Holistic Medicine and the Western Medical Tradition

Ovaries: The Biggest Threat To A Medical Degree
AUSTRALIA, BIGOTRY, MEDICAL OFFICE, PATIENTS | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 8, 2019
(I am in a waiting room at the medical centre. A female doctor calls a man’s name.)

Male Patient: *to receptionist* “Hey, that’s a woman doctor!”

Receptionist: “Yes, and it’s her first day, so we’re letting her practice on you.”

Male Patient: “Hmph. I didn’t come here for no woman doctor.” *leaves*

Bloodshot
HOSPITAL, NORTH CAROLINA, NURSES, PATIENTS, USA | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 7, 2019
(I’m pregnant with my daughter and at the hospital to have labor induced. The nurse is going over final checks and running down how the birthing is going to — ideally — go.)

Nurse: “We may need to give you a blood transfusion if you bleed too much. Let me explain the benefits–”

Me: “Approved. B+.”

Nurse: “Um… Okay… Sign this form.”

(We go through some other routine stuff and get to treating the baby after she’s born.)

Nurse: “It’s standard to give a Hep B and Vitamin K shot to the baby. You don’t have to, of course, but the benefits are…”

Me: “Do it. All the shots.”

Nurse: “Oh, thank God!”

(She caught herself and apologized for her breach of bedside manner. We have a few religious sects in the area that are anti-transfusion and anti-vax, so I can imagine the pushback she got day-to-day. I laughed and explained that we are a “science” family and the awkwardness melted away. The rest of the checks and forms were done relatively quickly now that the nurse knew she didn’t have to sell me on everything. The birth went mostly smoothly and my daughter is now a healthy fifteen-month-old.)

Happens All The Bloody Time
BLOOD DONATION, DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, HEALTH & BODY, USA, WASHINGTON | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 5, 2019
(I donate blood about every two months, provided that I’m healthy enough to do so. One thing the blood bank screens for is anemia: my hematocrit has to be 38 or higher to donate and not become anemic from it. Hematocrit in the low 30s is anemic; around mid-20s you’d probably need a transfusion yourself. But some time in the last eight weeks, the blood bank switched to testing hemoglobin instead, the minimum donation number for which is 12.5. I didn’t know it was a new test.)

Phlebotomist: “Okay, your temperature, blood pressure, and pulse look good. Let’s test your iron.” *pricks my finger, takes a few drops of blood, and puts them in the tester* “You’re testing at 12.6.”

Me: “My hematocrit is 12.6? Should I go to the hospital?”

Phlebotomist: “What? Why? Oh! No, your hemoglobin is 12.6, which for our purposes is equivalent to a 39 hematocrit. You’re fine to donate. If you had a 12.6 hematocrit, you’d be unconscious at least. I’d be calling an ambulance… or a hearse.”

They’ll Be Tongue-Wagging About This For A While
DENTIST, PATIENTS, SILLY, USA | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 3, 2019
(It’s my first visit to the dentist in over ten years, and I tell the doctor that. What she doesn’t know is that I’m very nervous. The last time I was at a dentist, I was 15 and the doctor didn’t put in any anesthesia and drilled into my tooth. It was excruciating and I was crying a lot, and he didn’t seem to care. In fact, he seemed used to crying in his office. Anyway, I decide to bite the bullet and go for a checkup with a woman doctor, hoping she’ll be more sensitive. She finds three cavities, much to my dismay. She actually uses novocaine, and my gum is all properly numbed. However, I suffer from anxiety, so when she’s drilling my tooth, I can’t help but picture her slipping and drilling into my TONGUE, instead. This gives my tongue a mind of its own. It starts trying to escape, wiggling all about, trying to pull itself free and out! I can feel it moving, but the harder I try to stop it — since I don’t want to weird her out — the more it tries. Finally, she stops.)

Doctor: “You don’t have to wiggle your tongue around that much you know. Just try to keep it still.”

Me: “Sorry. I’ll try.”

(And I did, but I could still feel it moving. Finally, she was done and I zipped out of there to pay. I could tell she was relieved, too, and probably told her husband about my crazy tongue!)

A Sick Fantasy
AUSTRALIA, CHILDREN, COWORKERS, DAYCARE, NEW SOUTH WALES, REVOLTING | HEALTHY | OCTOBER 1, 2019
(I work in a childcare centre. Every ten minutes we have to check on the sleeping children in the nursery to make sure they are still alive and breathing. A coworker who is quiet, sweet, and very unsure of herself does the check and comes out of one of the cot rooms to say

Coworker: “[Child] has thrown up a little.”

