(An order comes to my pharmacy for a well-known antibiotic. This antibiotic is known to smell exactly like rotten eggs, so most of us just hold our breath while we count it and try not to think about it too much. We dispense it to a woman who is picking it up for her teenage son. Everything is normal and she leaves with the prescription, but about 10 minutes later she comes stomping back into the pharmacy, pretty much shoves the person that I am currently helping out of the way, and throws the bottle of medication on the counter.)
Customer: “I want to speak to your manager right now! You guys gave me rotten medication!”
Me: “Really? Let me look at the expiration date on your bottle. Normally we don’t keep anything that has one less than a year away.”
(I look at the bottle and see that the pharmacist wrote a date of over a year away, and I go over to our stock bottle and check and the numbers correspond with each other.)
Me: “Hmm. Well, ma’am, it doesn’t look like this medication is expired but I will have the phar—”
Customer: “You are just lying! I mean, come on and open that bottle! It smells totally rotten! I can’t believe that you would ever give someone bad medication! My son is very very ill!”
Me: “Oh, that’s just because the active chemical that is in this medication has a bad smell. Trust me, I wish there was something that we could do about it back here, too. Most of us hold our breath while we count it.”
Customer: “Stop ****** lying to me. You just don’t want to admit you did something wrong! I will have your job for this, b****!
(At this point the pharmacist who has been listening the whole time walks over.)
Pharmacist: “Ma’am, while I don’t like the fact that you are calling my staff names like that I will let you know two things. One is, certain chemicals have a bad smell. It’s just a fact of life. So, while I know that smell is unpleasant, it’s just one of those side effects that come with being able to take medications that will help your sick son. I assure you it’s supposed to smell that bad. If it didn’t, it wouldn’t work right. Two, since you don’t seem to want to listen to my employees and call them awful names, this will be the last time that you or any members of your family can shop or fill any type of medication here. Maybe in the future you can learn how to treat people the way you want to be treated.”
(The woman proceeded to turn bright red with embarrassment and tried to apologize, but my boss wouldn’t hear it. That was almost two years ago and he still will not allow her or her family to fill their prescriptions at his pharmacy.)
Bizarre, Germany, Hospital, Nurses, Patients, Rest In Peace | Healthy | July 18, 2019
My sister was a nurse in the geriatric ward of a hospital. Once, when she was doing the night shift, a patient died in his sleep due to old age. The normal procedure would be to get the bed out of the room on the corridor and someone from pathology would come up and collect it. The problem here was that the patient’s death was noticed around five or six in the morning and pathology had a shift change, so it would take longer as usual for someone to come up.
My sister and the other nurse present were worried that some of the early bird patients would wander the corridor and notice the body, so they decided to move the bed to the nurse’s room. The other nurse went on to respond to a patient’s call and my sister started preparing the morning medications for the patients.
Now, I assume everybody is familiar with rigor mortis? The body getting stiff after death? Well, that’s not a process that happens immediately. It takes some time, sometimes up to two days, until the whole body is stiff.
So, my sister was moving around in the small nurse’s office and preparing the medications, doing what you need to do for that. Occasionally, she would bump into the bed a little bit. Finally, the dead had enough of his disturbed peace and his hand slid out under the blanket, giving my sister a slap right on her backside.
Canada, Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, Nurses, Vancouver | Healthy | July 17, 2019
I have bone conduction hearing issues that I’ve suffered my whole life. It’s hard to explain, but I hear with my bones, which, coupled with my regular ear-hole hearing, means that I am off the charts of any traditional loudness hearing tests. This means that I have a hearing specialist and I have to go every year or so to keep my earplugs current. Inner-ear shape changes with even the slightest weight change. Every time I visit her I’m seen by one of her assistants for the initial consultation and every time she — usually a woman — yells through her questions.
My chart says what I have, but they are so used to yelling to their patients as most of the people they see have the opposite problem to me.
I ask them politely to speak more quietly many, many times each visit, but the volume increases every question they ask.
A few times I try and surreptitiously slip my ever-present earplugs out of my pocket to put them in, but my specialist has asked me not wear them before the physical tests — my hearing is extremely extreme for about 15 minutes after taking them out — but I just can’t be in the room with yellers without them.
