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.
Jerk, Medical Office, Nurses, USA | Healthy | July 12, 2018
(I am in high school, and for this semester I need to have a physical done so that I can participate in a mandatory PE class. My mom brings me over to the doctor’s office the school recommends, since our regular GP is currently out of town. At this time in my life, I am very active; I regularly go to karate lessons, hike, swim, and go mountain biking. I also take after my mother’s side of the family, who are built very squarish: short, with broad shoulders and hips. After going through all of the questions and tests, we have this gem of a conversation.)
Nurse: “It looks like everything is in order. Just remember that walking from the fridge to the couch is not ‘exercise.’”
Me: “Excuse me?”
Nurse: “Honey, calling it ‘hiking’ doesn’t make it any better for you.” *she turns to my mother* “Especially with that as an example.”
Mom: “I’m sorry; I didn’t realize that judgemental comments were part of the package. We don’t have to pay extra for them, do we?”
(The nurse looked shocked, but we got the paperwork we needed and headed out. We also let the doctor know about his nurse’s behavior.)
Airport, Bizarre, Health & Body, Non-Dialogue, USA, Wisconsin | Healthy | July 11, 2018
I work at a medical courier company. Basically, I go to different hospitals and pick up and drop off blood and urine samples because different hospitals are equipped to do different kinds of tests. There are some cases where the samples have to be sent on a plane because only a couple hospitals in the country do those certain tests. I go to the airport, where I drop off the box of samples. The box is big and clearly marked, “Biohazard,” and there are some stickers that say, “Biological Substances.”
I’m in line, and a woman comes up to me, looks me straight in the face, and asks, “So, is that like… arms and legs?” I just looked at her for a good 15 seconds before saying, “No.”
Blood Donation, France, Ignoring & Inattentive, Reception | Healthy | July 10, 2018
(I am a regular blood donator, something like ten times already in around five years, but I haven’t donated my platelets for almost a year due to a lack of time. I regularly get vocal messages from the Blood Donation Center asking me if I would agree to a new donation. This time, I call them back, around 20 minutes after the original call. I moved to [City #1 ], and the Blood Donation Center here does not have the proper equipment to perform platelet donation, so I am required to go back to [City #2 ] to do it, which I can only do during weekends.)
Me: “Hello, you just called me for a platelet donation. I would like to schedule an appointment, but I can only come to [City #2 ] during weekends as I’m living in [City #1 ], and I know I can’t do this at the local blood donation center.”
Lady: “Oh, yeah, please let me check.”
(She puts me on hold for around three minutes, which is rather unusual. I’m a bit busy, so it gets on my nerves, but hey, it’s supporting a good cause.)
Lady: “Well, [City #1 ]’s center never had the proper equipment for platelet donation.”
Me: “Yes, I know. That’s why I want an appointment in [City #2 ], on a weekend.”
Lady: “Well, okay. I have something on [date two weeks later] at 10:00 or 10:30; is that okay for you?”
Me: “Yeah, 10:30 would be perfect.”
Lady: “So 10:00.”
Me: “No, 10:30.”
Lady: “Okay. May I have your name?”
Me: “It’s [My Name].”
Lady: “I can’t find you. You’re not in the registry. You never donated your platelets, did you?”
Me: “Well, how could you call me, and leave me a vocal message asking me to come back to donate platelets, if I’m not in your registry?”
Lady: “I can’t find you. You’re not in the registry. If you had ever donated blood or platelets, you would be in the registry.”
Me: “You see, that’s also why I almost never call back.”
(I called back the next day, got another lady on the phone, and surprisingly — not really — got an appointment booked, as she very easily found me in the registry.)
Doctor/Physician, Extra Stupid, Germany, Health & Body, home, Siblings | Healthy | July 10, 2018
(The minute my brother graduates from medical school, my family turns him into their private doctor. Every little ailment or problem is run by him, even if it’s something completely normal. Our grandparents especially tend to call him at the oddest times to ask about this thing hurting or this bit feeling weird. One day in my kitchen, I burn myself very badly all over my upper arm. I don’t have time or money to go to the ER or see a doctor, so I just treat it the way I learned in first-aid class. It heals fine, except the area of skin is now a darker shade than the rest, and rougher.)
