During my freshman year in high school, my science teacher assigned us to interview people in the community about how they use science in their careers. Although I don’t remember most of the people I spoke with, I can tell you that I spent meaningful time with a local community pharmacist who changed my life.
What I saw was a man who loved his career and truly cared for his patients. In an instant, I knew that I wanted to become a pharmacist, and I never wavered from that goal throughout high school.
Knowing what you want to be when you grow up at age 14 is unusual, but it is very liberating. I simply had to work backwards to figure out how to achieve my goal of becoming a pharmacist.
After high school, I chose to attend Ohio Northern University (ONU) because it had a unique pharmacy program. Rather than attending college for 2 years and then applying to the pharmacy program, ONU students were admitted to the College of Pharmacy from day one.
Although it was expensive, being in pharmacy school from day one and avoiding the risk of rejection made it worthwhile for me.
In college, I spent a lot of time in the library. Although the classwork was difficult, I did well with one exception: organic chemistry.
I did fail organic chemistry—a notorious “weed out” course—but I successfully retook the class over the summer and graduated on time with the rest of my classmates. Failing a course is a difficult stumbling block, but I stood strong and persevered.
Today, I’m thankful for the wonderful pharmacy profession for so many reasons.
First, I’m thankful that community pharmacists are the health care professionals most accessible to the public. If my local pharmacist wasn’t accessible to me, then I likely would have taken a different career path.
Second, I’m proud of the work we pharmacists do, the diversity of our career options, and the relationships we share with our patients and fellow health care providers.
Pharmacy is a profession that makes a real difference in people’s lives. It certainly has made all the difference in mine.
Illinois, Non-Dialogue, USA, Vet | Healthy | December 5, 2017
I was working the other day when a client called in frantically about her dog having a tick on it’s leg. I asked the doctor if we had time to fit her in and he agreed to see the dog.
The client arrives on time and we get her and her dog into an examination room. I happen to overhear her telling the vet that she had tried burning the tick off, tweezing it, and pulling it off.
The doctor looked at it for a few moments, looked up, and said, “Ma’am, this is a mole.”
Medical Office, Norfolk, USA, Virginia | Healthy | December 4, 2017
(I am currently working front desk at a private practice doctor’s office. I answer phones, schedule patients, do referrals, etc. This exchange occurs over the phone.)
Me: “Thank you for calling [Doctor]’s office. My name is [My Name]. How may I help you?”
Patient: *with a snarky attitude* ”My name is [Patient] and I need to know if my medication has been approved by my insurance.”
(Sometimes certain medications need a prior authorization in order for the pharmacy to dispense the med. I tell the woman no problem and get her info so I can pull up her chart.)
Me: “Okay, ma’am, it looks like it’s still being processed right now.”
Patient: *with even nastier attitude* “This is ridiculous. I need my medication.”
(I then look to see what medication she is talking about and it turns out it’s Zantac. This is an over-the-counter medicine that you can buy at any grocery or drug store.)
Me: “I’m sorry about that, ma’am, but PAs can take anywhere from one to six weeks. Sometimes medications that can be purchased over-the-counter take longer.”
Patient: *yelling* “I KNOW IT’S OVER THE COUNTER BUT I WILL NOT SPEND MONEY WHEN I CAN GET MY INSURANCE TO PAY FOR IT! I NEED MY MEDICATION NOW AND YOU BETTER DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS.”
(I then forwarded the call to the doctor’s nurse who informed her that she would get to it as soon as possible, but since the patient’s medication was available over-the-counter, she has to work on the others that aren’t. She also gave her a list of stores and other medications that will help her problem if she needs it immediately. Seriously, just go to the store and get some.)
(I have chronic, crippling migraines. Sometimes I have to go the ER for a shot. On one such visit, the doctor came in, saw me in my floppy hat and sunglasses, and says
Doctor: “Don’t you think that’s a little ridiculous?”
(The migraine has my brain muddled. All I can say is
Me: “What?”
(He went into a rather long rant about the dark room, my hat, and my sunglasses. Then he left the room.)
Me: *to my husband* “What just happened?”
Husband: “I don’t know. He’s doing something at the desk now.”
(The doctor returned after about twenty minutes.)