To this day, I’ve been searching for a polite way to ask people to talk quieter, but I haven’t found it yet.
Doctor/Physician, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, New York, USA | Healthy | July 16, 2019
(I gave birth to twins several months ago and have since gone back to work. I am struggling a lot with anxiety, inability to focus, and lack of sleep, just having a really hard time in general. I’m not sure who to go to for help as I don’t seem to quite meet the criteria for postpartum depression or anxiety, so I make an appointment with my primary care doctor to see if she can help me figure out who to talk to.)
Me: “I’m just having a really hard time at work and at home, feeling like I’m falling behind at everything. I can’t focus on what I’m doing, and I’m anxious all the time. I just didn’t know who to talk to so I thought I might start with you. I’m really struggling right now.”
Doctor: “I’ll run some blood tests but… I mean, you did just have two babies.” *laughs* “So, I’m not really sure what you expected life to be like right now… Maybe consider finding a new job?”
(I never did get any help from her whatsoever. I am happy to say that my twins are a year old now and that difficult period has since passed.)
Canada, Doctor/Physician, Great Stuff, Hospital, Ontario | Healthy | July 15, 2019
(My seven-year-old son broke his arm. The anesthetist is explaining to us what to expect with the sedative they are going to use before setting the bone.)
Doctor: “Ketamine is a dissociative safe for kids. It puts them in a trance-like state where they can’t feel anything. The pain signals don’t reach the brain. It kind of cuts the head off from the rest of the body.”
My Already Distressed Son: “YOU’RE GOING TO WHAAAAT?!”
England, Hospital, Jerk, London, Patients, UK | Healthy | July 13, 2019
(I am at the blood bank. There are two clinics running simultaneously: one for regular blood tests and another for pregnancy-related blood, linked with the midwife clinic next door. Regular clinic patients have to abide by the ticket system. The midwife patients do not.)
Phlebotomist: “Ms. [My Name], just come through here, please.”
(I stand up to go through to the chair behind the curtain, only to be pushed out of the way by a middle-aged woman.)
Woman: “I’ve been waiting over an hour for a simple blood test and that girl has only been waiting five minutes. You will take my blood now.”
Phlebotomist: “Ma’am. You need to get out of that chair. I can’t take your blood here. You need to wait until you’re called by someone on the other side.”
Woman: “I’m not moving! I’m number 27! I’m next to be called!”
Phlebotomist: “Fair enough. When’s your due date? Have you fasted for two hours for your prenatal diabetes test?”
Woman: “What are you on about? I’m not here for a diabetes check! I’m not pregnant.”
Me: “Well, I am. So get out of that chair!”
Woman: “Well, I never!”
Me: “Lady, this is the midwives’ clinic. You’re in the wrong place!”
Woman: “I’ve been waiting over an hour!”
Phlebotomist: “Well, you’re going to have to wait longer than that. Security is here to take you away. Come back another day, when you’ve calmed down.”
(She was escorted out and I got my blood done. Her number was called as I left the waiting room.)
Michigan, Pets & Animals, Pharmacy, Retail, Rude & Risque, USA | Healthy | July 11, 2019
(One day at work, I hear my pharmacist and another technician talking about an unusual prescription that’s come in. Curious, I switch to a computer nearby and find them discussing a dog who’s been prescribed the generic for Viagra. Apparently, a recent study has indicated that it may be helpful for relieving coughing in dogs, for some reason, and we spend some time discussing how it might work in that regard. Later, as I’m working on the computer and she’s filling prescriptions behind me, she glances up and leans toward me, chuckling.)
Pharmacist: “You know, it’s hard enough for a person to talk to their doctor about this type of medication. I’d think it’d have to be even harder for a dog!”
Me: *playing along* “Well, yeah. Besides not being able to talk, it’s gotta be way more embarrassing for them, with everything all hanging out and no way to disguise it.”
(After a few moments.)
Me: “I can totally see the commercials, though. This gorgeous Golden Retriever stud going ‘Once, I was the laughing stock of the breeding kennel. But now, I’m back to being top dog, thanks to Viagra!’”
Pharmacist: *cracking up* “See, none of the other health care professions get to enjoy jokes like this.”
Medical Office, Patients, Sports, UK | Healthy | July 7, 2019
I recently joined a social group which runs an indoor football session each week. With it being a regular thing, the guys all know each other, while I am new to the group.
