Health Care stories

hospital for a followup, I didn’t have to deal with the pregnancy question again.)

1 Thumbs
668

220
Share

Parents Of Patients Can’t Be Patient
Bad Behavior, Hospital, Missouri, Parents/Guardians, USA | Healthy | April 11, 2019
(I’m working on a pediatric hospital ward. A patient quits breathing and a code blue is called.)

Parent: *of another patient on the ward* “Excuse me. We asked for Tylenol ten minutes ago and my child’s fever continues to get worse.”

Nurse: “I’m sorry, but we are in the middle of a respiratory code right now and someone will help you in a few minutes.”

Parent: “I don’t give a d*** about that other child; my child needs Tylenol right now!”

Needs To Have Another Baby Talk
Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Jerk, Nurses, USA | Healthy | April 10, 2019
(My husband and I are very excited to expect our first child, but we sadly lose the baby just before Christmas. I am scheduled for a D&C the next day. The nurse takes me back to the bed to get changed and this happens.)

Nurse: “When was your last menstrual period?”

Me: “Uh… like three months ago?”

Nurse: *handing me a cup* “Okay, the bathroom is right in there; we’re going to need a urine specimen.”

Me: “That’s really not…”

Nurse: “When you come back, put on the gown, opening in front, and put all your clothes in this bag.”

(She heads off to do something else.)

Husband: “Does she not know why you are here?”

(My urine sat on a table for the next three hours until I was wheeled into the operating room. I did not see that nurse again the entire time I was there, and everyone else was smart enough to offer condolences instead of asking me to take a bloody pregnancy test!)

1 Thumbs
434

85
Share

Mathamedical
Employees, Florida, Jerk, Pharmacy, USA | Healthy | April 9, 2019
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

(I take 150 mg of a seizure medication per day. It does not come in 150 mg tablets, though, so my doctor has written two prescriptions for it, one for 50 mg and one for 100 mg. I’ve been taking this dosage for over two years. I’ve used the same pharmacy the entire time. This happens one day when I go to pick up my prescription.)

Me: “Hello, I’m here to pick up my prescription.” *gives information*

New Tech: “Oh, that’s weird; I actually have two here for you. Do you take the 50- or 100-mg dose?”

Me: “I take both. My prescription is for 150 mg, and that’s the only way it can be filled.”

New Tech: “That’s not right! You can only take one or the other, not both.”

Me: “I assure you it’s correct. If you look at my records, you’ll see that the same prescription has been filled for over two years. I know most people either take one or the other, but it’s a seizure medication, so the dose can actually go up to 400 mg based on symptoms and therapeutic levels.”

(The tech continues to argue with me that I can only get one or the other because most people take either 50 mg or 100 mg, not 150 mg. I ask her to get the pharmacist. The tech goes over and tells him what’s going on. He looks up, see who it is, waves, and tells her that yes, it’s correct. She starts arguing with him that it cannot be correct. He just takes my prescription from her, walks over, and checks me out himself.)

Pharmacist: “Sorry about that. Here your prescription. I’ve added a note to your account just in case this is a problem at any point in the future.”

(The next time I came in, another new tech questioned me on which prescription I took of two again. I told her both. She told me to hold on, as there was a note on my account. She started laughing. The note read, “Don’t argue with her; the prescription is correct. Yes, it’s really both. If you’ve got a problem with it, come see me to sign off on it.”)

It’s Going To Be A Long Week That Lasts Two Months
Date, Ignoring & Inattentive, Medical Office, Patients, USA | Healthy | April 8, 2019
(It is currently the beginning of April and this patient needs an appointment.)

Me: “Our next available is mid-June.”

Patient: “Okay, go ahead and schedule me for next Thursday.”

Me: “Our next available is mid-June.”

Patient: “I can’t schedule now; just schedule me for next Thursday.”

Me: “If you can’t schedule right now, that’s fine, but we are booking out until mid-June.”

Patient: “Okay, I’ll call back and schedule for next Thursday.”

He’s Far From The Shallow Now
Bizarre, Hospital, Patients, USA | Healthy | April 7, 2019
(My grandfather has fallen, hit his head hard, and had a stroke. Doctors are trying to figure out if the stroke he had caused the fall or if he fell so hard that it caused a stroke. Shortly after he is transferred to the stroke ward from the ICU, the doctor is asking my grandfather some questions to check his mental condition.)

Doctor: “Do you know what year it is?”

Grandfather: “Lady Gaga.”

Doctor: *slight pause* “Okay, but do you know the year?”

Grandfather: “2029.”

(Unfortunately, he wasn’t joking with his responses, but his doctors say he is making a good recovery even though he’s not quite sure what year we’re in.)

No Three Cheers For This Doctor
Bad Behavior, Doctor/Physician, Georgia, Hospital, USA, Wild & Unruly | Healthy | April 25, 2019
(My first experience with a migraine is not a fun one. I lay in bed for two days and nothing works. I am ten at the time. My mom decides to take me to the ER to get stronger medicines since I am missing school and crying any time I am awake. After waiting for an hour, I am taken back and they begin prepping for medicine.)