Doctor: “I just checked your record. You’ve been here seventeen times in the last month.”
Me: “No. I haven’t been here for two months at least.”
Doctor: “Don’t lie. I saw the record. It’s obvious you just want the drugs.”
(He continued berating me for being a drug-seeker until I was crying hard. Then, he told me to get out. I had a physical therapy appointment two days later. After what the ER doctor had said to me, I was nervous about interacting with people, but finally got the courage to ask
Me: “When someone checks my record on the computer can they see what a visit was for?”
Therapist: “What do you mean?”
Me: “I was in the ER a couple of days ago. The doctor looked at my record and accused of making seventeen visits to the ER seeking drugs. The only thing at [Medical Complex] that I’ve used recently was my physical therapy. Doesn’t my record say what the visits were for?”
Therapist: *in shock* “Yes! It will definitely say if it was physical therapy, your doctor, or the ER.”
(Then, she showed me my record on the computer with physical therapy listed eighteen times, including that day’s visit. I didn’t tell her how bad the ER doc made me feel or how sick I was before the migraine went away on its own, but she decided to report him anyway. It must have been the final straw because when I had to go to the ER about four months later I discovered that doctor had been fired.)
Maryland, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | December 4, 2017
(I am a lesbian, and I occasionally experience extremely severe symptoms when on my period, for up to 5 days, such as a complete inability to eat without vomiting, severe pain, and on a couple occasions, seizures. After talking it over with my wife, I decide to go in to speak to my gynecologist and ask her about how to go about getting a hysterectomy. The trouble starts right from when I attempt to book an appointment. After getting through hold and basic introductions.)
Me: “I would like to schedule a consultation with [Doctor] about having a hysterectomy.”
Receptionist: “Okay! Just so you know, if you have a hysterectomy, you won’t be able to have children afterwards!”
Me: “I know. That’s fine.”
(The receptionist then schedules the consultation without any more fuss. On the day of the appointment, I arrive with my wife so that we can both talk to the gynecologist.)
Doctor: “I don’t think that this is a bad idea given your symptoms, but you need to understand that if you go through with this you will never, ever be able to have babies. There is no way to undo it if you decide you want kids.”
Me: “I know. That’s fine.”
Doctor: “We could schedule it a year or two out so you could have one last baby before your surgery.”
Me: “I have never had children.”
Doctor: “So you want to wait—”
Me: “Shut up and listen to me. I am gay. The only penises that ever go inside me are made of plastic. I will not be having children either way. I don’t care. We can adopt. [Wife] could have artificial insemination. It doesn’t matter.”
Doctor: “If you say so…”
(My gynecologist continued to flare at me and mention children several times, and even tried to show me pictures of her own kids, while she was recommending surgeons to me and helping me schedule with one of them. With the surgeon, he also listed all the possible side effects, but a simple “I understand” was all it took to convince him, luckily.)
Hospital, Non-Dialogue, Ohio, USA | Healthy | December 3, 2017
I was in an ER cubicle patiently waiting for a doctor to be free to treat my migraine, which is considered low-priority in triage. It was a very busy night, but amazingly quiet so my headache wasn’t exacerbated by sounds. And then, HE arrived in an ambulance.
We were able to hear that he had gotten drunk, climbed onto the bar’s roof, and fallen through a skylight.
Though he was at least 40 yards from me, his continual yells were overwhelming, causing me pain, confusion, and dizziness. Because of that, I couldn’t understand most of what he yelled, but did manage to hear him demanding more alcoholic drinks and trying to get out of bed, and that they had to restrain him.
By the time a doctor went to examine him, I was crying from pain and at the end of my ability to cope. The doctor began talking to the drunk: “And what’s going on with you tonight?”
I snapped and yelled, “HE’S DRUNK AND STUPID!”
The entire ward went silent and then we heard giggles. The doctor bustled into my cubicle, followed in minutes by a nurse with a syringe.
Within fifteen minutes of my outburst, I had been medicated and discharged.
Medical Office, Non-Dialogue, Ohio, USA | Healthy | December 2, 2017
Because of family history, I need a specific medical test every five years. My husband always accompanies me to the pre-test appointments. The doctor is mostly bald and does not like jokes about it.