Brother: *noticing the dark, scarred areas a few weeks later* “[My Name], what’s that? It looks like burn marks.”
Me: “Yep. I burned myself with boiling water, but I treated it this way–” *explains everything I did*
Brother: “Okay, luckily you did do everything properly, but I’m still angry. You’re literally the first one in the family to actually need my medical expertise, and you didn’t ask for it?!”
Me: “I didn’t want to bother you like the grandparents do all the time.”
Brother: “You had second degree burns! Maybe even third! You should’ve seen a doctor, like your own brother.”
(I agree now that I was young, naive, and quite dumb not to call him. I’m planning to cover the scars with tattoos, anyway. My brother has requested at least one tattoo dedicated to him to remind me of my own stupidity.)
Columbus, Doctor/Physician, Medical Office, Ohio, Silly, USA | Healthy | July 9, 2018
(After 20 years of seeing only female OB/GYNs, I have moved to a new city and can only get in to see a male gynecologist. I have been reassured by a friend, who is also a doctor, that he is one of the best in his field, but I’m nervous even after chatting with him at his desk. Once I’m by myself and getting “into the position” in an exam room, I notice only one stirrup is up, leaving my foot away from the wall hanging loose.)
Doctor: *knocks politely before entering* “Okay, are you settled in?”
Me: “Well, I couldn’t scoot to the edge of the table because only one stirrup is working. Is it broken?”
Doctor: *smiling and wincing* “No, I just wait until I’m seated to move up that one. Walking into it once was enough to never let that happen again.”
Me: *realizing it would be at groin level for him as well as for me* “Well, that is an occupational hazard I wouldn’t have considered!”
Columbus, Doctor/Physician, Medical Office, Ohio, Silly, USA | Healthy | July 9, 2018
(After 20 years of seeing only female OB/GYNs, I have moved to a new city and can only get in to see a male gynecologist. I have been reassured by a friend, who is also a doctor, that he is one of the best in his field, but I’m nervous even after chatting with him at his desk. Once I’m by myself and getting “into the position” in an exam room, I notice only one stirrup is up, leaving my foot away from the wall hanging loose.)
Doctor: *knocks politely before entering* “Okay, are you settled in?”
Me: “Well, I couldn’t scoot to the edge of the table because only one stirrup is working. Is it broken?”
Doctor: *smiling and wincing* “No, I just wait until I’m seated to move up that one. Walking into it once was enough to never let that happen again.”
Me: *realizing it would be at groin level for him as well as for me* “Well, that is an occupational hazard I wouldn’t have considered!”
Bad Behavior, California, Hospital, Jerk, Los Angeles, Nurses, Patients, Time, USA | Healthy | July 8, 2018
(I am in the waiting room of an OBGYN office I’ve never been to before. It is the only one in the area that is in my HMO insurance network. It’s late morning; appointments are not meant to be longer than 20 minutes, so I am planning to attend classes afterwards. When I walk in, I’m told that there is an extremely long wait time, even though we all have timed appointments — and are actually meant to be seen at that time. Though every hospital and office in this entire HMO company has a policy that if a patient checks in more than 15 minutes late they lose their appointment, obviously no equal rules have ever applied to providers being penalized for lateness. I have waited an hour already. Another patient, who is waiting for the same doctor, is sitting next to me with her newborn baby.)
Patient: “Oh, yeah. It’s aaaaalways been this way in this office for as long as I’ve been coming here. They’re aaaaalways extremely behind schedule.”
(This is not reassuring; since she’s got a baby, one can assume she’s been a patient with frequent appointments here for at least nine months.)
Patient: “Yeah, that’s why I’ve always made sure to get the very first appointment super-early in the morning. That’s absolutely the only way to get out of here on time. I just couldn’t manage it today. Oh, but don’t worry; I’ll be super-quick with my appointment, only five minutes. So you all won’t have to wait too much longer!”