Towards the end of the hour, everyone is getting tired and sweaty, and this tends to make people stop paying attention. One guy attempts to showboat, so when I go in and tackle him, he doesn’t see me and ends up standing awkwardly on my foot and going down. Less Messi, more Suarez…
He starts wailing about how he has badly hurt his foot, and everyone stops and swarms him, asking him if he is okay. Meanwhile, I’m having flashbacks to seven years ago where I received a high ankle sprain from a similar incident.
I end up escorting him to the walk-in clinic across the road from the sports centre, along with his girlfriend. When we get there, I explain the situation to the receptionist, who puts his details into the system. Throughout all of this, he continues to wail about how he is in so much pain from his foot, to the point where he can’t concentrate enough to give information. It should be noted that the social group caters to people with conditions like ADHD for the other guy, and the autistic spectrum for all three of us. It should also be noted that of the three, I actually have technical medical knowledge, so can act as translator for “doctor speak” for the others.
After ninety minutes of waiting, as well as a physical examination and five x-rays, the doctor confirms two things: that there is nothing physically wrong with his foot — he just overextended and put unnecessary pressure on the outside of his foot when he stepped on me — and that this guy is a ”gigantic” hypochondriac, to mine and the girlfriend’s utter amusement.
The doctor takes it in stride, saying that unfortunately, they don’t have medication to fix the latter, but a bit of ice and elevation will help with the former. Cue the chuckles all round the following week!
Colorado, Denver, Extra Stupid, Jerk, Patients, USA, Vet | Healthy | July 5, 2019
(A client walks in with her dog. Since I recognize the client, I print out a confirmation sheet, just asking to check the accuracy of all of her information, such as the spelling of her name, address, phone number, and email address.)
Client: *with a BIG smile on her face* “I pulled a switcheroo on you guys!” *gestures to her dog* “This is Linus, not Ella; Linus is having ear troubles. Also, I will only be boarding Buttons with you, not Ella or Linus, so we don’t need to have Ella in for her exam and vaccines.”
Me: *strained smile* “All righty, then. You said that Linus is having trouble with his ears, so let’s get you into a room.”
(Seriously, if you have two children and you set up an appointment for an annual well-check with the pediatrician for one child, would you not only switch the child that you are bringing in, but change the reason for the visit, and not bother telling the doctor’s office what you are doing? If not, why do you think it is okay to do that to a vet?)
College & University, Croatia, Hospital, Patients, Pranks, Students | Healthy | July 4, 2019
A couple of weeks ago, I was working in the cardiology department and the topic of conversation between me, another medical student, and a specialist somehow drifted towards practical exams. The specialist suddenly asked us if we knew how to fail a student. Neither of us knew what she had in mind, so we shook our heads.
Then, she explained.
First, find a patient with LVAD — a mechanical implantable pump that assists the heart with pumping blood in heart failure; due to how the pump works, the patient has no palpatable pulse. And then, you give the student a regular blood-pressure monitor and instruct them to take their pulse and blood pressure.
Hospital, Jerk, Nurses, Texas, USA | Healthy | July 2, 2019
(I’m small and only 16, so I am required to go to the children’s hospital. My parents leave me alone overnight. I’ve been admitted for a possible reemergence of a serious issue, so I’m obviously not allowed to run down to the corner store or anything like that.)
Me: “Excuse me, do you have pads?”
Female Nurse: *freezes*
Me: “You know, for… monthly things?”
Female Nurse: “I… I’m sorry, sweetie, what?”
Me: “I’m bleeding, so I need pads.”
Female Nurse: “I’ll check.”
(She practically runs out of the room. I watch her talk to three others, all with mortified expressions on their faces. Finally, she comes back.)
Female Nurse: “Here you go, sweetie. But this is a children’s hospital, so you need to tell your mother that we don’t have those kinds of things here, okay? Have her bring you some in the morning.”
Me: “But I’ve had this since I was ten…”
Female Nurse: *sputters* “Well, ten isn’t really a child, now is it?” *runs off*
Australia, Children, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, New South Wales | Healthy | July 1, 2019
(My three-year-old son has just spent a week in hospital following surgery on his elbow. The team of doctors has done their rounds and the consultant has left his young resident — who looks about twenty — to give us our final instructions for discharge.)