Please note that my husband has been balding for quite a few years. A few years before this appointment, I had made my husband a baseball hat, which said, “Wish you were hair.” I hadn’t realized he was wearing it.
The doctor took one look at the hat, got a sour face, and said, “Is that meant for me?”
At first we were too startled to say anything. Then my husband removed his hat to show his own balding head. He and I burst out laughing. After his own startled pause, the doctor joined in.
(I have hypothyroidism, which has been successfully controlled with medication for several years. Over a couple months, however, I notice that some of my symptoms are returning. I call my doctor, and she says she will do a blood test. I go to her office for the results.)
Doctor: “Okay, so your thyroid level is at 4.9.”
(The maximum is five.)
Me: “Well, no wonder I’ve been feeling sick! That’s very high.”
Doctor: “Oh, no. You’re fine. Five is the top of the normal range. You’re still under that.”
Me: “But a lot of my old symptoms are coming back. I can’t sleep at night, I’m tired during the day, I’m freezing cold all the time—”
Doctor: “You’re under stress. It’s normal.”
Me: “I HAVE GAINED 20 POUNDS IN TWO MONTHS!”
Doctor: “Well, you just need to go on a diet.”
Me: “I exercise five days a week, and I eat my fruits and veggies! I don’t feel like myself. I know my body, and I need a medication change!”
Doctor: “Well, I’m not giving you one, because you’re normal.”
(She tells me to exercise more and gives me a vitamin supplement. I fume, but take it. A couple months later, I move to a different state. I go in for an appointment with my new doctor.)
New Doctor: “I’ve been reviewing your test results from your previous doctor, and I noticed your thyroid is at 4.9. That’s very high. Are you feeling okay at that number?”
Me: “Not at all! I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t listen. She kept saying it was normal.”
New Doctor: “I’m not surprised. Older guidelines allow it to get that high, but I’ve found that my patients feel better when their thyroid is at three or under. I’m going to order some more blood work.”
(The new blood test shows that my number skyrocketed to a six. My new doctor changes my medication immediately. It takes a year and three medicine changes to get it right. It turned out that my thyroid number had been creeping up for a couple years, and my old doctor had just ignored it. I’m happy to report that I’m much better now!)
Columbia, Medical Office, South Carolina, USA | Healthy | December 1, 2017
(I get about a $3,000 bill from a doctor I had seen several months prior. I am confused because I know my insurance had paid it. I call the billing dept. but get no answer and leave a message. I forget about it until the next month when the bill comes again. Once again, I call, leave a message, and forget about it. Then I get a letter threatening to send me to a collection agency. I call my insurance company to double check. They tell me that not only have they paid it, but had a duplicate charge under a different account number that was of course denied. I start calling every other day. The office phones aren’t open until 10 am and they shut them down at 3:30 pm. I either get a recording and leave a message or the receptionist tells me everyone is in a meeting. This goes on for over three weeks. Then I get another threatening letter. I even go to the office in person but am told everyone is in a meeting and no one can talk to me. At this point I have had it. I wait until 10 pm at night. I call and get the voicemail system. When it says press “1” for nurse, I do so and leave a detailed, angry message that NO ONE will return my calls, I am being threatened with being sent to a collection agency for a bill that was paid, and someone better call me back or I am filing fraud charges with the insurance company and talking to a lawyer. I hang up and call back and do it again after pressing a number for a different department. I go through the entire employee directory. I do this for almost two hours and leave dozens of messages on EVERY SINGLE EMPLOYEE’S voicemail. I then call the doctor’s emergency after-hours line and leave the same message there. The next morning, at 10:01, I call the office. The receptionist recognizes my voice.)
Receptionist: “Yes, ma’am, I have the office manager here for you” *transfers me*
Manager: “Good morning, Mrs. [My Name]. I was just about to call you.”
Me: “Yeah, I bet you were.”
Manager: *sheepishly* “Yeah, everyone is talking about the messages you left, especially the doctor.”
Me: “Well, it’s not like you left me much choice.”