Me: “Oh, okay. Do you want to clean it up, or do the washing up I was about to do and let me clean it up?”

Coworker: “Ah, I’d like to do the washing up if you don’t mind.”

Me: “Sure thing.”

(I go grab what I will need –gloves, washcloths, bag for clothes, etc. — and walk into the room. The child has projectile vomited in her sleep; it is EVERYWHERE and the child is still asleep. The sheets need to be thrown out, the cot has to be disinfected, and the child needs a bath — it is in her hair and in her socks. I walk up to that coworker later.)

Me: “Um, [Coworker]…”

Coworker: “Yes?”

Me: “You led me down a bit of a fantasy there by saying it was a little bit of vomit.”

(She and the other coworkers in the staff room lost it with laughter.)

Infarction Infraction
AMUSEMENT PARK, BAD BEHAVIOR, FLORIDA, NURSES, ORLANDO, STRANGERS, USA | HEALTHY | SEPTEMBER 29, 2019
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

(I am on vacation with my family, and my fianceé and I have gone to one of several theme parks in the area. I have a medical condition that can cause severe heart palpitations, which can cause me to lose consciousness for a few minutes. We are standing in line for a ride when I begin to feel off; I know I’m about to have a bad episode and I tell my fianceé that I need to sit down. She understands and helps me get out of line, but we don’t make it far before I lose consciousness. As I am taller than she is — I’m 6’4” and she is 5’3” — she is unable to help me once I’m out and I fall to the ground. I wake up a few minutes later to the sound of my fianceé arguing with someone I don’t know.)

Fiancé: “Stop touching him like that! He doesn’t need CPR!”

Woman: “Of course he does! I’m a nurse and I know what a heart attack looks like!”

Me: *still very dazed* “What’s going on?”

(As I try to sit up, I’m forced back down onto the concrete.)

Fiancé: “Enough! Heart palpitations and heart attacks may look similar but they aren’t! If he was having a heart attack, he’d have the classic symptoms! He passed out because he has [specific medical condition]! Look at his medical alert bracelet, for f***’s sake!”

Woman: “People who have [specific medical condition] usually have an alert dog, and he doesn’t. Now let someone with actual medical training work!” *turns to me* “Now, son, you’re having a heart attack. I need you to calm your breathing down and–”

(By now, I’ve regained consciousness enough to know what is going on. I am still dazed, as I usually am after an episode, but I know this woman is full of it.)

Me: *sits up slowly, glaring at the woman before raising my medical alert bracelet* “I have [specific medical condition]. We are on holiday and I couldn’t bring my alert dog with me because she didn’t get her shots in time. Now, if you would kindly f*** off, all I want is some water and ice because I smacked my head when I fell.”

Woman: “How dare you speak to me like that?! I know what’s best for you! I’m a nurse!”

Me: “With all respect, kindly go f*** yourself. Any nurse would know the difference between palpitations and an infarction. I don’t know who you are, but if you try to do anything to me, I’m getting someone to call security and I’ll press charges.”

(The woman proceeded to yell, “I’m a nurse! I know what I’m doing!” and continued to scold my fianceé and me for “lying.” Security was called — by pro staff — and she was escorted away.)

A Very Testing Medical Appointment
AUSTRALIA, DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, MEDICAL OFFICE | HEALTHY | MAY 9, 2019
Doctor: “This next test is very dangerous for fetuses, so we need to test and make sure you’re not pregnant first.”

Me: “I’m not pregnant.”

Doctor: “Well, sometimes people don’t know that they are.”

Me: “Didn’t we just establish that I have a birth control insert in place to control my period?”

Doctor: “Those aren’t 100% reliable. We need a test.”

Me: “I’m not sexually active. At all. Ever.”

Doctor: *suddenly perplexed* “But you have an insert.”

Me: “Because without it I bled for ten weeks straight out of every twelve for two years. Because I have POCS. Which is why we just spent half this appointment reviewing my last blood results.”

Doctor: “Oh. Right. I forgot.”

Me: “So, can we move onto that test now?”

Doctor: “Which test were you thinking of?”

Me: “…”

Doctor: “…”

Me: “I’m your last appointment at the end of your shift, aren’t I?”

Doctor: *surprised* “How could you possibly know that?”

