You Walked Right Into That One

Hospital, Non-Dialogue, Oklahoma, USA | Healthy | November 10, 2017


My boyfriend is away on a trip for several days. On the first day he scrapes his leg on something, but the cut isn’t deep and he doesn’t think anything about it. By the end of his trip, his leg is swollen, sore, and hot to the touch. When he gets home he can barely put weight on it, and once we get ice on it and the swelling goes down, we see that his calf muscle is knotted up, creating a huge ‘dent’ in his leg. Worried that it could be something like a blood clot, I insist on rushing him to the ER.

We get there, and my boyfriend insists on walking in, though I drop him off as close to the doors as I can, so he doesn’t have to limp too far. He almost doesn’t make it through signing all of the paperwork because standing hurts so much. We get to the back quickly, and a doctor sees us and states that they will do an ultrasound to rule out a clot. All good so far.

After the ultrasound tech leaves we wait. And wait. For about an hour.

Finally a nurse comes in and asks if we’re ready to leave. After some confused glances, we point out that we were never given a diagnosis. The nurse apologizes, saying she thought we’d already spoken to the doctor because our paperwork was up for discharge, but she’ll go get him right away.

Okaaay…

The doctor comes in, tells us it isn’t a clot, and that it must be an infection. What kind of infection is not stated (they didn’t test to find out), and she bids us goodbye after stating that there will be a prescription for antibiotics for him at our pharmacy.

Then my boyfriend tries to get up… but can’t. After an hour and a half of having his leg elevated, bringing it below waist level is incredibly painful and he can’t manage it. Note: I am 5’3″ and 170 lbs; he is 6’4″ and 260 lbs. I cannot help him out alone.

I go out into the main hall and explain the situation to the doctor, and how we need some way to get my boyfriend up and out of the ER. He says, okay, we’ll get him some pain medication. Cool. Sounds like a plan. So we wait again.

For. Another. HOUR.

Finally I venture out again and flag down a nurse. Guess what: THEY FORGOT WE WERE STILL THERE. Like, just completely forgot a patient was still in a room.

The nurse has to go flag down the doctor again, and I go back to the room. Not too long after, a new nurse comes in and hands my boyfriend a piece of paper. It’s a scrip for pain medication, to be filled at our pharmacy. So… you know… not helpful in the least with our current predicament.

We explain to the nurse the problem, and she responds, in the most condescending voice possible, ‘Well, you walked INTO the ER, so clearly you CAN walk.’

Both my boyfriend and myself are just stunned by the audacity of the statement. When he came in at triage he gave his pain as an eight. We are now telling them it has gotten worse, and the response we’re getting is basically ‘walk it off, p****.’

Attempts to reason with her are fruitless — she just repeats the same thing to us and even implies that we are being ungrateful for the better prescription for pain medicine (‘Originally, we were only prescribing you ibuprofen, but we were nice enough to write you this prescription, too’). After arguing in circles with her for a few minutes, my boyfriend builds up enough rage-adrenaline to heave himself out of bed and just grit through the pain, though he turns bright red in doing it. The nurse seems to take this as a victory and flounces off — no offer for a wheelchair or crutches, even just to get to the car.

On the way to the car we agreed that unless one of us is actively dying, we’re going to the next town over for ER care from now on.

Numb To Death

Hospital, Kansas, USA | Healthy | November 10, 2017


(Earlier this year I have cataract surgery on my right eye, and I am very nervous about it, never having had eye surgery before. The nurse knows this and is doing her best to keep me calm while waiting for the surgeon. Then this happens:)

Me: “Will I feel anything during surgery?”

Nurse: “Oh, no, your eye will be dead!”

Me: “…”

Nurse: “Sorry, numb! Your eye will be numb!”

(Whew.)

You’re A Cabron

California, Hospital, Language & Words, USA | Healthy | November 10, 2017


(I, and two friends, go to visit a friend in the hospital. We know his room number, but it doesn’t correlate to the floor he is on, so we head back down to reception to find that out. When we get there, there are people ahead of us. One of them rips into the receptionist (who is in a security guard uniform) because they hadn’t been speaking English. At least half the population of Orange County speaks Spanish, if not natively, very fluently, like most of southern California. I offer my opinion:)

Me: “I think the basic problem here is that you’re an a**-hole.”