Me: “So, is he going to need rehab or physiotherapy? Or is he right to resume all his regular activity?”
Resident: “Yeah, he’s fine to do everything a normal, healthy three-year-old boy does. No worries.”
Me: *very happy, as getting this child to be still and rest in hospital all week has been no easy feat* “Great! So, running, jumping, climbing trees, sandpit, and playground is all okay?”
Resident: “Oh, no! He can’t do any of that!”
Me: “So, what, exactly, is it that you think a normal, healthy three-year-old boy does?”
California, Children, Doctor/Physician, Los Angeles, Medical Office, Patients, USA | Healthy | June 30, 2019
(My daughter, around three or four years old, is acting increasingly lethargic, so I take her to urgent care. As always, there is a long wait and she steadily gets more and more bored and restless until the doctor finally comes in. The doctor looks at her and then at me.)
Doctor: “Okay, what brings you here tonight?”
Me: “My daughter has become really lethargic.”
(My daughter can’t sit still anymore and gets up.)
Doctor: “Hi, honey. Can you jump around a little for me?”
(My daughter goes wild, pogo-ing around the room.)
Me: “She wasn’t like this at home! I am so sorry I’ve wasted your time.”
Doctor: “Eh, that’s okay. To be honest, I’m a pediatric specialist. I’m just working here to make a little extra money. Most of my patients die. It’s really nice for me to see a healthy kid.”
(We shook hands and he walked out. This was almost 20 years ago, and I’ve never forgotten how quickly my embarrassment was replaced with sadness.)
Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, Oregon, USA | Healthy | June 28, 2019
(I receive a message from my primary physician.)
Doctor #1 : “Your vitamin D is low, but all your other lab results are fine.”
(Later, I go to a doctor who specializes in some of my chronic illnesses. She looks at the lab results herself.)
Doctor #2 : “Your vitamin D is very low, and you’re borderline anemic.”
Me: “What?! My other doctor didn’t tell me that!”
Doctor #2 : “Well, you’re technically in the normal range for children, but just barely. You’re almost 18 and you’re way below the threshold for adults. Plus, with your chronic illness, you need even more iron than the average person. This isn’t nearly enough. Let’s get you started on an iron supplement.”
(Just because the numbers are within range — by a single point! — it doesn’t mean they’re anywhere close to ideal, doctors.)
Assisted Living, Lazy/Unhelpful, Nurses, Patients, Revolting, The Netherlands | Healthy | June 26, 2019
(I work as a trainee in a care home. I’ve been there just three days. This is my second traineeship, which will teach me specific nursing skills, like inserting a bladder catheter, stoma care, wound care, etc. It’s afternoon and I’m working with two coworkers who aren’t happy with me being there. Normally, they’d sit in the staffroom telling trainees what to do, but since this is my third day, I haven’t got a clue as to what to do exactly, which means that they need to show me. An alarm call comes in from the apartment of a married couple. We go there to see what’s wrong. When we get through the front door, the smell of faeces hits us. Going through to the living room the smell gets worse. We find the husband, who has Alzheimer’s, nearly in tears. He points us to the bathroom where we find his wife, sitting on a stool, covered from her shoulders to her knees in faeces. She has managed to partly undress and it’s immediately clear that her stoma bag has exploded.)
(And they both just leave. I can’t believe what I’ve just witnessed. When the woman sees them leave and sees me, she starts bawling her eyes out. I know she hasn’t had her stoma for long and she’s only seen me once, this morning, when I asked her if I could watch her stoma care and help her. She knows I haven’t handled anything like this before.)
Me: “All right, let’s get you undressed.”
(I peek around the door and ask her husband to grab five towels, two bin-bags, and underwear for his wife. To my amazement, he comes back with exactly what I asked for a short while later.)
Patient: “You never did this before; you can’t handle this. It’s a mess!”
Me: “Yes, it is, but we’ll do this together. You’ll see; it’ll be fine.”
(I dress up in gloves and a plastic apron and begin to undress her, throwing the clothes on the ground near the shower, but far enough from her that she won’t stand on the faeces. I give her the showerhead and start peeling off the stoma plate. This, together with the stoma bag, goes into one of the bin-bags. By now, she starts feeling a bit better. The smell still isn’t nice, but since a lot of faeces is being washed down the drain, it’s getting better. Her husband asks if everything is all right. I tell him yes and ask him to make a cup of tea.)
