what ultimately killed my paternal grandma. This time, I’m stuck with [Assistant #1 ]. Because of my PCOS, I’m under the care of an endocrinologist, so I get my blood tested every three months. The PCOS has contributed to weight gain over the years, so yes, I am fat.

Me: “While I’m here… my feet have been super itchy. It’s just like I have ants crawling all over them.”

The assistant doesn’t even bother to look at my feet.

Assistant #1 : “That’s because you’re diabetic.”

Me: “No, I’m not. My bloodwork shows that my blood sugars are well within normal range. I’m not even pre-diabetic.”

Assistant #1 : “If your feet are itching like that it’s because you’re diabetic and have neuropathy.”

Me: “I just saw my endocrinologist recently and I am not diabetic. All my bloodwork shows that everything is normal except for being severely anemic.”

Assistant #1 : “I’ll prescribe a steroid, but you’re diabetic and have neuropathy.”

She prescribes a topical steroid that does absolutely zilch for the itchiness. I end up finding more relief from a medicated powder from the dollar store. My blood work over the next year confirms I’m STILL not diabetic. On top of that, my feet are very ticklish, so I obviously have no neuropathy. On my next mole check a year later, I get [Assistant #2 ].

She notices the smell of medicated foot powder.

Assistant #2 : “Are you having problems with your feet?”

She begins to examine my feet.

Me: “Yes, they itch a lot. [Assistant #1 ] insisted I have diabetes and neuropathy, but she prescribed something anyway. It didn’t work.”

Assistant #2 : “You don’t have diabetes or neuropathy. You have a foot fungus.”

She prescribed a foam and a special powder. Within a week, my itchy feet stopped itching. And according to my endocrinologist, I’m STILL not diabetic.

She Could’ve At Least Asked First
Bad Behavior, Hospital, Reddit, Strangers | Healthy | CREDIT: Margali | September 5, 2021
I was leaving a doctor’s appointment and my ride arrived, so I stood up and propped myself on the outside of the seat while I was getting ready to fold my wheelchair. A woman ran up and tried to wheel it away — great brakes on my chair — and I had to struggle with her while my driver got out and came to help me.

Woman: *Whining* “But I need this chair for my mom! She’s aged! And this chair is so much nicer and cleaner than the other chairs around here!”

We had to get the guard involved. I could understand if it was a generic wheelchair in basic aluminum, but I guess she didn’t understand that the hospital didn’t have royal purple wheelchairs with cup holders, cane holders, and a chair bag.

Instagramedical Emergency
Bad Behavior, Boyfriend/Girlfriend, Germany, Health & Body, Patients, Reddit | Healthy | CREDIT: AleksFenix96 | September 3, 2021
I work as a paramedic in a small town in northern Germany, thirty kilometers away from the next big city. Sometimes we need to bring patients to the big city.

It is a hot and busy day, we roll the first six hours through the whole city, mostly taking care of small issues that just require transport. After the first real emergency, a car crash that needed transport to the mentioned bigger city, we are putting our stuff back together at the hospital.

Not even one minute after setting our status to “free for calls,” the dispatch has something for us.

Dispatch: “Woman, around twenty years old, feeling unwell, no more information.”

That means it could be anything, from toe pain to cardiac arrest.

After a ten-minute drive with “lights and music,” we arrive and ring at the door. The patient’s boyfriend comes to the door, recording video on his phone.

Patient’s Boyfriend: “Hey, guys, the ambulance came very quick. They even had sirens on!”

My partner and I exchange “What the f***?” looks.

Me: “Good day. We were called to [Patient]. Are we in the right place?”

Patient’s Boyfriend: *Still filming* “Yeah, come in, guys. That’s going to be great.”

Me: *Thinking* “What in the f*** is wrong here?”

We go in to find the young woman lying on the couch. She’s really thin — we can see some of her bones — and unresponsive. While my partner is checking her blood pressure, pulse, etc., and I am getting the monitor (EKG) ready, I ask the boyfriend what the matter is.

Patient’s Boyfriend: *Still filming us* “She was filming her sport tutorial for her Instagram followers and suddenly fainted. She is on a new diet; she just looks too fat.”

Me: “Has she eaten or drunk anything today? And could you please put the phone down?”

Patient’s Boyfriend: “Just a little bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice. No, I don’t need to put it down. These ‘blue light stories’ are epic on Instagram.”

We are interrupted by an alarm sound from the monitor. The patient’s blood pressure is worryingly low. And the rest of her vitals don’t look good, either.

Partner: “We need a doctor here.”

In Germany, we can call doctors to the scene if we need to give special medications or make invasive treatments. I call the doctor.

Me: “Mr. [Patient’s Boyfriend], stop filming. Your girlfriend is in critical condition.”

Patient’s Boyfriend: “Nah, man, this is going to be huge. She will love it to put it on her YouTube.”

Partner: *Sarcastically* “Yeah, the ‘How I Nearly Died’ vlog. Absolutely great idea.”

I prepare to put a needle in the patient’s arm. The boyfriend comes so close that he hits me and I nearly stab myself. That is the boiling point. I am now really pissed.