Doctor: “All right. I’m going to give you a shot to help your head.”

Me: “W-what? I didn’t…”

(I start crying again due to a fear of needles while my mom comforts me. The doctor preps the shot.)

Doctor: “All right. Going to count to three and then we’ll stick you. One… Two…”

(He then jabs the needle in. I scream and jerk away because I wasn’t prepared, causing blood to get all over my arm.)

Doctor: “What the h*** was that for?! You’re ten! Grow up!”

Mom: “And you stabbed my child! You said, ‘On three’!”

Doctor: “Well, if he wasn’t such a brat—“

(A nurse comes in at that moment and sees me crying with blood all over my arm, my mom cornering the doctor, and the doctor with the needle still in his hand. The doctor shoves my mom away and all but slams the needle into the nurse’s hand.)

Doctor: “You take care of this spoiled brat!”

(The nurse patched me up and waited until three to stick me. It took a few tries, but we finally got the medicine. Once it took effect, I don’t remember anything, but, from what I heard, the doctor was fired because he was too rough with patients. One even almost died because of him.)

Cyst-emic Failure To Diagnose
Canada, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Stupid | Healthy | April 24, 2019
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

(I wake up in excruciating and familiar pain. As someone who has cystic ovaries, I can tell when a cyst is about to rupture; the pain is as identifiable as it is horrific. Other symptoms accompany it, including increased discharge from the nether regions — a point that is important, I assure you. My husband drives me to the ER where I describe the symptoms to the nurse, who winces empathetically.)

Nurse: “I’ve had that, too; I know exactly how you feel.”

(The doctor comes in and I clearly explain my symptoms in detail. She performs a pelvic exam.)

Doctor: “Have you inserted a suppository because of the discharge?”

Me: *in disbelief* “No, that’s the other symptom I mentioned to you; it’s fluid from the ruptured cyst.”

(She then grabs my right leg, pushes it up and into my abdomen, and asks me if it hurts as I gasp and retch from the pain of it torquing my ovary. Her diagnosis?)

Doctor: “Tendonitis in your leg.”

(She sent me home with instructions to alternate ice and heat. The sympathetic nurse urged me to seek a second opinion, which I did. At the second hospital, I explained all of my symptoms to the triage nurse, and said, “You will see in my records that I was just seen at the other hospital and was released with a diagnosis of tendonitis. I thought I’d come to see someone at your facility since, apparently, tendonitis is leaking out of my vagina.” Once she finished laughing, she and the rest of the medical team quickly diagnosed me with a ruptured ovarian cyst, and provided the pain medication and follow-up care I needed!)

Doctors Don’t Know Everything
Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Italy, Lazy/Unhelpful | Healthy | August 4, 2021
A routine blood test shows that my levels of TSH — thyroid-stimulating hormone — are high, 4.2 mg/l. Basically, it means that my thyroid isn’t working properly: the normal value ought to be under 4.5. I start seeing an endocrinologist. At 5…

Endocrinologist: “Yes, yes. Nothing to worry about. Let’s just keep it monitored. See you next year.”

Next year, at 6…

Endocrinologist: “Well, well. There’s clearly something going on here, but I’d rather not start medicating as you’re still young. See you next year.”

Next year, at 8…

Endocrinologist: “I don’t like the look of this. If it keeps rising, we’ll have to put you on something. See you next year.”

I get in the family way, and eight months into my pregnancy, I’m examined by an obstetric, an old guard doctor with the manners of a constipated bear. He takes a look at my blood tests.

Obstetric: “Just what are you waiting for before you do something for that thyroid, lady? Your TSH is through the roof!”

Thyroid medication, of course, is prescription-only. I would have so liked to give him my endocrinologist’s number and watch the discussion.

Diagnosis: Unnecessary Anguish
Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Medical Office, Texas, USA | Healthy | July 24, 2021
In 2016, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. Due to the cancer being estrogen-related, she opted out of chemotherapy and decided that the mastectomy and pills would be enough. I supported her 100% and even argued against doctors and my father when they tried to pressure her.

Two years later, her thyroid started acting up. She went in for multiple biopsies. While we waited for results, I started Googling if the breast cancer could have metastasized into her thyroid. A week went by, and she went to her regular doctor and was told that the results were cancer. We got a nice report that said whatever they found was malignant.

We were devastated, and I blamed myself for not pushing chemo on my mom. We got the results Wednesday and had to wait until Monday to see her cancer doctor. It was a bad week. The day of the appointment, I tagged along with my mom and dad so I could be kept informed. The doctor walked into the office smiling.

Doctor: “How are we doing today?”

Mom: “I don’t know, you tell me. Do you know what stage it is? Has it spread?”

Doctor: “Cancer?”

Mom: “In the thyroid?”

Doctor: “You don’t have cancer.”

Mom: “What? They told me it was cancer.”

That was apparently shocking enough that the doctor left the room to go talk with the other doctors who did the biopsy.