Doesn’t Have An Eye For This Job
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, IRELAND, VET | HEALTHY | MAY 8, 2019
My friends found a kitten when stuck in traffic a few years ago. He had a very badly infected eye, and after adopting him we opted to have it removed; the lid was stitched shut over the socket, and apart from some minor depth perception issues it never bothered him in the slightest in the three years he lived afterward. He was famous among friends, family, and neighbours for being the one-eyed tabby cat, so it was pretty obviously gone.

We always saw the same vet for every appointment and surgery, until his last yearly checkup and vaccinations. The vet we saw was either newly-trained or inexperienced, but fairly competent at what she did because that cat was never as quiet during a check-up!

Everything was going fine; weight was optimal, good overall condition, no unusual lumps or bumps, clean ears and teeth, right eye perfect… and then she tried to open his sewn-shut eyelid.

She was very apologetic to humans and cat alike upon realising her mistake. He was used to kids poking at him, but it still makes me giggle to think of her not noticing his one distinguishing feature.

A Stroke Of Bad Luck
BAD BEHAVIOR, DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, HOSPITAL, OREGON, USA | HEALTHY | MAY 8, 2019
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

(While clocking into work, I unexpectedly suffer a stroke. I am a 35-year-old school bus driver and I do not take illegal drugs or drink alcohol. As the EMTs bring me into the ER, the doctor asks what my condition is.)

EMT: “She’s having a stroke.”

Doctor: “Nonsense. She’s too young. How old is she?”

EMT: “35.”

Doctor: “See, too young. Must be a drug overdose.”

EMT: “No, do the FAST test. Face; her smile is crooked. Arms; her left side is paralyzed. Speech; her words are slurred. Time; we got her here in time. Give her clot busters to break up the blood clot causing her stroke.”

Doctor: *angrily* “You’re just an EMT! I say it’s a drug overdose!”

(The EMTs leave, and the doctor turns to me, yelling.)

Doctor: “What drugs did you take?!”

Me: *slurred because the left side of my face and tongue are not working* “I can hear you fine; you don’t have to yell. I took some Nyquil last night for a cold.”

Doctor: *sarcastically* “Nyquil?! More like Meth!” *to nurse* “I need a meth overdose kit here!”

Me: *trying to yell back at him* “I. Don’t. Take. Drugs.”

Nurse: *reluctantly bringing kit* “Are you sure? She shows classic stroke signs.”

(As the doctor gets an overdose injection ready, my husband enters the room, having met and talked to the EMTs in the ambulance bay as they were leaving.)

Husband: “Stop. Don’t touch her again.”

Doctor: *sputtering* “She’s obviously a drug addict. I’m giving her the best treatment for that.”

Husband: “And you’re obviously an idiot.”

(My husband and the doctor are circling my gurney during this exchange. The doctor is trying to stay out of my husband’s reach.)

Husband: *to nurse* “Please call for an ambulance; I want her treated at [Hospital ten miles away]. Not by him.” *points at the doctor*

(The doctor practically sprints from room.)

Nurse: *to husband* “I thought you were gonna kill him. I kind of wish you had caught him.”

(The same EMTs returned. As they were loading me into the ambulance they told my husband that they told that doctor I was having a stroke, but he’s kind of a know-it-all a**hole and they were glad I would be treated somewhere else. I was greeted at the other ER by a neurologist with clot-busting drugs at the door. He says that, luckily, that delay won’t impact my recovery.)

Insults Are Free!
JERK, PATIENTS, PENNSYLVANIA, PETS & ANIMALS, PHILADELPHIA, USA, VET | HEALTHY | MAY 8, 2019
I am a relatively new veterinarian. Often, we will get a case come in as ADR — Ain’t Doing Right — which is to say they are acting a bit off, but not always obvious what is wrong. I have an ADR older golden retriever come in with Mom and Son. They give the history: the dog has been losing weight, not eating well, lethargic, and having dark stools for a few weeks. This dog also has a history of ear problems. The last time we saw the dog was over two years ago. They have limited funds, so I try to work on a step-by-step diagnostic to try to get the most information before determining if more diagnostics are needed.