Me: *Calm but a bit louder and clearer* “If you don’t back off and put the phone down, I will get the police here and they will take care of it. You don’t understand, do you? Your girlfriend is lying here with bad blood pressure, oxygen, and pulse. I’m really worried that we are close to needing CPR. Even our doctor is on the way. So back off and put the phone down or the police will really take care of it.”

Patient’s Boyfriend: “Sorry, I can’t. This is my work.”

My partner and I exchange looks again.

Me: “All right, I’m calling the police.”

A few minutes after that, the doctor arrived. He was annoyed by the boyfriend, too, and told him to go away, but he still didn’t listen.

A few more minutes later, the cops came and made him delete all the footage. They stood with him outside until we went to the hospital.

We managed to get the patient to the ICU. She made it and is now in good hands. Hopefully, she dumped her boyfriend.

How Dairy Miss This?!
Doctor/Physician, Home, The Netherlands | Healthy | September 1, 2021
When I am around eight years old in the 1990s, I start to get random tummy aches. They appear out of the blue and often come with diarrhoea. My parents take me to our general physician, who can’t find anything. He sends me to a specialist, who does every test he can think of. They find nothing. Since my health seems in order — growing right, not dehydrated, etc. — the specialist tells my parents to keep a good eye on my weight, etc. “Make sure she eats healthy, like enough whole grains, fruits, veggies, and milk.”

I grow up okay and I seem to get fewer tummy aches when I eat at home. My parents deduce that it might come from fats or spices, things we don’t use that much of at home. I don’t like milk, but I love yoghurt and buttermilk, so my desserts are often those things mixed with fruits. I can drink litres of buttermilk or yoghurt in a day, so my parents are not worried about my calcium.

After my marriage, I come across a site that I wasn’t looking for that lists all my symptoms. I go to my new general physician again.

Me: “Remember all those tummy aches listed in my file? I was wondering… Could I be lactose intolerant?”

Doctor: “You know you shouldn’t read those sites online. They mention cancer every three lines.”

Me: “Yes, but the list—”

Doctor: “When do you often have tummy aches?”

Me: “When I go out for dinner.”

Doctor: “And why do you think you are lactose intolerant?”

Me: “Because I always end dinner with ice cream—”

Doctor: “That little does not—”

Me: “With whipped cream. And I love creamy sauces or creamy soups, which I often have at a restaurant, as well.”

Doctor: “Do you also get a tummy ache when you drink milk?”

Me: “No, but that’s because I don’t like milk. I drink buttermilk. And I prefer goat’s cheese, as well.”

Doctor: “Fine, let’s get you tested.”

After a while, I get a call.

Doctor: “Hey, [My Name], I never thought I would say this: the Internet was right. You are lactose intolerant. I can prescribe some pills if you want, but there are a lot of vegan alternatives nowadays. You could look into that if you want.”

So, after about thirty years, I finally found out what’s wrong with me, what specialists then couldn’t find. I have no idea why they didn’t look into that, but they no longer work in the field, anyway. I am absolutely not vegan, but I am glad there are many vegan alternatives available.

Bedside Manner Who?
Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Jerk, Medical Office, Mississippi, USA | Healthy | August 30, 2021
For many years, a local doctor was my primary care physician. She was also my pediatrician. I moved out of town a few years ago, but my insulin resistance has gotten worse, so I made the drive back to her because I thought I could trust her with my health. This is how it went.

Doctor: “So, you think you have insulin resistance?”

Me: “Uh, I do have it. It’s because of my PCOS. It was diagnosed a few years back—”

Doctor: “But you’re not on [medication]?

Me: “I thought I wasn’t able to be on any medication for it—”

Doctor: “You’ve been aware of this since seventh grade and you’ve never been on medication?! That’s such a shame; you’ve obviously retained so much weight. You wouldn’t be so overweight if someone had caught this sooner. By the looks of it, your pediatrician should have caught this in elementary school!”

Me: “Um… I was diagnosed here. I was told to just diet, exercise, and manage my PCOS to take care of it.”

Doctor: “Oh, God, it was probably [Other Doctor]. Don’t worry, she’s retired now, so—”

Me: “It was you, actually.”

Doctor: “I never diagnosed you with this. I told you I thought you had it. I didn’t say you actually did.”

I was confused out of my mind.

Me: “Um… Okay, but I do, in fact, have it. I’ve had it for years.”

An awkward silence fell.

Doctor: “Do you go to the lady doctor? Like a…” *whispers* “…gynecologist? ”

Me: “Um, yeah, pretty regularly, for my PCOS.”

Doctor: “Well, she should have prescribed you [medication]! I’ll have to get in contact with her and let her know what she’s done.”

Because it’s totally my OBGYN’s job to treat my insulin resistance. She spent the next few minutes talking about my weight in the most insulting way possible.

Doctor: “It’s so sad you got to be so big!”

Keep in mind, I wear a large. I’m overweight but I’m not exactly the star of “My 600 Pound Life.” She made comments saying she could tell I had insulin resistance by the way I carried all my weight in my “front tire”. Yes, she loved calling my stomach a “front tire”. She pointed out every lump on my body in an “Aw, you poor baby!” kind of way. After all that, she gave me this gem.

Doctor: “Now I need you to go on this diet, but I don’t like calling it a diet! Putting patients on diets can make them feel bad about their bodies!”

Gee, lady, I sure would hate for you to make me self-conscious. Also, she recommended this diet immediately after I told her I