Man: “You think I’m an a**-hole because I think they should speak English?”

Me: “Yes. That’s why I think you’re an a**-hole.”

(He tries to offer up every racist justification in the book, and in reply to each one, I say:)

Me: “And you’re an a**-hole.”

(After about 30 seconds of being reminded just what part of the human anatomy he was, he got disgusted and left. I didn’t notice it at the time, but apparently the receptionist/security guard spent the entire time trying desperately not to laugh, and nearly succeeding. I sincerely hope she went home and told her family the story over dinner — in Spanish.)

It’s A Gay Mole-Hunt

LGBTQ, Medical Office, UK | Healthy | November 9, 2017


(I have gone to the doctor’s about a mole I am suspicious of. I have spent close to five minutes with the doctor going over what seems different about it, and showing her pictures of it before I noticed the change. I keep pictures of my moles because my mum was diagnosed earlier in life, and it has made me rather paranoid about them. The doctor has done nothing but listen, smile, and “hmm…” every now and again. She stops me mid-sentence.)

Doctor: “Are you gay?”

Me: “What?”

Doctor: “Are you gay?”

Me: “Yes. Does that have something to do with my mole?”

Doctor: “No, it’s just my family thinks my nephew might be gay, and I’m wondering if you want to help me find out.”

Me: *stunned* “No, I don’t. I want to find out whether my mole changing means I have cancer.”

Doctor: “That’s a shame. We really want to know.”

(She sits there not focusing on anything for a few seconds.)

Me: “My mole?”

Doctor: *sitting upright* “Look, will you help me or not?”

(I didn’t answer and left the room. I made a complaint before leaving and ended up signing with a new doctor. I got a letter from the old doctor apologising for her behaviour, but my mum tells me she still works there, and is still trying to find out if her nephew is gay.)

Your Wisdom Is Toothless

Dentist, Massachusetts, USA | Healthy | November 9, 2017


(I am visiting an oral surgeon for the first time after getting a referral from my dentist for severe jaw pain that has been an issue for years.)

Me: “My jaw clicks when I open my mouth, and it hurts a lot if I try to keep my mouth open for a long time.”

Doctor: “Okay, let’s take some X-rays.”

(We take the X-rays and the doctor comes back to me.)

Doctor: “This issue is not something that I would recommend surgery for; it won’t fix the problem. But you do have impacted wisdom teeth.”

Me: “Okay, what would you recommend for the jaw pain? And I know the top right wisdom tooth has been causing me a lot of pain as well. I was going to get a referral for that.”

Doctor: “I won’t operate on your jaw for the jaw pain. It won’t help.”

Me: “Okay, but is there anything you can recommend that might help?”

Doctor: “I won’t do surgery unless I think it will help, and in this case it won’t help.”

(Repeat me asking for something besides surgery a few more times with the same answer.)

Doctor: “Okay, I’m going to see if we can get approval from the insurance for the wisdom teeth. You should hear back from us in a few weeks to schedule an appointment.”

(Fast forward a few weeks. I get a letter in the mail saying I have been approved to have three of my wisdom teeth removed, with no mention of the fourth (the only one that was bothering me). Never went back. Why would I trust someone to do surgery on me when they are incapable of listening to anything I said?)

That’s The Worst Tasting Peanut Butter Ever

California, Medical Office, Sacramento, USA | Healthy | November 8, 2017


(I’m working with the nephrologist at our clinic when I read an exchange between her and a lab tech in our EMR system.)

Lab Tech: “Patient was given a jug for collecting the 24-hour urine test but was unable to fit the total volume in the jug, so she put the rest in a peanut butter jar. Please re-order test as this is an unacceptable container and will have to be re-done. We will give her two jugs.”

Nephrologist: “Test re-ordered. Hopefully no more peanut butter jars this time…”

(The 24-hour urine test comes with patient instructions that say in big bold letters not to use any container but the jugs provided, and to get another jug if needed.)

That’s The Worst Tasting Peanut Butter Ever

California, Medical Office, Sacramento, USA | Healthy | November 8, 2017


(I’m working with the nephrologist at our clinic when I read an exchange between her and a lab tech in our EMR system.)