Doctor: “Well, I mean it’s not not cancer. We don’t know exactly what’s wrong. It needs to come out for sure, but it’s probably not cancer, and if it was, it’d be stage zero and not dangerous.”

I sat in silence while the doctor hashed out treatment and surgery options with my parents. I felt relieved but also annoyed and confused.

Me: “I read the report, though. Why’d they put ‘malignant’ if they didn’t know?”

Doctor: “Oh, well, sometimes they just need to put something on the report.”

It wasn’t cancer, by the way. The thyroid was two times bigger and three times heavier than it should have been and covered in nodes, but my mom made a full recovery and is healthy.

This All Sounds Totally Normal
Doctor/Physician, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, Pennsylvania, Pittsburgh, USA | Healthy | July 9, 2021
I’ve had some worrying symptoms, so I go to see a new doctor for the first time. I recently lost my insurance and then the health crisis hit, so I haven’t had a primary care provider in some time. As suspected, the doctor orders some bloodwork.

Me: “Will this require me to fast? Because if I don’t, fair warning, my liver enzymes will be high.”

Doctor: “What do you mean?”

Me: “Any time I take a blood test and I’m not required to fast, my liver enzymes are always reported as abnormally high.”

Doctor: “And your previous doctor never bothered to try and figure out why that is?”

Me: “No, they would just order another test, have me fast, and then go, ‘You’re normal.’”

The doctor rolls her eyes in annoyance at this.

Doctor: “Okay, but… why wouldn’t they check that?” *Sighs* “Don’t fast for this one, but I’m going to have to have that checked out… like somebody should have a while ago.”

A Very Patient Patient
Doctor/Physician, Lazy/Unhelpful, Psychiatrist, USA, Virginia | Healthy | July 7, 2021
I’ve just begun seeing this psychiatrist for treatment for ADD after having been diagnosed by a different doctor who, unfortunately, was too far away for me to see him regularly.

First, I go over history, habits, etc. with her.

Me: “I’ve read that [Drug #1 ] is more commonly used to treat this, but [Drug #2 ] has less anxiety-inducing side effects, and I think that that might be the better choice for me—”

Doctor #1 : “Oh, no, you don’t want to take either of those. They can both be addictive, but [Drug #3 ] works just as well and doesn’t have nearly so many terrible side effects.”

Me: “Oh, all right! That sounds a lot better. Let’s try that!”

She then goes over what she says are all the potential side effects I need to worry about and writes me a prescription. Two weeks later, I return for my first follow-up.

Doctor #1 : “So, how do you like them?”

Me: “I don’t know. They make me sick to my stomach. Most days, I throw up for the first time pretty soon after taking them, even if I’m sure to do it with food and without anything else that might upset my stomach, so I don’t think they’re actually being properly absorbed, and then I’m sick throughout the day. When I can keep them down, I still get very nauseous. I’m having headaches and feeling really tired.”

Doctor #1 : “That’s normal while you’re starting the medication. You just need to keep taking it; your body will adjust.”

Me: “Even though I’m throwing it up almost every day?”

Doctor #1 : “Yes, it’s still getting into your system. You’ll see.”

Me: “And the headaches and tiredness?”

Doctor #1 : “The headaches will go away, and tiredness isn’t a side effect of this drug. You need to make sure you’re maintaining a good sleep schedule; that way, you’ll be able to separate your regular feelings from the medication. Just stick with it.”

Two weeks after that, I go back again.

Me: “I haven’t been getting sick quite as much, but the headaches and drowsiness are really bad, even on days when I’m getting eight hours. Also, does this medication react with alcohol at all? Because I was at a party and I had a drink, and I started feeling way too intoxicated for just having had one drink.”

Doctor #1 : “What? You must never drink while you’re taking this medication! You shouldn’t drink at all — it’s so bad for you — but if you drink while you’re on this medication, it will kill you!”

Me: “I told you in the intake interview that I drank occasionally. Why didn’t you warn me?”

Doctor #1 : “You shouldn’t drink at all! It’s terrible for you! You’re so lucky nothing else happened to you!”

So, I give up drinking. At her insistence, I keep taking the medication, in part because she’s told me that she won’t prescribe me anything else, despite me requesting that she change it multiple times. I assume that since she’s a doctor, she must know better than I do, even though the side effects still remain and I haven’t noticed many changes in my symptoms.

After ten months, I start seeing a psychotherapist for different reasons, and when she hears about what’s been going on, she insists that I take her referral to a different psychiatrist.

Doctor #2 : “So, you’ve been taking [Drug #3 ] for eight months? Have you noticed your symptoms improving?”

Me: “A little, I guess. I think it’s hard to tell because I’ve been so tired lately. I know that that’s not supposed to be a side effect for [Drug #3 ], but I’ve been making sure I get enough sleep and it’s still a problem.”

Doctor #2 : “You noticed you were becoming tired after you started [Drug #3 ]? You know, just because something isn’t one of the listed side effects, it doesn’t mean it can’t possibly happen. So that’s made it hard for you to tell if your symptoms are improving?”