Starting with the physical exam: the dog is severely muscle wasted, lethargic — as they said — and dehydrated, and he has a new heart murmur. After discussing with Mom, we decide to start with bloodwork. It comes up with some very mild liver changes, but nothing too noteworthy. We are at the upper point of their budget, so I discuss my next recommendation of chest x-rays and what we would do depending on what we found, quoting them the costs for everything before anything is performed. They agree to the x-rays, and unfortunately, the x-rays show possible heart enlargement, but again nothing too exciting. So, they agree to try a heart medication, subcutaneous fluids, and an anti-emetic and see how the dog responds. It’s worth noting there were additional tests I would have liked to do, but I didn’t want to stretch their budget too much further.

A few days later, the dog isn’t improving on the heart meds, so I recommend an abdominal ultrasound — at a different vet — to better evaluate the gastrointestinal tract and surrounding organs. Unfortunately, the ultrasound looks like liver cancer, which I am very surprised by given how mild the blood work was.

I receive a request to contact the Father when I return to work the day after the ultrasound. I give him a call back, assuming he wants to discuss further treatment and prognosis. Boy, was I wrong.

Turns out he just wants to spend ten minutes telling me I am a crook, only in it for the money, and don’t care about animals. He continues to tell me that I took advantage of his wife and his upset son, and had them spend more money than they were willing. He rails that the dog was coming in for an ear infection, and I had them do a bunch of unnecessary tests. Any time I try to interject, either to explain my findings and recommendations as he wasn’t there, or to confirm what he thinks happened at the appointment, he simply talks over me, stating he doesn’t care what justifications I have and that “[he] is onto [my] game.” It continues until I am crying against the wall and finally have permission from the practice owner to hang up on him.

The fun part: he calls right back to have my receptionist tell me I am an a**hole. I still have to talk to his (much nicer) wife to answer her questions, and I almost can’t bring myself to do it. As of now, I refuse to discuss anything further with the Father.

Broken History
DENMARK, DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, HOSPITAL, PATIENTS | HEALTHY | MAY 7, 2019
(I fall outside my front door. I still can’t walk on my ankle two days later, and given my rather unfortunate history with broken bones, my parents decide to take me to the hospital to have it x-rayed. I am pretty sure it isn’t broken but better safe than sorry. I have it x-rayed and the doctor comes in with the x-ray picture. She puts it on the wall where we can all see it.)

Doctor: “I don’t think that it is broken, but it is a little hard to tell with all the previous fractures. I sent it to a specialist, just to make sure. If it is broken, we will call you tomorrow.”

Mother: “[My Name] has fortunately only had greenstick fractures so far!”

Doctor: *looks at the big, obvious nick on my bone, then looks at my mum* “No.”

(I cracked up, and the doctor pointed the old break out to my mum. I’d had another fall six months before, but I didn’t bother going to the hospital because I have my own crutches and bandages at home. I had thought it was just a sprain, but apparently not. My ankle was not broken this time, but my parents now take me to the hospital if there’s the slightest chance something is broken.)

Would Face-Palm If You Weren’t Paralyzed
FRIENDS, HOSPITAL, NON-DIALOGUE, PATIENTS, STUPID, UK | HEALTHY | MAY 7, 2019
My daughter is in the ICU suffering from Guillain-Barré syndrome. She is totally paralysed from her eyes to the tips of her toes, being made to breathe via a tracheotomy and a bank of syringe drivers automatically delivering an assortment of high-strength pain relief. A friend comes to visit and I warn her that my daughter is suffering from a bad headache today.

“Oh,” she says, “Have they given her anything for it?”

Both the nurse and I have to look away. Duh!

His Advice Is Neutral At Best
CANADA, DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, IGNORING & INATTENTIVE, LAZY/UNHELPFUL, MANITOBA, VET, WINNIPEG | HEALTHY | MAY 6, 2019
(We have had our cat, Fritz, since he was a tiny kitten, and he’s always seen the same vet. One day, when Fritz is around eight years old, he starts spraying urine against furniture instead of going in his box. Knowing that this could be a symptom of something serious – besides being annoying and gross – I promptly make an appointment for him to see his vet.)

Vet: “Well, we’ve examined his urine for crystals, and he doesn’t have any. That can mean only one thing.” *stares at me accusingly*

Me: *after an expectant pause* “Yes?”

Vet: “You need to get him neutered. Honestly, I don’t know why you haven’t done so yet. He’s eight years old; he should have been neutered years ago.”

Me: “But–”

Vet: “No, I’m serious. This sort of spraying activity is very common in an unneutered male, and–”

Me: “But he is neutered.”

Vet: “What?”