(She apologizes and explains. The guy who was handling the bills was creating fake patient accounts and double billing the insurance companies. Most didn’t catch it, paid the doctor, and then the guy stole the money. They fired him but have such a paperwork mess to clean up and had to gather the evidence to convict him that they didn’t have time to call the patients.)
Me: “I understand, but that is no excuse. You are sending me letters threatening to send me to a collection agency.”
Manager: “What?! Crap, the computers are printing those out automatically. We didn’t know any had been mailed out.”
Me: “Yeah, well they are and you better start answering these calls because you have some very peeved off patients who, like me, are calling lawyers.”
(She apologized again and told me that my account had been cleared up. I wonder, though, about all the others who just kept calling and getting nowhere.)
England, Hospital, UK | Healthy | December 1, 2017
(I am a medical student. This is my first ever interaction in a hospital setting. The patient has been admitted for a serious lung issue, and is due to return home. It proceeds well, until it is time to round off the conversation
Me: “So, I’ve been told you’re being discharged today; is that correct?”
Patient: “Yes, that’s right. I’m going to go and see my friend when I get out. She’s really stressed.”
Me: “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you have anything nice planned?”
Patient: “We’re going to bake some weed brownies. That should help us relax!” *laughs*
Me: “Well, at least you’re not smoking it!” *nervous laughter*
(Interesting start to medicine. I’m glad she took my comment well. I just wasn’t expecting it!)
Medical Office, Oklahoma, Tulsa, USA | Healthy | November 30, 2017
(I have a horrible ingrown toenail. My GP determines that surgery is necessary. He is right, as after half of it is cut away, I still have a normal toenail remaining. The surgery is done under general anesthesia, a move I thought was overkill, but it is a success. Some years later I am seeing a podiatrist about the same problem with the other foot and the doctor concludes the same treatment. I tell him about the first surgery.)
Doctor: “They gave you general anesthesia? That’s ridiculous. Was it a GP?”
Me: “I thought it was extreme. Yes, he was my GP.”
Doctor: “Figures. GP’s don’t know how to anesthetize a toe. Okay, let’s get this taken care of today.”
(He sets me up for surgery, sticks a needle in the base of my toe and injects me. After a bit he uses something pointy to test my toe.)
Doctor: “There, you shouldn’t be feeling anything.”
Me: “I can feel that quite easily. Try again.” *I look away so he knows I’m no cheating by watching* “Yeah, I can still feel it.”
Doctor: “Hmm. Let’s get you some more anesthesia.”
(After a bit, it’s still not numb. I’m suddenly feeling a great lack of confidence after hearing his short diatribe about GPs.)
Doctor: “Well, on a few rare individuals, the main nerve for that part of the toe runs up the wrong side of the toe. Let me see if that’s it.”
(Lucky for him (and me) that turned out to be exactly the case. I still get a wry grin thinking about him complaining that another doctor couldn’t just numb my toe.)
Hospital, Israel, Tel Aviv | Healthy | November 30, 2017
(I recently fractured my wrist and hand in a bad fall. I am seeing my doctor and a follow-up appointment. Due to being unable to drive myself, my boyfriend drives me and stays while they draw blood. It’s important to note I’m only 1.60 m and he is a large man, over 2 m tall.)
Doctor: “Well, the results look good, no infections, and the x-rays show your hand and wrist are healing well. Oh, and congratulations.”
Me: “For being clumsy? Or having good bones?”
Doctor: “No… congratulations.”
Boyfriend: “For what?”
Doctor: “You’re expecting, or did you not know?”
Me: “Expecting what?”
Doctor: “A baby. You’re pregnant. We ran the results twice. You’re going to have a baby.”
(While I tried to process being pregnant, my boyfriend stood up, then promptly fainted, landing face first on the floor and leaving a nasty bruise on his forehead. Now we have a great story to tell our future child about how their big, strong father fainted when he heard the news!)
College & University, England, Essex, UK | Healthy | November 30, 2017
(I am a paramedic student. As part of my training, we run simulated scenarios with one, two, or four students and actor(s) to be the patient (and bystanders). We have a scenario where I and another student have to respond to a man who has attempted suicide and slit both his wrists. While we’re treating him I drop a bandage and a few members of my class giggle. The actor, being the little legend he is, responds by saying
Actor: “All those people are laughing at me.”
