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.
Doctors, Hospital, Jerk, Nurses, USA, Washington | Healthy | August 30, 2018
(I’ve just had my first child. I went into labor at night and he was born just after midnight. My boyfriend manages to get the next morning off, but as he’s the assistant manager of a dock, he has to go in the next afternoon. I’m not worried, as there’s not much concern for me or my son. The next day, my OBGYN comes in.)
Doctor: “Hey, [My Name], how are you feeling?”
Me: “Still sore. Is everything all right?”
Doctor: “Oh, yeah. I just want to let you know that a nurse wanted me to call Child Protection Services for you.”
(I freak out a bit, but he laughs.)
Doctor: “Don’t worry; I won’t. Apparently, because of your boyfriend having to go to work, she didn’t think you guys were capable of taking care of your son. It’s pretty stupid.”
(I relaxed after that. My son came home a day later and, with some help from friends, we had no problems with taking care of him.)
Hospital, Jerk, Non-Dialogue, Nurses, Patients, UK |
Healthy | August 29, 2018
I have been dating my boyfriend for a few years. He is allergic to nuts. Eating them makes him very sick, so since we started dating I have stayed away from nuts, out of fear of cross contamination making him sick.
This particular day my work was doing a bake sale for charity. One of the things for sale was a Reese’s Pieces brownie, with whole chunks of peanut. I was very happy to have a place where it would be safe for me to have peanuts, so I bought one and ate it straight away.
Pretty much instantly I thought that my tongue felt a bit strange, but being an idiot I thought it was just my imagination and I ate that brownie in about half a minute.
In the next few minutes my thoughts went from, “My mouth feels a little strange,” to, “It’s definitely getting harder to breathe.” I mentioned this to my manager, a first aider, but she thought I was joking. So I went to the receptionist, also a first aider, and mentioned it to her. She realised I wasn’t joking and panicked, running to get my manager.
An ambulance was called and the staff sat with me as I waited and waited, in discomfort, and with no idea if it was going to get any worse. I vaguely remember joking to the baker that “these brownies are killer.” I thought it was funny at the time. Pretty sure she didn’t.
After about 45 minutes with no ambulance, they called 999 again. That’s when we found out that the first ambulance couldn’t find their way into the office block — through the clearly-marked entrance — so they just gave up.
The second ambulance came, and a decision to go to hospital was made, considering that I had no history of an allergy.
We got to A & E and it was unsurprisingly busy. The paramedics were told to put me in resus until another bed cleared, as there was a space in there. They gave me antihistamines and steroids, and by this point I was feeling a lot better, but a secondary reaction was possible, so I still needed an eye on me.
That’s when a nurse came in with a face like thunder, took one look at me, and declared to the whole room at full volume, “She’s not sick! She shouldn’t be in here!”
She repeated this several times, while I just sat there nervously; I’m anxious enough most days, without someone telling me off for being somewhere I have no control over. I had no idea how to respond, so I just sat there ignoring her. She wasn’t doing anything except look at me and make these comments again and again.
Eventually they found a normal bed to put me in, and I got moved, but as they moved me, she declared to the medics and porters around her, “See?! I told you she’s not sick!”
A later blood test confirmed that I had developed a peanut allergy at 23. Luckily I didn’t have a secondary reaction, and it was a pretty easy lifestyle change to avoid, since I was already avoiding them for my partner.
Baltimore, Extra Stupid, Hospital, Maryland, Non-Dialogue, Nurses, USA | Healthy | August 29, 2018
I am going down the steps from my porch and misstep, and end up breaking my leg in three places right near my ankle. It is a Friday night, so I can’t get an appointment with the orthopedic surgeon until Monday.
When I go in for my appointment, I first see a nurse assistant with a very unique name. We talk about how it happened and my medical history. And because I’m female, she asks when my last period was. It has been almost a year. I’m on continuous birth control, despite not being sexually active, because during that time of the month, my migraines and fibromyalgia get to the point where I can’t function. She then goes to get the doctor, and from the room she has taken us to, we hear an argument break out over “who cancelled the appointment of the broken ankle girl.” I still don’t see how that’s possible, considering we made that appointment only an hour earlier. I end up being seen by another doctor with more of a specialty in what I need, so it works out and I forget about the weirdness.
Fast forward a week to when I can finally have surgery. I’m in the hospital gown, have an IV in, and I’m being asked the same questions again and again: spell my name, what’s my birth date, etc. Finally the nurse looks at me funny and looks at my ankle splint — which has a ton of padding and is massive — and tells me, “I know it seems obvious, but I need you to tell me what you’re here for.” I tell her to fix my ankle. She nods and tells me that that nurse assistant — I remember her unique name — had put me down as coming in for a hysterectomy. I’m not sure if she was trying to — inaccurately — note in my file that I’d had one because I hadn’t had my period in a year, or somehow managed to screw up why I was seeing an orthopedic surgeon when I had three broken bones. But I guess that will forever be a mystery
Bad Behavior, Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Malaysia, Petaling Jaya | Healthy | August 29, 2018
(I have a bad flu that doesn’t get better for two weeks, resulting in me coughing out bloody phlegm. I go to the hospital to get a checkup to see if anything is really wrong. When I get called into the clinic, the doctor, probably in his 50s or so, asks me about my sickness. He has this really smug look on his face, and I don’t think much about it until I start telling him about my symptoms. When I tell him that my illness began two weeks ago, he gets pissed off. He throws a calendar at me
Doctor: “Don’t tell me when; tell me the exact date. Point it out on the calendar.”