(It’s nice of her, but we’re all already extremely late, anyway. I’m pretty appalled that a woman with a newborn is being made to wait around like this for well over an hour; luckily, her baby keeps on sleeping. I also wonder, if this office always runs severely late, why don’t they at least warn patients when we make our appointments? Many patients go up to ask the nurses several times what is going on with the excessive wait time. From overhearing them, it becomes clear that at least half a dozen of them are waiting for the same doctor I am, who appears to be the main cause of waiting-room congestion. The nurses seem extremely practiced at politely fobbing us off while giving non-answers about why this is happening or how much longer it’ll be, as well as pretending to be helpless and confused themselves, while giving off the heavy impression that this is actually all “business as usual.” I’m extremely unhappy; there is no end to the wait in sight, and it’s clear I’ll miss my classes. In other circumstances I’d just leave, but I am there because of suspicion of a uterine tumor and absolutely need to have tests done. Most people resign themselves to waiting, except for one young woman, who checked in 20 minutes after me, and keeps on whining to the nurses over and over. After waiting less than an hour, she starts going towards the exit door in showy slow-motion, while she declares extra loudly to the entire room that she’s leaving since she must get back to her job. I feel extremely skeptical of this, as she is dressed very unprofessionally, even by the standards of the most casual minimum-wage job, and has multiple large, prominent facial piercings.)
Nurse: “Oh, no! No, Ms. [Whiny Patient], don’t leave!”
Whiny Patient: “Oh, I absolutely have to get back to work! There’s no way I can stay here any longer!”
Nurse: “If you wait just a moment, I’ll go right away to ask the doctor if she can accommodate you sooner! Just wait right here!”
(The nurse goes inside the medical office, and comes back within two minutes to call the whiny patient in to be seen by the doctor immediately. I am shocked, as I know this girl was in line behind me, and there’s still at least one other person in front of me, as well. I go up to the nurses again.)
Me: “Excuse me, but I believe that young woman who just went in is seeing the same doctor as me, and several other people here.”
Me: “Did you really just call her in ahead of all of us, including those that were here first?!”
Nurse: “Well, yes. You see, she is in a very great hurry to get back to work. So we just had to see her now. [Doctor] did her a favor and managed to squeeze her in sooner.” *without appearing to realize the actual obvious meaning of that sentence*
Me: “Oh, my God, really?! [Doctor] did her a favor and squeezed her in?! What you’re actually saying is you talked Dr. [Doctor] into seeing her sooner, at all of the rest of our expense, without even consulting us! Neither [Doctor] nor any of you lost anything by doing this! You all just chose to steal several other people’s time for your own convenience of not having to explain the reason behind the patient’s appointment cancellation after she’d already showed up and paid for it! Wow, I wish I’d thought of getting up, whining a lot, and loudly threatening to leave; apparently it would have gotten me seen a lot sooner, too!”
(Even besides me, there were very good odds that some of the other patients also had to get to work — no one was even asked. But we all acted like adults and dealt with it instead of making a loud fuss to skip ahead of others in line. The nurse and doctor just decided that since we didn’t throw up a fuss, it automatically meant our time was worthless compared to [Whiny Patient]’s, and could be taken away from us with no notice. [Whiny Patient]’s appointment was not quick in the least. By the time she left, and then they finished with the other patient ahead of me, I was called in a whopping hour and 42 minutes later than my scheduled appointment time. While [Doctor] seemed likable and competent in person — once I finally got to see her — I couldn’t help questioning both her character and her competency in my head through the entire appointment because of the unprofessional mess with the waiting room. After leaving there, since they’d already ensured I would fully miss all my classes that day, I went straight up a couple of floors in the hospital, to the Member Services department– where they saw me very promptly, even with no appointment — and submitted a complaint face-to-face with a nice, attentive employee who typed up everything I told him. I made sure to tell him every detail, including the 1:40 wait time and the long-time patient who told me that the OBGYN office always operates this way. It’s been several years, and I have never gone back to that office.)
(A close friend of mine is visiting me for dinner. She has leukemia, but is in remission at this point. It should probably be noted that we share a pretty dark sense of humor, which is how we both cope with her illness.)
Me: “What have you been doing lately?”
Friend: “I had tests at [Only Major Hospital in the area] this week.”
Me: “Oh, that sucks. I was there with mom when she had tests done a few years back, and the wait was horrible. There’s always so many people!”
Friend: “Oh, I got seen pretty quickly.”
Me: “Did you get there early, or was it good timing?”
Friend: “No, I just put [Initials] in the top corner of the admission forms, and they took me right in.”
Me: “What do they mean?”
Friend: “It’s the shorthand code for ‘to be seen immediately.’ My doctors used it all the time. I just put it in myself, now.”