(I had to struggle not to laugh while my partner, a seasoned EMT who is getting her UK cert, reassured him that he was just seeing things.)
Massachusetts, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | November 29, 2017
(I have a mild immune deficiency. This makes me highly susceptible to severe sinus infections. This also means that only antibiotics administered within the first week of symptoms will quickly cure my sinus infections. Anything else does nothing and it will take several months for my immune system to fight off the infection. This is well-documented.)
Doctor: “It seems your daughter’s infections are chronic. I’m going to prescribe your daughter [Medication that relies on and boosts the immune cells already present] and ask that you check back to tell me if it helped.”
Mom: “No. You have prescribed my daughter this medication and those like it before and it does nothing. She needs antibiotics.”
Doctor: “Can you try this medication for a few days? We ought not to jump right to antibiotics.”
Mom: “This is another thing you have told us to do that we have tried. No, it does not help at all.”
Doctor: “You cannot just press me for antibiotics! They’re not good for long-term health.”
Mom: “Listen to me. I know that you think I am one of those parents who just demands that doctors give my kid antibiotics for every little sniffle. I am not. I am insisting on antibiotics because they are the only thing that will stop my daughter from having to go through months of misery, pain, and exhaustion from sinus infections! This is not an exaggeration; it really does take that long. And your immune booster medication does not help much because hers is too compromised for the effect to make a difference! I would love to go through the documentation proving all of this, if you require it. But I am absolutely not leaving here having wasted my daughter’s and my time to go spend my money on a medication that will not help her avoid a long term and awful illness.”
Doctor: “Oh. Um… I have to step out for a bit. Um… you really shouldn’t over-rely on antibiotics. Be careful.”
Mom: *shoots [Doctor] a death glare*
(Fortunately, this was enough to get [Doctor] to prescribe me antibiotics. Sure enough, I was ready to go back to school by the next day and was totally free of infection after three days. My mom soon requested to never see that doctor again, which was honored. Since being guaranteed to get the medication I need as soon as possible, I have not needed to take antibiotics often and also get sick much less than before.)
Clinic, Russia, Sarcasm, St. Petersburg | Healthy | November 29, 2017
(Back in college I spent a summer living in Russia. Midway through my stay I came down with strep throat. This is the first time I’ve had it since I was a kid, when I got it yearly. My program director takes me to a clinic that specializes in treating foreigners. After diagnosing me, the doctor comes back into my room with a pile of medication, none of which I recognize. Since I take other medications, I ask him if there are drug interactions I should be aware of. He proceeds to take the paper inserts out of every box he has and read them. After a few minutes he looks up and says
Doctor: “I don’t know; if the reaction is bad, stop taking them?”
Me: “Great. So, if I die, I’ll stop taking them.”
(Thankfully I never had a reaction but I still have no idea what it was that he gave me. Bonus? My host mother was convinced I got sick from drinking cold beverages in the hot weather.)
Dentist, Maryland, USA | Healthy | November 29, 2017
(I go to my routine semi-annual dental check-up, and tell my dentist that I think I have chipped a molar, as there is a rough patch on my tooth that keeps catching my tongue, causing it to blister and bleed on a regular basis.)
Dentist: “Oh, yes, there is a small chip.”
Me: “Can we get it fixed?”
Dentist: “Insurance won’t cover the procedure as it’s ‘cosmetic.’”
Me: “It’s literally causing my tongue to bleed. This chip is painful, and it’s actually causing injury to me. I think it’s more than cosmetic.”
Dentist: “Oh, you’ll be fine. Just don’t play with it.”
(This went on for months. I kept asking him to fix the chip, and he kept refusing. I also got opinions from other dentists that said the chip needed to be filled, but my dentist still refused. Ultimately I switched to a new dentist due to a change in insurance; the new dentist took one look at the chip and had me scheduled for an appointment to get it filled a few days later.)
New Dentist: “Yeah, let’s get this taken care of; you shouldn’t have to suffer with this chip causing you pain and open sores. Plus, it’s deep enough that your dentin is exposed. If we leave this open any longer, your whole tooth would be in danger of forming an abscess, which would need a root canal to fix.”