Me: “In fact, you’re the one who did it. We had it done right after we got him from the Humane Society. It should be in his file.”

Vet: *looks at the start of the file* “Oh.”

Me: “So, something else must be causing this behaviour, right?”

Vet: *still processing the fact that he was wrong about Fritz not being fixed* “Well… are there any new cats in the neighbourhood?”

Me: “Come to think of it, yes. Our neighbour across the back lane just got a new cat. Fritz sometimes sees him through the window and hisses at him.”

Vet: “Well, there you go.” *looks at me triumphantly*

Me: “Um, what do you mean?”

Vet: “Fritz is antagonized by that new cat. He’s spraying to assert his dominance in his own home.”

Me: “Okay, so… What do I do?”

Vet: “Do? There’s nothing you can do. Apart from moving, that is!” *laughs*

(Very helpful. I started looking for a new vet after that.)

Needs A Diagnosis That’s A Breath Of Fresh Air
HOUSTON, JERK, LAZY/UNHELPFUL, MEDICAL OFFICE, NURSES, TEXAS, USA | HEALTHY | MAY 6, 2019
(I’ve always had asthma, but I usually only have issues when exercising and breathing very cold air. However, I have an event where I can’t identify a trigger and the breathing problems last for a long time. I go to the emergency room, I am told it was a panic attack and I am sent home. When things don’t clear up, I go to the school clinic where they say it’s my asthma – not a spasm like I am used to, but inflammation – and give me medication. Things clear up. Then, less than a month later, I take an overseas trip. On the flight back I catch a fever and start having stomach issues. A few days later I have to switch out with my father when driving because I don’t feel like I can both drive and focus on breathing. Because it is only a little after New Year’s, my mom doesn’t think our GP can fit us in quickly enough, so we head to an emergency clinic. Our new insurance only allows us to go to one chain in the area, and it’s thirty minutes away. There isn’t a doctor available, so we confirm we are fine with seeing the head nurse. I’m used to journaling some aspects of my health due to things like adult-onset allergies, and have written specifics of the start and stop of the symptoms in a notebook, along with details from the other attack. Sometimes I also have difficulty speaking because I’m focusing on my breathing.)

Mom: “She’s been having trouble breathing. We were here a couple of days ago because she had a stomach bug.”

Nurse: “Can you describe when this started?”

Me: “Um, I noticed I had to focus to breathe. I was really aware of my breathing. It started last night, I guess? Um… I wrote it down, if it’s easier.”

(I hand her the notebook. She looks through it, but she looks skeptical.)

Nurse: “Okay, I know what’s going on here. Honey, you’re having a panic attack.”

Me: “I don’t think it’s a panic attack! It happened before around a month ago. I have asthma—“

Nurse: “The emergency guys thought that was a panic attack, too. Listen, I know you don’t want to hear this, but this is in your brain.”

(This sets me off for multiple reasons, one of which being that I DO have anxiety, but it is controlled and not the kind that results in panic attacks. Another reason is that I’ve been misdiagnosed with “stress pains” by my father’s urologist – checking for kidney stones – when we later found out I had some muscle issues in that area that were easily taken care of with physical therapy. I should also note my mother has been making some comments, but I can’t exactly remember them. She’s mostly worried.)

Me: “But the other doctor said it was asthma! I’ve had people dismiss things like this before. But when it was checked out by someone else they found something. I have anxiety, but I don’t get those! I don’t have this problem!”

Nurse: “So, you just keep going to doctors until they say what you want to hear. But I’m telling you, this is a panic attack. You said in your notes that talking is difficult, but you’re talking fine now. You seem fine. You just need to accept this. Maybe call your therapist or psychiatrist.”

(She ends the appointment. I am pretty hysterical once we return home. I have been well functioning for years and even though I don’t believe the nurse, she put the idea in my head that I wasn’t as well off as I thought. I should also note that my mom is of the generation that often writes things off as stress, and she seems to be taking the nurse’s side, or at least playing devil’s advocate, adding to my stress. I blubber to my mom and eventually my psychiatrist’s hotline. [Psychiatrist] quickly writes a prescription for anxiety, but is very firm in telling me that most of her patients don’t end up using it and that often having it in their possession helps. She also says that if I feel I need it to only take half and assess how I feel. Honestly, I don’t feel any different. Later, my mom apologizes that she helped upset me and calls our GP.)

Mom: “[Doctor] made an opening for you tomorrow… Guess what she said, though, when I told her everything that happened.”