Me: *laughing* “I knew you were wicked! You’re skipping the line in the hospital?”
Friend: *also laughing* “Hey, I have cancer! And also better things to do with my time than wait in line.”
(Unfortunately, her cancer returned, twice, and she lost the battle against it several years ago. But stories like this one still make me laugh when I tell people about her.)
Comeuppance, Illinois, Jerk, Patients, Pharmacy, USA | Healthy | July 6, 2018
(I go to the pharmacy department of a larger than normal location of a major retailer. It’s about 2:25 pm, and the gates to the pharmacy counter are down with a sign apologizing for being closed for lunch. There are about four people ahead of me in line. Though I am in a hurry, I decide to stay since the sign states that they will reopen in five minutes. Four minutes later, the gates reopen, and the pharmacist is at the counter alone, since her support staff hasn’t returned yet. She greets the first man in line.)
Pharmacist: “Thank you for waiting. How may I help you, sir?”
Man: “I’m here to pick up my prescription, under [Man].”
(The pharmacist verifies personal information with the man.)
Man: *as the pharmacist is ringing up the order* “I had to wait ten minutes for you guys to open! It’s just ridiculous that—”
Pharmacist: *cutting the man off, in a tone that is both mockingly concerned, and professional* “Yes, sir, it is ridiculous that I have to work a ten-hour shift, and am only allowed twenty minutes to sit down and eat in the back of this store. I’m so sorry that you had to wait that short amount of time. Your total is [amount].”
(The man said nothing further, refused to make eye contact with anyone, paid, and left. By then, her staff had returned, and the pharmacist went to the back of the work area, immediately answering the phone. The staff made short work of the rest of the people in line, who all were friendly to the workers. I was out the door before 2:40 pm.)
Bad Behavior, Pennsylvania, Pets & Animals, USA, Vet | Healthy | July 5, 2018
(I recently started working as a veterinarian at a clinic. We have one client who has become infamous for not giving his dog the sedative medications we recommended to help keep him comfortable during his visits. His anxiety at the office is so bad, we requested two different medications be used together, though often neither are given. As a result, whenever we have to do anything with the dog, we require the owner to place a muzzle on him, and our technicians have to wrestle with the dog while he is crying out in fear. We expect the client may get some kind of thrill watching these exchanges. The owner and dog are here for their recheck appointment with me, after choosing to try over the counter medications to try to deal with his dog’s problem. It is only me, the owner, and the dog for the exchange.)
Owner: “I think the skin is doing much better! Before, I couldn’t run my hands down his back, but now I can without a problem.”
Me: “That’s great. Is it true he’s still itching?”
Owner: “Yeah, but the scabs have gone away, except for one like this one on his side.”
(He show me one small scab. When I try to touch it, the dog barks and jerks in fear. The owner smirks a bit.)
Me: “Well, that’s good that the scabs have healed, but we’re still left with what to do about the itching. Our options are—”
Owner: *interrupting* “I know, I know, but look how much better it is! Isn’t the belly so much better?” *picks up terrified dog to show me his abdomen, freaking the dog out further*
Me: “It may be, but I can’t touch your dog to see how the skin is really doing.”
(This seems to really annoy the client.)
Owner: “Yeah, you can! I’ll just hold him really tight!”
Me: “But your dog is terrified, and that is not the type of relationship I want with your dog. That is why we want him to be on those medications when he comes in. That way, he can be more comfortable, and I can reward him with treats when he behaves well.”
Owner: “No, really it’s fine!” *hook his arms around the dog to hold him, further scaring the dog* “Here! Doesn’t the belly look so much better?” *lifts the dog again*
Me: “Yes, the belly looks better from what I can see, but I can’t touch him. I’m not going to foster that kind of relationship with your dog. We have two options. Either I can take him in the back with my techs–” *he had previously behaved better away from his owner* “–or you can come back when your dog has had his medications.”
(At this, the owner stormed out of the room, walked past the receptionist, and headed out the door. I zeroed out the re-exam fee, as I didn’t expect to charge him for a visual exam only, and put in a note about our interaction. I just hope he will start giving his dog the medications, rather than trying to force his dog into fearful situations.)