I’m encouraged that he hasn’t just dismissed me.

Me: “Yes, definitely. And the headaches. They’ve been so bad that I can’t focus at all sometimes.”

Doctor #2 : *Taking notes* “Are those all the side effects you’ve noticed?”

Me: “Well, it doesn’t happen as frequently now, but probably once a week I’ll end up throwing up from the meds.”

Doctor #2 : “Once a week isn’t frequent?”

Me: “It used to be almost every day. My old doctor said it was just my body adjusting to the medication.”

Doctor #2 : “How long did that go on?”

Me: “The first few months? When I first started, I’d be sick throughout the day, but after a while, it would just happen right after I took the pills. Now, though, I’m usually just nauseous for a while, but sometimes that gets so bad that I need to lie down.”

Doctor #2 : “So, we’ve got drowsiness, nausea, and headaches. Anything else?”

Me: “No. The only other weird reaction was when I drank, which I found out I wasn’t supposed to do.”

Doctor #2 : “Not supposed to drink?”

Me: “Yeah, my other doctor told me afterward about how it can be deadly, so losing some of my equilibrium seems like a fair trade-off since that’s the only bad thing that happened.”

Doctor #2 : “There are warnings about drinking on [Drug #3 ] because it can increase the effects of alcohol on your system, but the only life-threatening concerns are for binge drinkers, because [Drug #3 ] could exacerbate liver damage. Your doctor told you drinking on [Drug #3 ] was prohibited?”

Me: “She basically told me that it would be fatal.”

Doctor #2 : “All right. Well, first of all, that’s not true. Second, since you’re having such bad side effects from [Drug #3 ] and you haven’t noticed much improvement, I’d recommend switching medications, all right?”

He ended up prescribing me [Drug #2 ], the same drug that I requested from my first doctor during our first appointment. It’s been a month, and all the drowsiness, nausea, and headaches are gone, along with a lot of my initial symptoms. Let this be a warning: if your doctor refuses to work with you to find an acceptable course of treatment and you have any other options at all, explore them! An MD doesn’t always mean that the doctor knows best.

You Should Warm Up Before A Stretch Like That
Doctor/Physician, England, Ignoring & Inattentive, Medical Office, UK | Healthy | July 1, 2021
I am, by my own admission, rather overweight. I also have very painful periods, so I end up going on birth control to regulate them. As I am overweight, I have to get a blood pressure check every six months before I can get another prescription, so I’ve signed up with the University Doctors’ Surgery while I am studying at the other end of the country.

It’s a hot summer’s day when I come in for this appointment, and I’m wearing a short-sleeved shirt. As my appointment is deemed low-priority, I get assigned to whichever doctor is available, so I haven’t seen this doctor before.

After taking my blood pressure and removing the cuff, he spots some marks on my arms.

Doctor: “How long have you had those?”

Me: “Not sure. Maybe about a year?”

Doctor: “And you didn’t think of mentioning them before?”

Me: “I didn’t think they were a problem. Are they?”

Doctor: “They look like symptoms of excessive cortisol. It would explain why you have so much excess weight. If they are still there in six months, let us know. They’ll probably have to do brain surgery to fix it.”

Me: *Internally* “WHAT?!”

Me: *Externally* “Okay?”

I don’t deal with this news very well. My hair is the one feature I like about myself, and it seems like a massive thing, so I just go into denial and cover up the marks on my arms.

I’m still doing this when I go home for the holidays, even though it’s getting hotter, and my nan — who was a nurse before she retired — pulls me aside one day.

Nan: “Aren’t you hot in that, [My Name]?”

Me: “Yeah, but it’s okay.”

Nan: “You must be boiling!”

She keeps badgering me until I blurt out the whole story. She looks sceptical.

Nan: “Can I take a look at these marks?”

Reluctantly, I take off my jumper, and she looks at them for two seconds.

Nan: “When you go back for your next appointment, go to any other doctor; don’t go back to that moron. He’s seeing zebras.”

Me: “Huh? What do you mean?”

Nan: “Those are f****** stretch marks.”

So, six months of worry because a doctor didn’t recognise stretch marks. Great!

Isn’t Therapy Supposed To Be Therapeutic?
Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Jerk, Medical Office, Sweden | Healthy | June 30, 2021
I have been overweight for my entire life. It’s something I’ve come to terms with, and I don’t consider it to be the end of the world as long as it doesn’t prevent me from keeping an active lifestyle. I did a lot of damage to my body and psyche dieting in my youth and I don’t want to revisit those times, instead preferring to be as healthy as I can at the weight I happen to be at for the moment.

I also suffer from hypermobile joints. They make me overly flexible and occasionally give me pretty bad joint and muscle pain from overstraining them. They also put some limits on how physically active I can be, and I have to factor in recovery time every time I do something physically demanding. Again, I don’t consider it the end of the world, and after twenty years, I have a pretty good idea of how my body works and what I need to do to take care of myself.