Patient: *crying* “Why did they leave? Why did they leave you here?”
Me: “I don’t know, but I’ll get you sorted. Your husband is making tea, so when you’re dressed your cuppa is waiting.”
Patient: “Thank you for doing this.”
Me: “Yeah, well, I want this to be my job, so it’s no big deal.”
(When she’s clean and feeling better, I transfer her to the toilet so she can get dressed. Normally, I’d do this on the stool, but since it’s not entirely clean in that area I have to transfer her. Meanwhile, I rinse out her clothes and put them in the other bin-bag, to go into the washing. When she’s dressed in her underwear, I help her with her stoma materials. I walk her to the bedroom to get dressed further and clean the shower as best as I can without the proper materials. She’s still wobbly from her experience, so I go and check on the husband. He’s boiled the water, but then forgot what he was supposed to be doing. I make tea for both of them and, when I’ve written in their patient book what has happened, I go and check on them again.)
Patient: “Thank you, dear, for everything you’ve done. Now, go get the signature you need for that stoma care. You’ve done great, considering they’ve left you while they knew you hadn’t handled anything like this before.”
Me: “Thank you. I’ll try to talk to them about this. It’s horrible that they left you like that. They shouldn’t have.”
Patient: “I know, but I’m glad you were there.”
(I take her clothes to the laundry room and the coworker there washes them immediately. I find one of the cleaners, tell them what happened, and ask them if they have time to clean the bathroom. They agree. I then walk to the staffroom where I know both coworkers and the manager will be for their tea break.)
Me: *slamming my workbook on the table before both coworkers* “Sign here and there.”
Coworker #1 : *looks at where I’m pointing* “I can’t sign this; I haven’t seen you doing stoma care.”
Me: “Of course, you haven’t. You both walked out on the patient while she was covered in faeces from her shoulders to her knees. If I remember correctly your words were, ‘I’m not gonna deal with this,’ and you left her there, in tears, covered in faeces.”
Me: “You did the exact same thing. You walked out on her, too.”
Manager: “What? You left a patient who needed help? [My Name], can I see the book?”
(I give her the book and she signs without hesitating.)
Manager: “You go home early today; you’ve done enough. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” *points to the two coworkers* “You two, in my office. Now!”
(The next day, I’m a little scared to go back, as I know leaving a patient who needs care is a really bad thing to do. When I get to the staffroom, both coworkers who should’ve been working aren’t there.)
Manager: *when everyone else is present* “I just want to tell you guys that [Coworker #1 ] and [Coworker #2 ] have been placed on unpaid leave for six weeks due to negligence. They’ve left [Patient] with our trainee when she badly needed help. This is inexcusable. You all can understand that, right? Now, [My Name], can you come to my office later to fill out a few witness statements about what happened yesterday?”
(I agreed and we all went to work. I was inundated with questions from other coworkers about what had happened and they were all appalled by my responses. After I’d filled out the witness statements, a couple of weeks went by where we heard nothing more of either coworker. After four weeks, we found out one had been let go as she’d had a warning about negligence before, and the other found another care home to work with.)
England, Hospital, Patients, Time, UK | Healthy | June 25, 2019
I went to see my doctor as I’d had a weird pain in my arm for a week and then it had swelled up at the weekend. He sent me to the hospital for a scan, which confirmed I needed to stay in hospital, but they needed to find me a bed so I went back to the investigations ward to wait. And wait. And wait some more.
At 10:00 pm, there was a teenage lad whose parents were grumbling about how they’d been there for four hours and they were fed up waiting for the boy to be discharged.
A few others joined in, waiting five, six hours… After a while of this, I decided to pipe up.
“I’ve been here since ten o’clock this morning. I got diagnosed nine hours ago and I’m still waiting for a bed because I don’t get to go home tonight.”
There were a few beats of silence before the original grumblers declared me the winner and happily waited for their son to be discharged. It actually helped break some of the tension in the room and got people talking to pass the time until I finally got a bed, so yay for winning “waiting time” to trumps, I guess.