Me: “What?”

Mom: “In her experience, asthmatics usually have panic attacks because they can’t f****** breathe.”

(My GP gave me a steroid inhaler and I started breathing better in a few days. I later went to my asthma and allergy doctor and found out that I have a new severe allergy to dust mites, something that aggravates asthma. F*** you, nurse.)

We Are Literally Off The Charts
BIZARRE, DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, HOSPITAL, USA, WISCONSIN | HEALTHY | MAY 6, 2019
(My father is experiencing severe vertigo, to the point where he can’t even crawl. We are in the ER waiting for his turn at the MRI. My dad is a large man with a beard. A doctor we don’t recognize walks into the room and stops short.)

Doctor: “Um…” *looks at his chart, then at Dad, then at my mom and me* “ Mrs. [Wrong Name]?”

Me: “I think you have the wrong room.”

Doctor: “I think you might be right; none of you look like you’re in labor right now.”

(We all laugh with him over his mistake and he leaves. Dad gets his MRI and is wheeled back in while we wait for the results. The same doctor comes in again.)

Doctor: “Let’s try this again, Mr. [Different Wrong Name]?”

Mom: “Nope.”

Doctor: “Nail through the foot?”

Me: “Wrong room again.”

Doctor: “D*** it. How…?”

(He checks the chart in his hands, then runs out and checks the room number.)

Doctor: “Somebody put the wrong room on the chart.”

(He runs off to find his patient. A while later, the ER doctors have run all the tests they can on Dad and still can’t find a cause. They’ve tentatively diagnosed him with a viral infection and have given him instructions for follow-up. Unfortunately, there is a multi-car pile-up and they suddenly get so busy they can’t spare anyone long enough to do the discharge paperwork. We do our best to stay out of the way. The same doctor comes in again, looks at his chart, then face-palms.)

Doctor: “Okay, none of you are a teenage girl with a broken pelvis! What the h***?!”

Mom: “We’re just such fun people that you’re making excuses to come hang out with us!”

Doctor: *laughing* “That must be it! Right!”

(I know he must have been frustrated, but I think he needed the comic relief as much as we did on that stressful night.)

The Family Tree Is Looking A Bit Sickly
BIZARRE, DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, MEDICAL OFFICE, MINNESOTA, PATIENTS, USA | HEALTHY | MAY 5, 2019
(I’ve got a new doctor and am giving them the rundown on my family history.)

Doctor: “I see on your form that you checked ‘yes’ to all the diseases we have listed. They all run in your family?”

Me: “Yes. I have a very large family and at least one of them has or had at least one of those diseases.”

Doctor: “Even [rare cancer]?”

Me: “Grandma died of it.”

Doctor: “Huh. Who in your family had [disease]?”

Me: “Two of my great aunts on my dad’s side, and my uncle on my mother’s side.”

Doctor: “And your family’s history of cancer… says ‘all’?”

Me: “Doctors never really believe me, but all the cancers you have listed there? Yeah, when I add up my mother’s side of the family and my father’s side, it’s all there.”

Doctor: *open-mouthed shock* “Wow.”

Me: “I get that reaction from doctors a lot.”

(For reference, my grandmother was one of nine kids, my other grandmother was one of eleven, and all of their kids had at least five kids. It’s a big family, and they’ve all had some kind of major medical issue in the past, and most of them work in the medical field. I just tell doctors to check everything when they ask what runs in the family. It saves time.)

Some People Just Can’t Stick Around
BAD BEHAVIOR, BLOOD DONATION, JERK, NURSES, USA | HEALTHY | MAY 4, 2019
(I’m a frequent blood donor. I have large, easy veins, don’t flinch or get queasy around blood or needles, and am known at the clinic, so I often get the least experienced workers. Sometimes the new, nervous ones aren’t the best, but I figure practice makes perfect, and their mistakes — like not being gentle or having a bad angle on the needle — don’t bother me. Usually.)

Tech: “Hi. I’m [Tech] and I’m going to be drawing your blood today.” *continues with the standard script and questions* “Have you donated blood with us before?”

Me: “A few dozen times; I’m here every eight weeks on the dot. How long have you been at [Clinic]?”

Tech: “Today is my first day!”

Me: “Well, congratulations! I’ll make your job really easy, then. I’m well hydrated and have nice, big veins for you.”