Dallas, Ignoring & Inattentive, Patients, Pharmacy, Texas, USA | Healthy | July 5, 2018
(I pull into a drive-thru pharmacy to pick up my prescription, and there’s just one car in front of me. It’s ten full minutes before the car in front of me drives off and I can pull up to the window, but I’m not in a hurry, so I don’t really mind.)
Me: “I’m picking up a prescription for [My Last Name].”
Pharmacist: “Okay, let me just pull that up.”
(She’s gone for a few minutes, and I’m starting to think that this is why the line was slow. Obviously, I think, they must have new people there who don’t know what they’re doing. When she comes back
Pharmacist: “I’m sorry, but I don’t have any filled prescriptions listed under your name.”
Me: “But I got an email saying my prescription was ready.”
Pharmacist: “I don’t know what to say. We have you in our system from about two years ago, but there’s nothing recent.”
Me: “Can you check again? I got the email, so I know it’s ready.”
(The pharmacist is gone even longer this time, and I’m starting to feel pretty righteously indignant.)
Pharmacist: “No, we don’t have anything ready for you.”
Me: “Look, that just doesn’t make sense. I don’t understand how I can have an email from Walgreens right here saying that my prescription is ready, but you guys apparently don’t have it.”
Pharmacist: *blank stare* “Ma’am, this is CVS.”
(I felt like such a complete moron that I just drove away in embarrassment. Pharmacist, if you’re out there, I’m really sorry I didn’t apologize!)
Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Illinois, Jerk, Nurses, USA | Healthy | July 4, 2018
(I am working at a retail chain one night. While helping pick up empty pallets around the store, I pass out for no discernible reason, completely losing consciousness and only waking up briefly at the store to EMTs loading me into an ambulance. Strangely, I remember the rest of the events pretty clearly.)
Me: “No, no ambulance. I don’t want to go to the hospital; I don’t have money.”
EMT: “You have to go.”
Me: *trying to sit up and move away* “No, I’m fine. I don’t want to go to the hospital.”
(I lose consciousness again after that and wake up in the actual hospital room to a nurse taking my vitals.)
Me: *still groggy* “Um… Where am I? What happened?”
Nurse: “You’re in the hospital. What drugs did you take?”
Me: “Huh? I’m not on any medicine.”
Nurse: “No, what drugs did you take?”
Me: “None?”
Nurse: “Come on. You’re not in trouble; just tell me what drugs you’re on.”
Me: “I’m not on any drugs!”
(The nurse just gave me side-eye and left at that point, only to return with a doctor a few minutes later.)
Nurse: “Okay, you need to tell us what drugs you’re on.”
Me: *having recovered enough now to be (mostly) sensible* “I told you: I’m not on any drugs! I’m fine; I’d like to go now.”
Nurse: “You can’t leave until you tell us what drugs you’re on. Just tell us what you took and you can go.”
Me: “I’m. Not. On. Drugs. I don’t even know what happened!”
Doctor: “If you tell us what drugs you’re on, we can help you.”
Me: *out of patience* “I’m not on drugs! Why are you not listening?”
(Fortunately, my friend from work came in and did her best to assure the staff that, no, I was not on drugs. They finally ran some tests and let me leave, but I don’t think they ever believed I wasn’t on something. Seriously, I get you have to ask, but there has to be a limit. Plus, you HAVE my blood.)
Bizarre, Patients, Pets & Animals, USA, Vet | Healthy | July 4, 2018
(A very distraught-looking woman rushes into our emergency vet clinic with a garter snake in a shoebox. It would seem that she accidentally ran it over with her car while backing out of the driveway. The snake was horrifically mangled, but is still somehow unfortunately alive. It becomes instantly clear that it’s not going to make it.)
Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but unfortunately I don’t think we can do anything to help this snake. At the very least, we can put him to sleep so at least he doesn’t have to suffer anymore.”
Woman: “I understand.”
(She looks very upset and begins crying.)
Me: “Just think of it this way. He’ll be chasing mice in Snake Heaven.”
Woman: “But snakes don’t go to Heaven! He’ll be partying down in Hell with the Devil!”