I recently moved to a new town and have to deal with the hassle of finding a new physical therapist. I’ve put it off for too long, but after an intense period of getting my home in order and lifting heavy things, I can feel that I’ve overdone it and that I might need to change my PT routine a bit. I ask around, get a few recommendations, and make an appointment with a physical therapist who’s supposed to be an expert on my type of troubles. We have public healthcare in Sweden and this PT falls under that.

I’ve had a lot of bad experiences with members of the medical profession in the past, so whenever I meet someone new, I tell them that unless my weight is the direct cause of whatever medical issue I’m having at the time, I’d prefer not to discuss it.

Therapist: “Of course. Why don’t you tell me a little about what you’re dealing with?”

Me: “I recently moved into a new apartment and I’ve been carrying a lot of heavy boxes up and down the stairs, so my knees and shoulders are worse than usual, and my right hip is making this weird clicking sound that it hasn’t been doing before.”

Therapist: “Do you have an exercise program?”

Me: “Yes, I brought it with me. That’s my main reason for coming here. I want to know if there are any easier versions of these exercises that I can do while I wait for the pain to get better? I know I need to rest for a few weeks, but I don’t want to stop working out entirely.”

Therapist: *Looks at my program* “Oh, no, this won’t do at all. I’m going to give you some new exercises. How often do you do this program?”

Me: “I do the full one three times a week, and a shortened version every morning.”

The therapist shakes her head and starts compiling new exercises.

Therapist: “All right. You need to do this full program every day. We’ll go over to the gym and I’ll show them to you later. Now, I’d like to discuss your diet.”

I look at the program and I immediately see that this is not going to work for me. I asked for a lighter version of my normal program, but she’s given me a much tougher one and added several new exercises, including push-ups, which my last PT explicitly forbade me to do, ever, because my wrists can’t take it.

Me: “Sorry, I don’t think this is going to work. This whole program is going to take over an hour. I don’t have that much time every day. It’s also going to put too much strain on my joints, which are already hurting. That’s what I came here for!”

Therapist: “Well, honey, I know you don’t want to hear this, but your BMI is way too high. Unless you lose weight, you’re never going to get rid of the pain. I want you to do this program every day and add in at least thirty minutes of cardio every day, and now we’re going to talk about your diet. How often do you eat fast food?”

Me: *A little stunned* “Um, sometimes, I guess. But I prefer to cook for myself. Sorry, I think I said at the beginning of this appointment that I don’t want to discuss my weight.”

Therapist: “Yes, I understand that it makes you feel uncomfortable, but you need to face facts, honey. You can’t sit on your couch and eat fast food all day. You need to lose at least thirty kg or your pain is just going to get worse. How often do you eat vegetables? You know broccoli is very good for you, right? You need to eat more broccoli.”

Me: “I eat vegetables every day; I’m practically a vegetarian. Look, I know my weight doesn’t help matters, but I’m here because I’m in pain now, because I’ve overstrained myself, and I want to do something to make it better now, not in some kind of hypothetical future where I’ve magically lost thirty kg by eating broccoli. Can you help me with that or not?”

Therapist: “Honey, I can’t help you if you don’t want to help yourself. I’m telling you this for your own good.”

Me: “I am aware that I am overweight. I have been overweight my whole life. I’m not here because I’m overweight. I’m here because I have overstrained my hypermobile joints, and your solution to my problem is to overstrain them even more?”

Therapist: “I know it’s hard to hear, but you need to take better care of yourself. I want to help you do that, but you need to put the work in yourself!”

At this point, I realised that there was no way I would get through to this woman, so I just stood up and left.

I didn’t really feel like making a new appointment with another physical therapist after that, so in the end I just ended up modifying my exercise program myself, and after a few weeks of active rest, I could go back to my normal routine. I’m still overweight, I still have hyper-mobile joints, and eating broccoli (which I do quite often because it’s delicious) hasn’t cured me.

A Mother-In-Law So Sweet She’ll Give You Diabetes
Doctor/Physician, In-Laws, Medical Office, The Netherlands | Healthy | June 21, 2021
I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes when I was five months pregnant. My OBGYN referred me to a dietitian for a consultation. I went with my mother-in-law since the office is hard to reach with public transport.

During the consultation, my mother-in-law kept telling the dietitian that I always eat a lot of rice, noodles, and Asian food in general that has high sugar levels. She’s not completely wrong, but I am also okay with switching to a low-carb, low-sugar diet. Then, my mother-in-law suggested that I eat at her place more often since she always eats healthy. My dietitian seemed happy, and I just said yes to keep the consultation going.

Fast forward to the next consultation with my dietitian, one month later, the week after Christmas. This time, I went with my husband.

Dietitian: “Hi! How was your Christmas?”

Me: “It was good. We celebrated at his parents’ place. My mother-in-law always prepares the Christmas dinner.”

Dietitian: “Were you able to keep your blood sugar level low and stable?”

Me: “Yes. The highest was 6.2, and it was after a slice of pie.”

Dietitian: “Oh, good! What did you eat other than that?”