(The tech starts prepping the bag and needle, muttering the steps to herself. She somehow manages to poke herself with the needle.)

Tech: “Oh, shoot, I need to go and dispose of this and reglove.”

Me: “No worries. I’m in no rush. Take your time.”

(The tech comes back, looking slightly pale and panicked. I try to smile at her, but she just seems to be getting progressively more flustered. She tries to stick my vein and misses.)

Tech: “Oh, I’m so sorry. Can I try again?”

Me: *smiling again* “Of course, take a few deep breaths and try again.”

(The tech tries again. And again. Then, she drops the needle and has to get another other. The whole time, I’m trying to calm her down as she seems to be upset with herself.)

Me: “Now, I know I’m not officially trained, but I’ve had a lot of needles stuck in me. Slow down a bit. Breath deeply a few times. The vein is right there. You can do this.”

Tech: *mutters quietly but rapidly under her breath while getting paler*

(She tries to stick me three more times, somehow missing my vein every time. Her hands are shaking and she appears on the verge of tears.)

Me: “Hey, it’s okay. This is a tough job. Why don’t we call over one of the more experienced nurses?”

Tech: “No, no, no, I can do this. Really.”

(She proceeds to stick me five more times, at worse and worse angles. I’m slowly losing patience with her. She’s now trying to stick me with a needle that is practically perpendicular to my arm. She still hasn’t been able to actually hit my vein. What is usually a twenty-minute deal has taken almost an hour.)

Me: “Okay. Get a nurse now. They can help you out.”

Tech: “No!”

(She then rather aggressively jams the needle into my arm, hitting a nerve and nowhere near a vein. I swear like a sailor and rip the needle out of my arm.)

Me: “Listen up. I have been beyond patient here. Get me a d*** nurse. Now.”

Tech: “They’re all busy right now!”

Me: “Okay, fine. F*** it.”

(I then insert the needle into my own vein in one go. The tech looks stunned.)

Me: “Hook up the collection bag and then get me a nurse and get the h*** away from me.”

Tech: *in a shrill voice* “You can’t do that! You can’t! You can’t!”

(The head nurse hears the commotion and comes over.)

Nurse: “What is going on over here? [My Name], why are you still here? I checked you in an hour ago!”

Me: “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, [Nurse].”

(The tech was never seen at that clinic again.)

Groundhog Dad
CALIFORNIA, HEALTH & BODY, HOSPITAL, PARENTS/GUARDIANS, PATIENTS, USA | HEALTHY | MAY 3, 2019
(My boyfriend and I are woken up by a phone call at six am from his 15-year-old sister saying, “Something is wrong with Dad; you need to get to the hospital.” We live 100 miles away, so I tell my boyfriend to go now and I will pack a few things and meet him up there. When I get up there I find out he has hydrocephalus, or water on the brain, which is a fairly rare disorder that typically happens to infants and people over 60. My boyfriend’s father is 47. It causes fluid to build up and put pressure on the brain. They release the pressure by removing parts of his skull. The next day, a nurse is in with him and my boyfriend’s mom comes out to talk to us.)

Mom: “They think he’s going to be okay, but right now we either have to sit with him or they have to restrain him. Otherwise, he might hurt himself; he can’t remember what is going on. Can you go sit with him for a while? I need a break.”

(We agree and go in.)

Boyfriend: “Hi, Dad!”

Dad: “Hi… Where am I?”

Boyfriend: “You’re in the hospital; you’re going to be fine. You just got sick and the doctors are going to help you.”

Dad: “Well, that was mighty inconvenient of me.”

Boyfriend: *laughing* “Just a touch.”

(My boyfriend’s father’s head starts to dip and his eyes slide to the side and become unfocused. Then, his head comes back up and he sees us and smiles.)

Dad: “Hi, guys! What are you doing here? Wait. Where am I?”

Boyfriend: *trying not to cry* “Hi, Dad. You’re in the hospital; you’re going to be fine.”

Dad: *laughing* “Well, that was mighty inconvenient of me.”

(Then, his head starts to dip. My boyfriend and I look at each other, both of us trying not to cry.)

Dad: “Hi, guys! What are you doing here?”

(I step over to his bed and take his hand.)

Me: “Hi, Dad. You had a small accident you’re going to be fine.”

(We stayed with him for a couple of hours having the same conversation. I had seen short-term memory loss on TV but thought it was an exaggeration. It’s not. Thankfully, he really was, overall, okay.)