(She then walked out of the clinic, still crying, leaving me with the dying snake in the shoebox. I wish I could say that was the weirdest response that I’ve ever received when trying to comfort someone, but it’s not even close
Bad Behavior, Medical Office, Nurses, USA | Healthy | July 4, 2018
(I live in a small town where everybody knows everybody, and we have one family practice with three or four doctors on staff. When I am 12, I have to go on an antibiotic for two weeks. The nurse tells me what to prepare for, since it is a new medicine.)
Nurse: “You may feel sleepy. You may cough more. You may have diarrhea.”
Me: “Eww!”
Nurse: “Part of the deal, I’m afraid. Do you have any questions?”
Me: “Nope.”
Mother: “No, we’re good to go.”
Nurse: “All right.” *walks is to the lobby* “I hope you feel bet– Oh! Use condoms.”
Mother: “What?!”
Nurse: “Antibiotics can negate birth control. She’ll need to use another contraceptive.”
Me: *bright red and ready to cry* “But… I don’t… I’m not…”
Mother: “She is not sexually active.”
Nurse: “She’s not on the pill?”
Mother: “No! She’s 12!”
Nurse: “You can never be too careful. [Classmate Of Mine] is due to have her first baby in a few weeks, and she’s 13. [My Name] should really start birth control after these antibiotics.”
Mother: “[My Name], are you having sex?”
Me: *mortified* “NO!”
Nurse: “Children lie.”
Mother: “And that’s what she is: a child. She hasn’t even had her first period yet.”
(While I’m waiting for the floor to open up and swallow me whole, the nurse and my mother go back and forth about my nonexistent sex life until one of the doctors comes out.)
Doctor: “What is going on out here?!”
Nurse: “[My Name] is going on antibiotics, so I told her to use condoms for a while.”
Doctor: “I… I don’t even know where to begin with that. Please forgive us Mrs. [Our Last Name], [My Name]. If you have any further questions, please call me directly.”
(The doctor handed my mother her card and mother pulled me out of the office. When we returned a few weeks later to report back about the antibiotics, we learned that the insistent nurse no longer worked there. Obviously, some children do what they want, when they want. But given that boys were still pretty gross to me, I couldn’t imagine needing birth control at that age.)
Bad Behavior, home, Israel, Parents/Guardians, Patients | Healthy | July 3, 2018
(I am nine years old. I have a pretty weak constitution and frequently fall ill. Every winter, like clockwork, I’ll get pneumonia, among other illnesses. I learn to recognize and become familiar with the sensation of my lungs feeling full of lead, and sharp, stabbing pain overtaking my ribcage on every inhale. I can’t breathe in enough oxygen to get out of bed. My parents choose their own methods of medical treatment for me. I’ve been bed-bound for days with pneumonia; I’ve got a high fever and am struggling to breathe. My parents have been bringing me occasional water and soup, and some seemingly random, unnamed medicines. Mom comes in, sits on the bed, and hands me a cup of medicine.)
Mom: “You need to drink this.”
(I take a sip. It’s horrifically bitter. I gag, cough, and hand it back.)
Me: “I… can’t… It’s… bitter… and gross!”
Mom: “You have to drink it, anyway; it’s medicine! You need to drink your medicine!”
Mom: “Well, if you want to whine about it, fine.” *offhandedly* “Just know that since you’re severely ill, this is the only medicine that will save your life! If you won’t drink it, you’re going to die!“
Me: “…” *shock*
Mom: *matter-of-factly* “Yes, you are! You are so horrifically sick that you’ll die if you don’t drink all of this! Probably very quickly! Tonight, in fact! But I guess you don’t want it, so I’m just going to take this away now! I’m leaving with the medicine now, since you’re choosing to die!”
(She pauses.)
Mom: “Now. Are you suuuuuure you don’t want it?!” *wiggles the cup in front of me*
Me: *horrified fear*
(Of course, I reluctantly took the medicine back and choked it down miserably, while gagging and struggling not to throw up or expel my lungs. They continued “treating” me this way for years for every serious illness. Looking back, I think it’s likely it was some “medicinal” Russian tea, or maybe some over-the-counter unflavored children’s fever reducer like acetaminophen or Aspirin, and I really wouldn’t be surprised if they chose an unflavored version to save money. Some of the other “folk remedies” my parents inflicted on me to “treat” pneumonia were much more disturbing and gross. For some reason, they seemed to just treat these illnesses like regular colds. They never once took me to a doctor or hospital, no matter how bad it got or how high my fever, despite living in a country with free social healthcare, and otherwise regularly taking me to a doctor for check-ups and vaccines.)