Me: “I knew I wanted the pie, so I skipped the mashed potatoes and only ate the roast beef and beans. I skipped the sauce and compote. I also only ate a small slice of pie.”

Dietitian: “Didn’t your mother-in-law say that she always cooks healthy?”

Husband: “Ignore her. She always says that, but then always cooks mashed potatoes with gravy, salad with tons of dressing, and prepackaged juice.”

Dietitian: “Oh.”

I love my husband and how realistic he is about everything

Not Healthy, Not Working, And So Not Okay
Bosses & Owners, Doctor/Physician, Medical Office, Patients, USA | Healthy | June 19, 2021
My family has a history of anxiety, depression, and OCD. I have had anxiety my entire life and it seems to have manifested as early as three years old, but I’ve never really needed medication for it as I coped with meditation and therapy. I had some slight OCD tendencies but compared to my sister and grandmother I never really thought I had it because it wasn’t “that bad”.

I also developed PTSD during the global health crisis because my boss at the time isolated me and wouldn’t let me speak to any of my coworkers and generally refused to let me do my job while screaming at me for two to four hours a day about how we need to do our jobs. Basically, she threatened me with my job during a global health crisis, while going out of her way to make it so I couldn’t do my job, to cover up her own inadequacies.

After experiencing symptoms six months later, I finally go to a psychiatrist, who diagnoses me. I later go to see a doctor, as being stressed out for so long can affect your physical health and I want to get fully better.

General Practitioner: “So, any new medication since we last spoke?”

Me: “Actually, yes, I am on 20 mg of fluoxetine.”

General Practitioner: “What are you taking it for?”

Me: “Anxiety… and depression… and OCD… and PTSD.”

General Practitioner: “…”

Me: “It is a h*** of a drug.”

Quacktose Intolerant
Bizarre, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Liars/Scammers, Medical Office, UK | Healthy | May 24, 2021
When I am a teenager, I have pain in my abdomen. After six months of running around different departments, it is established that I could be lactose intolerant.

Doctor: “I suggest you visit a dietitian to make sure everything goes okay as you cut milk out of your diet. Try [Dietitian] right here in the hospital.”

My mother and I agree. Red flags should have been apparent from the beginning.

We call to make the appointment.

Dietitian: “Do you want to be seen at the hospital or at my house? There are more options if I see you in my home.”

After verifying with our health insurance that they will accept this appointment and pay, my mother agrees to the appointment for me.

Dietitian: “Please bring along the pain meds that you have been taking and the soy milk you have replaced the regular milk with.”

On the day of the appointment, we sit down in what appears to be the dietitian’s living room. The dietitian gestures to something on the table.

Dietitian: “This is the Asyra machine which will measure your bioenergy field to establish what you can and can’t tolerate in your diet.”

I am doing my A-levels at this point with the hope of going to study veterinary medicine, and this sounds like nonsense to me, but being British and too polite to stop her, I allow her to carry on. She gets me to hold these electrodes which, apparently, is all I need to do.

My mother helpfully intervenes.

Mother: “But they are not plugged in.”

Confidence going down by the second, I do as asked and the machine starts to generate a wiggly line. As we go on, the dietitian starts going on about how, “The machine thinks this,” or, “The machine knows that,” making it seem that this machine is alive. Eyebrows continue to rise.

Her analysis says that I should be fine with milk but I should really avoid eggs and onions, which I know is complete rubbish as I have been on an exclusion diet for a couple of months and recently reintroduced eggs and onions into my diet with no issues at all.

Dietitian: “Can I test the milk and pills you brought along so I can see if they’re good for you?”

She first decides to test the soy milk, which is in a carton containing plastic which, as many primary school pupils will tell you, does not conduct electricity. She places the carton on top of a metal plate and runs the machine. She is horrified by the result.

Dietitian: “You should stop drinking this immediately; it is terrible for your system!”

Me: *Politely* “I’ve been drinking this milk for about three months and I have been feeling much better since then.”

She frowns for a second, trying to reconcile this.

Dietitian: “Well, the machine is calibrated to American soy milk, so maybe you can drink British soy milk without issues. Try to avoid it if you are in the States.”

“WTF?!” does not cover our thoughts at this point.

She moves onto my pain meds. I have two I am using and I have them in the same box for convenience. Again, the woman takes the box and plonks it on the plate.

Mother: “There are two in the box.”

She regrets saying this immediately. The dietitian sorts between the two and repeats the process. According to the machine, one is good and one won’t work for me. I do seem to be becoming slightly immune to one, so this seems correct, but she got them the wrong way around.

Now comes the sales pitch: apparently, the machine is telling her that my gut pH is too low and this needs to be rectified with probiotics. Normally, the bottle for a month would cost £200, but she is willing to give me a sample bottle for free. We accept without arguing, for simplicity.

Dietitian: “Do you have any questions?”

Me: “I’m really missing chocolate. When can I add that back into my diet?”

Dietitian: “You will have no issues with chocolate and can start eating it immediately.”