Talking Complete Bull-imia
CHILE, DENTIST, JERK, SANTIAGO | HEALTHY | MAY 3, 2019
(I have recently changed my dentist. I’m 30 and I have never had any cavities before, but I go to a consult since I notice something weird in two of my teeth. I suspect they are cavities but they don’t hurt or bother me at all, and I don’t know what cavities look like.)

Dentist: “You have four cavities! What a disaster!”

Me: “Well, it’s the first four in 30 years.”

Dentist: “This looks so bad! We need x-rays!”

Me: “I’d have come earlier but they didn’t hurt and they look very small, so it took me a while to notice them.”

Dentist: “Four cavities! This is insane! Are you bulimic?”

Me: “No.”

Dentist: “You sure? It clearly looks like bulimia.”

Me: “I’m not bulimic. I’m not alcohol abusive, either; I barely ever throw up.”

(The doctor doesn’t believe me, and sends me to do the x-rays. I come back to have the cavities fixed.)

Dentist: “Are you sure you don’t throw up? This amount of cavities is not normal!”

(By then, I feel filthy. I don’t throw up and I brush my teeth, but the big deal she is making makes it look like I am her worst case in years. She fixes my cavities, which are all very superficial, and I go home pretty worried and thinking about buying a different mouthwash, toothbrush, and toothpaste. My boyfriend is having some friends over and I tell them what happened.)

Friend: “Four in your life? I get four cavities removed every time I go to the dentist!”

Boyfriend: “You can’t see them because they are in the back of my mouth, but I’ve had several big fixes.”

(The following day, two of my four fixes fall out while I’m brushing my teeth. I go to have them re-fixed. The dentist keeps telling me to suck it up, still implying I have an eating disorder. The remaining two fall out within a month, but this time I go to a different professional. I’m already expecting to get yelled at for my poor dental condition.)

Dentist #2 : “Hi, darling! You look good! Let’s fix these, shall we?”

(She is now my usual dentist.)

Eye Don’t Understand What’s Happening Here
DOCTOR/PHYSICIAN, JERK, KENTUCKY, MEDICAL OFFICE, USA | HEALTHY | MAY 3, 2019
(I wear contacts, and I’ve had problems seeing when using my contacts for a while now. It has finally gotten to the point where I can’t stand it and go to the eye doctor to get my prescription checked. A student does the actual exam and finds my new prescription, and I can already tell a difference. She leaves and the actual doctor comes in.)

Doctor: *takes a look at the paperwork the student completed* “Well, it looks like your prescription stayed the same, so you can just order some more of the same contacts.”

Me: *shocked* “Really? I’ve been having double vision and I can’t focus my eyes at a close range very well.”

Doctor: “Nope, it’s the same. Are you sure you’re having problems?”

Me: “Yes, I’ve also been getting headaches from straining my eyes to focus.”

Doctor: *repeats the exam TWICE to find my eye prescription* “Well, I found the same thing she did, which is a slight decrease in prescription in your right eye. This is very unusual since eyesight doesn’t normally get better with time, so I think your prescription should stay the same.”

(We go back and forth a few times; I keep insisting that I need a change. It’s very unusual for me to advocate for myself this much, but I really can’t take the eye strain anymore so I KNOW I can’t stay with the same prescription. He finally agrees to let me try the lower prescription on a trial and come back in two weeks to see how I like it. The trial contacts have to be ordered by the receptionist, and I notice the doctor go around and point to the screen and tell her to “order these instead,” but I don’t think anything of it. I go back in a week when they come in. The receptionist hands me the trial contacts and I have a look at the prescription number.)

Me: *confused and irritated look on my face*

Receptionist: “Is something wrong? You look confused.”

Me: “These are supposed to be trial contacts for a new prescription. Why are they the same as my current contacts?”

Receptionist: *takes the contacts back, looks at her computer and back at the contacts, and starts getting flustered* “Um, I don’t know. Let me look at this…”

(She eventually got a different doctor in the practice to come to look at my file. The other doctor took one look at my file, immediately went to get me the correct contacts — which DIDN’T have to be ordered — and told me to come back and see her instead of the first doctor. At my appointment with her, she told me that my prescription should actually be even lower than the first doctor prescribed. The only conclusion I can come up with is that the first doctor didn’t believe me and was trying to trick me into staying with the same prescription, twice! [Doctor], why was it so hard for you to believe I couldn’t see?!)