Doctor/Physician, England, Hospital, Jerk, UK | Healthy | June 24, 2019
My best friend had surgery in 2017 to remove an ovarian cyst that had gone undiagnosed until it was large enough to cause a protrusion in her abdomen. The surgery to remove it was initially successful and after a couple of days, she returned home, only to be back in hospital three days later with a truly life-threatening infection.
Over a week later, the infection has been largely treated and my friend is moved out of intensive care and onto a ward, still on a cocktail of medicines that leave her somewhat delirious. I’m visiting her along with her mother and two sisters when a doctor enters and begins telling my friend how her infection was the most severe he’d ever seen where the patient recovered. He asks if he can have her permission to write a paper about it. My friend at this point isn’t even with it enough to tell us her surname, and all four of us rather sternly tell the doctor to ask again when she is properly recovered. Embarrassed, he leaves.
I get that doctors deal with this stuff a lot and it’s normal to them, but seriously? She almost died and spent ten days in the ICU, and you think the day she gets back out onto a ward she’s going to be bouncing around the room eager to grant permission for your paper?
My friend made a full recovery and did eventually grant the doctor permission. She told me he said that in blood cultures a score of 10 is an infection, and hers came back with a score of 1,174.
Bosses & Owners, Health & Body, Jerk, Mississippi, Salon, USA | Healthy | June 23, 2019
(For my first job, I work at a tanning salon. I have had epilepsy my whole life. During the interview, I explain everything to the general manager and the procedures in case I have one at work. Well, the inevitable happens and I have a seizure when it is just me and one coworker, with a store full of customers. One of the customers calls 911 and I wake up surrounded by the fire department. Naturally, I have to take off for a few days to recover. This is the conversation between me and the general manager as soon as I return for my next shift.)
GM: “[My Name], I need to see you in my office.”
(We sit down and she hands me a piece of paper.)
GM: “You need to sign this incident report.”
(I look over it carefully and sign it at the bottom. She looks at me sort of sideways and then continues.)
GM: “Why didn’t you just not come into work that day?”
Me: “Well, it’s not like I woke up and knew it was going to happen. I only have about ten minutes to one hour of warning. And I did call you almost exactly an hour before and told you how I was feeling. You told me to stay.”
GM: “Yeah, I didn’t think it was actually going to happen.”
Me: “Um, okay? Then what do you want me to do about that?”
GM: “You need to get a hold of yourself. I can’t have you seizing out in front of everybody and scaring away my customers. Did you skip your medicine or something?”
(I start to choke up and begin to cry because I can’t believe she just said something so rude, as if I can just control my disability whenever I feel like it.)
Me: “No, I didn’t skip my medicine. These things happen like clockwork every single month regardless, and you were fully aware of that at my very first interview. If I could control it like you seem to think I can, I would never have another seizure again. I can’t believe you just said something like that to me.”
GM: “Oh, don’t be so sensitive. Dry your tears and go clock in.”
(I just looked at her before I walked out of her office. This created a permanent wedge between me and the general manager. Neither one of us ever spoke of it again, and I didn’t have another seizure at work for the rest of the time I worked there. I eventually quit on the spot one day because I couldn’t handle the way she talked down to me like I was some insubordinate. Who would really say something like that to someone?!)
Bigotry, Illinois, Medical Office, Nurses, USA | Healthy | June 22, 2019
(I’m at a popular glasses chain for my yearly check. I’ve been going to this chain and the attached eye doctor for many years. Note: I am Latina. My last name usually gives this away. I’m very light-skinned, though.)
Nurse: “Okay, so you’re [My First and Last Name].”
Me: “Yes.”
Nurse: “[Address]? [Phone Number]? Still correct?”
Me: “Yes.”
Nurse: “Single or married?”
Me: “Single.”
(I notice the nurse peer at the screen, turn around and study me, and then squint at the screen again.)
Me: “Is everything okay?”
Nurse: “Whoever entered you in the computer listed you as ‘Hispanic/Latina.’ Don’t worry; I’ll fix it.”
Me: “I am Latina.”
Nurse: “Seriously? But you’re so light!”
Me: “We do come in all shades, you know.”
Nurse: “Wow!”
(The rest of the exam proceeded normally. I know my area doesn’t have a huge Latino/a population but come on now.)
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