This is completely at odds with my exclusion diet. Basically, if I add more than one thing a week, I have to wait two weeks for any symptoms to clear before starting to add things again, possibly from scratch. Not going to happen.

We leave and I think there are two seconds of silence in the car before my mum and I burst out laughing.

Sometime later, we receive the report. Nowhere does it mention milk. In the meantime, I have taken a lactose tolerant test and it turns out I am about as intolerant as it is possible to be. Another highlight of the report is that radon gas — that radioactive gas that causes neighborhood evacuations when leaks are detected — is better for me than… carrots.

We turn to the hospital and complain about this woman and her quackery. However, they won’t do anything as the appointment occurred outside the hospital and they are not responsible, even though their doctor recommended her and she is an employee of the hospital. We also have a two-month battle with the insurance for them to pay her, even though they said they would before we went.

As a final note, we looked up this Asyra machine online. It turns out that in the US (and the UK), it is only licensed to measure skin resistance, and if it is used to measure anything else in the US, you can sue the doctor.

It was all a complete and utter waste of time, but it gave me a good story.

Needs To Night-Shift Their Opinion
Birmingham, Doctor/Physician, England, Jerk, Parents/Guardians, Pub, UK | Right | May 15, 2021
My brother and I are functionally nocturnal. We sleep at 10:00 am and wake at 4:00 pm. After a stressful night at work, the two of us find a pub and buy some drinks. As the weather is nice, we decide to sit outside while we drink.

A woman passes by with a bunch of young children. She sees us and points us out to her children.

Woman: *Pointing at us* “Disgraceful. It’s not even eight. Drinking at this hour. Kids, make sure you don’t become like them. You all must study hard and not be drunk deadbeats like them.”

Me: “Ma’am, really? You don’t want your kids to become doctors? Okay.”

Brother: “Pity. We need more surgeons on the night shift. Accidents can happen at any hour.”

Me: “Like that old man that had a stroke at 4:00 am?”

Brother: “Or that drunk driver that crashed at 2:00 am?”

Me: “Whatever. Kids, if your mom doesn’t want you to save lives, then who am I to complain?”

As we speak, we pull out our staff lanyards for the local hospital, grin, and knock our bottles together. Admittedly, we are a bit drunk by now, which is why we are being so unprofessional.

Woman: “Don’t listen to them, kids. They’re liars and drunks and a disgrace to society.” *Drags them away*

Back Pain Sufferers, There Is Hope!
Awesome, Doctor/Physician, Florida, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | May 6, 2021
I’m twenty. For the past few months, I’ve been getting experience in my major field by working long hours in a lab, counting out microscopic worms on Petri dishes. It’s not difficult or too taxing, but I’ve noticed lately that the way I have to sit to reach the scopes has triggered some lower back pain around the center of my hips. I try to ignore it for about three weeks, as my father just laughs when I mention it and I’m worried that my doctor, the pediatrician I’ve seen since birth, will do the same because of my young age and lack of strenuous activity.

It gets to the point that I can barely walk and every few seconds, a shooting pain jumps down from my back to the front of my knee. It’s beyond anything I’ve ever felt, before or since. The spasms keep me at night, and when I wake up one morning to discover that I can’t lean forward or backward more than a few millimeters, I finally go in to see the doctor. As my main doctor isn’t in that day, I’m paired with a new doctor in the practice I’ve never met before. She’s much younger than the others I’ve seen and is incredibly pleasant.

Doctor: “So, I’ve heard you’ve been having back spasms?”

Me: “Yeah. I know, I know, I’m too young to have a back problem. I haven’t had any big jolts to the system or anything, nothing more stressful than sitting in a lab all day, but no matter what I do, I can’t shake this. I didn’t want to bother you guys during the flu season with what’s probably just a stupid pulled muscle but I haven’t slept for two nights now. Laying down or sitting up seems to make it worse, and the over-the-counter painkillers don’t put a dent in it.”

Doctor: “Hey, it’s no problem at all! In fact, I wish you had come in a bit sooner! Back spasms can be really serious, so let’s see if we can figure this out.”

The doctor chats with me about what I’ve done so far to ease the pain and what showed any improvement or made it worse and puts me through some simple range of movement exercises

Doctor: “Okay, I’m going to do a few little tests that should confirm my suspicions about this. I’m going to be putting my thumbs at those little dimples you get at your lower back, okay? Just tell me if it hurts, and which side hurts most.”

I feel something akin to a nail being driven into the area she’s touching.

Me: “Holy moth— Left! Left side! Haha, ouch, Doc.”

Doctor: “Sorry! Sorry, just one more. Pop up there, lay down, and cross your right ankle over your left knee.”

When I lay down, my entire pelvis should be an inch closer to the ground than it is, and I mention it to her.

Doctor: “That’s normal if this last one gives us a positive sign. When I push down on your right knee here, is there—”

Me: “Pain?! Yes. Yes, there is.”

Doctor: “Positive sign! With how long you’ve let this go, it may be too tight for me to fix this here without you doing some home stretches first, but I’ll give it a shot if you’d like?”