Me: *in shocked disbelief* “My tooth could have rotted away from the inside out because my old dentist couldn’t be bothered to give me a filling the size of a pin-head?!”
California, Pharmacy, USA | Healthy | November 28, 2017
(I’ve been diagnosed with cancer and am on numerous medications, including morphine and oxycodone for the pain I am in. I’m pretty skinny and pale and not looking healthy after six months of chemotherapy. I go to my normal pharmacy with my paper prescription to get filled and a new pharmacy tech, or at least one I’ve never seen in the six months I’ve frequented this place, greets me. I hand him my paperwork, and he starts to type in into his computer, and then looks at me and says
Pharmacy Tech: “I see you’ve been getting these pills for a few months now, and you’re refilling them on the same date every month. You can’t fill this if you’re just going to sell them on the street for your drug money.”
(My jaw drops, and he hands my prescription back to me.)
Pharmacy Tech: “I’m calling the police now, sir, so don’t run off.”
(He then goes to the phone and starts dialing. The pharmacist sees me through their little window and waves at me, I see her a lot when I’m there and she’s helped consult me on the timing of taking my meds so I don’t make myself sick. I wave her over.)
Pharmacist: “Hi!”
Me: “You may want to talk to your new guy. He’s calling the cops on me.”
(She turns around and sees him on the phone.)
Pharmacist: “What are you doing?”
Pharmacy Tech: *covers the receiver* “This junkie is trying to get pills to sell. I’m calling the cops.”
(She rips the phone out of his hand and yells at him.)
Pharmacist: “He has cancer, you idiot!”
(He went pale. She sent him away and hung up the phone. I got my refills, and I never saw that guy again.)
(I am at the pharmacy to pick up a prescription that was called in.)
Tech: “Can I help you?”
Me: “I need to pick up for [Last Name].”
Tech: *types into computer* “First name?”
Me: “Digger.”
Tech: “Digger?”
Me: “Yes.”
(The tech give me a funny look and goes into the back. He returns with the medicine in hand.)
Tech: “So, you can’t drive while taking this. Also, you cannot drink alcohol while taking this. I will need you to sign saying you understand those restrictions.”
Me: *laughing* “No problem.”
Tech: “I need a date of birth.”
Me: “October 2015. I don’t know the day.”
Tech: “You don’t know your child’s birthdate?”
Me: “It’s not my child.”
Tech: “I’m not going to be able to fill this.”
Me: “I need the pharmacist. Now.”
(The pharmacist comes out and asks what the problem is.)
Tech: “She’s picking up this medicine but she doesn’t know the birthdate and then she says it isn’t her child.”
Pharmacist: *takes bag and reads label* “Look at this name.”
(The tech looks and still doesn’t seem to understand.)
Pharmacist: “The patient is named Digger K9 [Last Name]. That means it’s for her dog. Lots of people don’t know their dog’s birthday.”
Tech: “How was I supposed to know?”
Pharmacist: “I’ll finish this. Go wait in the office for me.”
(When I went to get his refill, the same tech handled the transaction. He commented that it was a really big dose for a toddler. Pretty sure whatever the pharmacist said — it didn’t help.)
Clinic, North Carolina, USA | Healthy | November 28, 2017
(I have a rare disease for which I have to have blood work done every few months. I always get it done at the local health department because I don’t have insurance and labs are too expensive elsewhere. They used to have a phlebotomist on staff who was quite good at her job, but she retired around a year before this incident. After she retired, for a while, my tests were done by whichever nurse happened to be available. On this day, one of the nurses who has drawn my blood a few times before is training a different nurse on lab procedures, so the trainee nurse is actually the one doing the draw. I’m often a problematic draw because my veins are small, and sometimes my blood doesn’t come out. This happens after several other mishaps, including the trainee nurse not noticing all of the tests I need to have done, having to remind both of them that one of my samples has to be frozen, and the trainee nurse failing to draw from my left arm and having to try my right arm instead. As the trainee nurse is drawing my blood, she’s pulling up on the needle in a way that makes it hurt like h***, but I’m kind of used to it, so I’m just responding to the talkative trainer nurse and not looking at my arm. Finally the trainee nurse finishes filling the last vial and removes the needle. Something feels a little odd, so I look down to see blood POURING from my arm. I’ve been getting labs done regularly for about 13 years at this point, and I’ve never seen anything like that, so I’m a bit alarmed.)