Lab Tech: “Patient was given a jug for collecting the 24-hour urine test but was unable to fit the total volume in the jug, so she put the rest in a peanut butter jar. Please re-order test as this is an unacceptable container and will have to be re-done. We will give her two jugs.”

Nephrologist: “Test re-ordered. Hopefully no more peanut butter jars this time…”

(The 24-hour urine test comes with patient instructions that say in big bold letters not to use any container but the jugs provided, and to get another jug if needed

You’ve Got Things Back To Front

Canada, Manitoba, Pharmacy, Winnipeg | Healthy | November 8, 2017


(At our pharmacy we have cashiers who run the till when customers pick up their prescriptions. The cashiers have no pharmacy school education. A woman is picking up an antibiotic for a urinary tract infection.)

Customer: *in a loud voice* “I keep getting these urinary tract infections!”

Cashier: *awkwardly* “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

Customer: *still very loud* “Do you think it’s because I wipe from back to front? They say you shouldn’t but I’ve done it all my life!”

Cashier: *trying very hard to remain professional* “Er… I really couldn’t say.”

(Meanwhile the rest of the staff are trying very hard not to laugh out loud.)

And Every Male Reader Just Crossed His Legs

Bookstore, Pennsylvania, USA | Healthy | November 8, 2017


(A lady calls into our bookstore. We are a private, Christian, non-profit organization. She wants to know about circumcision and any materials pertaining to that subject. I am confused as to why she wants it.)

Lady: “Hi, do you guys have any books on circumcision?”

Me: “Uh… no. That is mainly a Jewish practice, started in the Old Testament by Abraham and his family as a holy covenant with God.”

Lady: “That’s fascinating! Well, my nephew has just been born and the family was talking about it, and I didn’t know what it was. Every time I ask they avoid the subject with me.”

(After explaining to her what it was and why people did it, I told her that the practice today is done by a trained professional called the Mohel or by a medical professional.)

Lady: “So, it’s not as bad as it sounds! So do you think I could do it on my boyfriend? Here he is now!”

(Her boyfriend apparently walked into the room. She proceeded to check his penis to see if he was circumcised and tell me the gory details over the phone.)

Lady: “Can it be done with some scissors?”

Me: “Um… no… you would have to go to the hospital for that.”

Lady: “But you said it was not that bad!”

Me: “Yes, but if it’s not done right you can seriously hurt your boyfriend.”

Lady: “Oh. But Abraham did it with a knife!”

Me: “That was a long time ago and I’m sure he had divine intervention to help him!”

A Miscarriage Of Justice

Medical Office, Texas, USA | Healthy | November 7, 2017


(My husband and I have recently found out we’re pregnant. We’re excited but also nervous since a year before I had a traumatizing and painful miscarriage. We’re at the clinic where three weeks prior they did an ultrasound but said it was too early. But upon our return this ultrasound showed a fetus but no growth or heartbeat. We’re devastated to say the least. My husband had to step out for a few minutes. The doctor comes back in with blood test results.)

Doctor: “Your choices are to miscarry naturally or have a procedure for it to get taken out. My schedule is tight so we may need to try naturally first.”

Me: “Isn’t it… dangerous for me to try naturally, given my history?”

Doctor: *heavy sigh* “All right, we’ll schedule you for next week when I have an opening. [Nurse] will give you a packet of the information. You’ll be put under so as usual, no food or drink after midnight and no alcohol or recreational drugs 48 hours before. So for the next few days PARTAY IT UP! It’ll probably make you feel better.”

(He then puts his hand on my leg, which I’ve made clear I can’t stand people touching me.)

Me: *trying to keep from bawling* “You are a psychopath. Come near me and I will take your stethoscope and shove it so far up your a** you can hear your own heartbeat, if you have one. I’m going to go find a real doctor.”

(I ran out of there as fast as I could, found my now confused, then angry, husband, and left. I spent an hour in the car crying my eyes out, which might have been eased had I a doctor with empathy. I later found a different doctor that handled the situation properly and discovered the first doctor’s practice was eventually shut down due to fraud and malpractice. Good riddance.)