Amsterdam, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Jerk, The Netherlands | Healthy | July 3, 2018
(I am having a conversation with a rheumatologist.)
Rheumatologist: “One thing that you probably don’t want to hear is that it would help with some of your symptoms if you were to lose some weight.”
Me: “Yes, I agree. If you look here–” *I tap the relevant paragraph in the paperwork in front of her* “–I have detailed the years I have been struggling to lose weight and the steps I have taken, and have asked if you have any suggestions on how to try to tackle this issue.”
Rheumatologist: “It’s just that your back pain and foot pain will probably be lessened by weight loss.”
Me: “Yes, that’s one of the reasons I have been trying for so many years to lose weight.”
Rheumatologist: “Well, I would suggest you try going to a certified dietician.”
Me: “Here you can see the three I have visited, one of them a year ago, one three years before that, and one three or four years before that. I followed all of their advice to the letter and I did not lose weight.”
Rheumatologist: “Well, it’s still something you might want to try.”
Me: “Well, it isn’t covered completely by my insurance, and I am very poor, so I don’t think I’ll be able to go a fourth time right now.”
Rheumatologist: “I understand. But it might be worth a try, anyway.”
Me: “Well, I will go a fourth time when I can afford it.”
Rheumatologist: “Oh, you’ve been before?”
Me: “Yes. Three. Times.”
Rheumatologist: “Well, maybe you should try going to one via the doctor so that you know you are going to a properly-certified one.”
Me: “I will do this a fourth time when I have the money.”
Rheumatologist: “Oh, you’ve gone to one the doctor sent you to already?”
Me: “Yes. Three. Times.”
Rheumatologist: “Oh, all right. Well, what else have you tried?”
Me: “As you see here—” *tapping paperwork again* “—I have, over the past ten years, done the following: two years of sticking religiously to less than 1500 calories per day while also walking briskly for two hours each day, three attempts with professional dieticians via the doctor, the keto diet for eight months which I just stopped, three years of fasting for three days every couple of months, an intensified exercise program designed by a physiotherapist, and periodic further attempts such as ten months only drinking slim-fast for breakfast and lunch and then eating a minimal dinner. At the moment, I walk a lot and now that my sprained ankle will, after 11 months, finally allow it, I am starting my home fitness routine again, with a cross-trainer and resistance training as far as my back and other joint ills will allow.”
Rheumatologist: “You know what doesn’t cost money? Exercise!”
Me: “Yes… As I said — and wrote — I walk a lot and am working on starting my routine again. At the moment, I walk a minimum of one hour a day just in the normal way of things and I try to do more. I walk pretty fast.”
Rheumatologist: “I understand, but really, it’s not that hard to get started. Maybe just try with 20 minutes every other day and see how that treats you, then build up from there.”
Me: “I. Already. Walk. More. Than. One. Hour. Every. Day.”
Rheumatologist: “I understand. Well, I know you don’t want to hear this, but it sounds like you need to scrap all the fad diet kicks and just eat fewer calories.”
Me: “Yes, I just stopped the keto diet and I will now again do the calorie-counting, while walking more than an hour a day, but as I said, I have already tried reducing the calories and I haven’t had any luck so far. But yes, obviously I will be doing that; otherwise I would gain weight and I really don’t want to do that!“
Rheumatologist: “Well, I understand why you wouldn’t want to do it; if you eat fewer calories, you will have to suffer feelings of hunger sometimes. I understand that this is difficult, so you might not want to do it, but it really is important that you try.”
Me: “Um… Here–” *tapping paperwork again* “–is where it says that I fasted for three days every couple of months for three years. I am not afraid of feelings of hunger.”
Rheumatologist: “Well, okay… I just think it would be good for you to give it a shot. Maybe start with 20 minutes of light walking every day, and see if you can reduce your calories a bit at a time. Maybe cut out desserts a couple of times a week; start from there. Anyway, obviously it won’t cure your fibromyalgia or anything, but if you could lose some weight it would help with the daily toll on your skeletal system, and with the amount of wear-and-tear you’re dealing with that would only be a good thing. Do you have any questions?”
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