Me: “What the h***?!
Trainee Nurse: “…”
Trainer Nurse: “Oh! *to trainee nurse* “Looks like you broke the suction…” *to me* “Uh, she broke the suction… But that’s okay! It’s perfectly fine, just looks bad. Don’t worry!”
Me: “Uh…”
Trainee Nurse: “It happens sometimes.”
Me: “That has NEVER happened to me before. But okay, sure.”
(That’s not something that just “happens sometimes”; that’s something you DO.)
(I’m deadly afraid of dentists, but one day I finally get the courage to go see one for a routine check up. They tell me I need to get my wisdom teeth removed and we set up an appointment.)
Me: “Please be patient.”
Dentist: “This will not hurt at all in a few minutes, after the anaesthetic kicks off.”
(He gives me three injections. A few minutes later he pokes me with an instrument.)
Me: “Aaaah!”
Dentist: “Okay, more anaesthetic.”
(He gives me another injection, waits a few more minutes, then pokes me with an instrument.)
Me: “OUCH, OUCH, OUCH!”
Dentist: “Don’t lie; it doesn’t hurt.”
Me: “Please, I swear it does.”
Dentist: “I can’t give you any more anaesthetic. Go home and come back next week. Take a valium.”
(One week and one valium later
Dentist: “I gave you all the anaesthetic I can. Stop crying for nothing.”
(In extreme pain, I manage to get to the opening of the area around the tooth, then he begins pulling.)
Me: “No more! Please stop!”
Dentist: “Just a bit more. Let me pull some more. It doesn’t hurt.”
Me: *refusing to open my mouth any more* “No.”
(The dentist even called my mom, and she screamed at me to stop being a wuss. Still, I refused to get anything else and he was forced to close the gap and let me go. He was kind enough to recommend another dentist with access to morphine. Thankfully the new dentist thought that my problem was probably that I had an extra nerve around that area. He gave me a normal anaesthetic where he thought it was and took out the tooth without so much as a peep from me. The lesson is: trust yourself.)
(I’m deadly afraid of dentists, but one day I finally get the courage to go see one for a routine check up. They tell me I need to get my wisdom teeth removed and we set up an appointment.)
Me: “Please be patient.”
Dentist: “This will not hurt at all in a few minutes, after the anaesthetic kicks off.”
(He gives me three injections. A few minutes later he pokes me with an instrument.)
Me: “Aaaah!”
Dentist: “Okay, more anaesthetic.”
(He gives me another injection, waits a few more minutes, then pokes me with an instrument.)
Me: “OUCH, OUCH, OUCH!”
Dentist: “Don’t lie; it doesn’t hurt.”
Me: “Please, I swear it does.”
Dentist: “I can’t give you any more anaesthetic. Go home and come back next week. Take a valium.”
(One week and one valium later
Dentist: “I gave you all the anaesthetic I can. Stop crying for nothing.”
(In extreme pain, I manage to get to the opening of the area around the tooth, then he begins pulling.)
Me: “No more! Please stop!”
Dentist: “Just a bit more. Let me pull some more. It doesn’t hurt.”
Me: *refusing to open my mouth any more* “No.”
(The dentist even called my mom, and she screamed at me to stop being a wuss. Still, I refused to get anything else and he was forced to close the gap and let me go. He was kind enough to recommend another dentist with access to morphine. Thankfully the new dentist thought that my problem was probably that I had an extra nerve around that area. He gave me a normal anaesthetic where he thought it was and took out the tooth without so much as a peep from me. The lesson is: trust yourself.)
Diễn Đàn Người Việt Hải Ngoại. Tự do ngôn luận, an toàn và uy tín. V́ một tương lai tươi đẹp cho các thế hệ Việt Nam hăy ghé thăm chúng tôi, hăy tâm sự với chúng tôi mỗi ngày, mỗi giờ và mỗi giây phút có thể. VietBF.Com Xin cám ơn các bạn, chúc tất cả các bạn vui vẻ và gặp nhiều may mắn.
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