Me: “Please, yes. Anything. Feed me to a lion if it would make this stop hurting so much.”

The doctor moves my left leg off the table to hang down the side and shifts my body so my hip also hangs off and instructs me to push up against her downward force on my left knee. My pelvic area makes an ungodly loud cracking sound that can probably be heard in the lobby as it feels like my entire pelvis drops down that missing inch. I fully expect extreme pain.

Me: “AAAGH— Oh, hang on.”

I sit up without difficulty.

Me: “Holy crap. It’s a little sore, but holy crap! You’re a miracle worker! What did you do?! I could kiss you right now!”

Doctor: *Laughing* “I put your sacroiliac joint back in alignment. It’s common for women to have problems with it, though it’s usually after childbirth or an impact accident like a car crash.”

Me: “Yeesh, no chance of that here, and I’ve never been in a wreck.”

Doctor: “Well, it’s unusual, but long periods of sitting in some positions can stress the ligaments and allow the joint to move out of alignment bit by bit. Please, if it ever starts to flare up again, don’t wait so long to come in! It should be manageable with targeted stretching exercises, and I’ll grab you our printout of the ones that should help, but don’t let it get this out of control next time!”

The next day, after a very good night’s sleep, I wrote two letters: one to the head of the clinic commending the doctor for her quick diagnosis and solution, and another to the doctor herself thanking her profusely for taking me seriously right off the bat and being so delightfully friendly during the whole appointment, despite it being a last-minute walk-in. I delivered them with snacks and chocolates for the staff and thoroughly enjoyed showing them how I could once again move without pain. I had to leave their practice once I aged out earlier this year, but I’ve never had a better experience with any other doctor.

What A Bunny Misunderstanding
Doctor/Physician, El Paso, Funny, Restaurant, Texas, USA | Healthy | April 23, 2021
This happened when I was in high school in the 1970s. We had just finished our production of “Harvey” and had gone to the local twenty-four-hour chain restaurant. We were all still in costume and, as I played the sanitarium assistant, I was wearing what appeared to be medical-type clothing. As I walked into the restaurant, a little behind my fellow cast members, a guy came up to me.

Guy: “Is everyone in the accident all right?”

I had no clue why he asked me that, so I just looked at him and said:

Me: “I don’t know.”

And I went to join everybody.

As I sat down, I noticed that there were cops and an ambulance a few blocks down the street. That’s when it hit me: he thought I was a real ambulance attendant!

I can only imagine what he thought, a first responder going into a restaurant when there were injured people to deal with. My other thought was, “I’m sixteen; do I look like an adult to you?”

My fellow cast members thought it was funny

Forgot Her HIPAA-Cratic Oath
Call Center, Doctor/Physician, Florida, Insurance, Jerk, USA | Right | April 21, 2021
I’m a provider phone representative for an insurance company. I take calls from providers’ offices verifying benefits and claim status for their patients. Usually, you’re talking to the people at the front desk, almost never the doctors, but today I get a call from an actual doctor. After I verify her tax ID:

Doctor: “I’d like to check benefits for a patient, [Patient].”

Me: “Sure! Could I have his member ID, please?”

Doctor: “It’s [ID].”

The patient doesn’t come up. I ask her to spell his name, and I try looking him up that way. No matter what I do, I can’t find him. This doctor is losing her mind.

Me: “Are you sure he’s with [Our Company]?”

Doctor: “I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS! YES, HE IS! HOW CAN YOU NOT BE ABLE TO FIND HIM?!”

Me: “Doctor [Last Name], I’ve tried everything, and he’s just not found. I don’t know what else to tell you other than speak to him.”

The doctor rants and raves for another minute, and then, abruptly:

Doctor: “Wait, is this [Other Health Insurance Company]?”

Me: “No, this is [Our Company].”

Doctor: “Oh. I called the wrong insurance.” *Click*

No apology for her mistake or her behavior. Bearing her tantrum and wonderful listening skills in mind — I had TOLD her what insurance company she had called — it was more than a little ironic that she was a psychologist. Doctor, heal thyself.

The Squeaky Migraine Gets The Grease
Awesome, Current Events, Doctor/Physician, Medical Office, USA, Vancouver, Washington | Healthy | March 25, 2021
Despite the fact that I’m at very high risk of death from a certain health-crisis-related illness, I’m unable to get a vaccine since my state has not prioritized people like me. I complain about this to anyone who brings it up.

Upon the third day of waking up with a migraine, I go to urgent care where there is also a vaccine site. For their records, they ask if I’ve gotten the vaccine yet. I proceed with my usual rant about it even though I feel terrible. After two different injections for the migraine, I finally feel better and go home.

That afternoon the physician’s assistant I saw earlier calls me. The vaccine clinic has extra doses and she offers to hold one for me if I can be there in half an hour. Of course, I say yes and race back there.

And that’s the story of my two visits to urgent care in one day, three shots, a very nice and caring PA, and the only time I’ve ever been happy to have a three-day migraine.