(I am dazed and try to recall the exact date I got sick. Meanwhile, he is mumbling about how youngsters have a worse memory than he does. I get pissed off, as well, from his attitude. I slam the calendar onto the table and point at the date. It isn’t the exact date but somewhere there. I take a wild guess.)
Doctor: “I suspect that you may have tuberculosis, but it’s still too early to get an x-ray because it wouldn’t show up. So, you may or may not have it. I don’t know.”
(After that, he had the d*** nerve to say I didn’t respect him, for slamming the calendar on the table. He prescribed antibiotics and I got better. Thank heavens I didn’t have to go back and see him.)
Beaverton, Billing, Jerk, Medical Office, Oregon, USA | Healthy | August 28, 2018
(I went to a doctor appointment, and during that appointment they were suppose to give me a tetanus shot. They gave me the wrong shot. So I had to go back into the doctor later to get the tetanus shot I was suppose to get the first time. When I went back in, I just got the shot, then left; no other service was provided. I then get a bill for the second visit, and this exchange happens when I call their billing department.)
Me: “I am calling regarding a bill I got. I don’t think I should be charged for this appointment because the only reason I had to come in was because of an error by the nurse.”
Billing: “I show here you had an appointment on [first date] and you paid your copay; is that correct?”
Me: “Yes.”
Billing: “Then I show you had a follow up appointment on [second date], and you did not pay your copay. That is why we are billing you.”
Me: “That’s why I’m calling. The appointment on the [second date] was only required because your nurse made a mistake on the [first date]. If she had not made a mistake, I wouldn’t have come in for that appointment.”
Billing: “I understand, sir, but since you came in for the second appointment, then we need to bill you for that appointment. Since your insurance covered everything but the copay, you have to pay that copay.”
Me: “Let me explain again. On the first appointment, your nurse made a mistake. She gave me the wrong injection. I had to come in for the second appointment only because she made a mistake. If she had not made the mistake, I wouldn’t have come back in.”
Billing: “It doesn’t matter; you still have to pay.”
Me: *getting frustrated now* “Okay, let me ask you this another way. After your nurse made a mistake the first time, I could have gone to a lawyer, or filed a complaint against your practice. Also, I could have filed a complaint with my insurance provider, since you have actually billed them twice for getting the same injection. I did none of those things. So your choice is to now credit my account for the copay, or my next call will be to the medical practice board, and then my insurance company.”
Billing: “One moment, please.” *puts me on hold for about five minutes then comes back* “I’ve talked to the doctor. We are going to waive that copay, but we will not do it again for any further visits.”
(After that call I found a new doctor. No surprise, his practice went out of business a few months later. I know people complain how everyone is lawsuit-happy nowadays. You’d think if you had a patient who wasn’t interested in going the legal route but just didn’t want to be charged for their mistake they would happily oblige. I guess not.)
Ignoring & Inattentive, Medical Office, Paramedic, Patients, UK | Healthy | August 27, 2018
(I’m 22 years old, female, and reasonably healthy for my age while living away at university. When I’m home at my parents for Christmas, I suddenly get a sharp pain in the centre of my chest, radiating out to the centre of my right rib cage. It’s not too severe at first, but I cannot walk straight and end up laying on the floor for two hours.)
Mom: *sitting on my bed, trying to keep me calm, talking to the out-of-hours telephone service, as well* “This pain has never happened before; I’m not really sure what to do here.”
Phone Responder: “All right, there’s not much we can do, unfortunately; judging by your description it could be a diaphragm spasm or a fructose allergy causing the tightness. You can give her pain relief, but all we can recommend is to call your GP in the morning.”
Mom: “All right, thank you.”
(Thankfully, the pain passes in about three hours, so we figure it’s a one-time thing and continue our lives. I get more pains, like this one and worse, about two or three times a year until I’m 24, where I finally go to my GP after a particularly bad “attack” where I end up vomiting from the pain.)
Me: *describes the symptoms in detail* “I was speaking to a family friend who’s had gallstones and says she had the same pains. Could it be that?”
Doctor: “Hmm, I doubt it; you’re simply too young and too healthy for it. It’s probably acid reflux. Try some [Known Heartburn Brand] for a while and see how you get on with that.”
(I leave and do as he asks, and for a while it seems to work… until this year at the age of 25. I have a pain so bad I begin violently vomiting, begging my mom to call an ambulance because I’m convinced something inside me has ruptured because of the severity of the pain. She does, and thankfully they arrive within minutes. I’m unable to talk because of the pain, so my mom is the one having to describe everything.)
Mom: *helping me explain the pain and pointing where it is on her own body, since I’m curled up into a ball on the bathroom floor* “She’s had these pains before, but never this bad. We don’t like to bother emergency services unless it’s severe.”
Paramedic: “We’ll try paracetamol and [heartburn medicine] first to see if that helps. Is that okay?”
(I nod, and the paramedics do as they promised, but after 20 minutes the pain is still worsening and I’m not able to think on anything else anymore. I can’t breathe, I feel like I’m dying or I’m going to pass out, and it’s overall a terrifying experience.)
Paramedic: “All right, since that’s not helping we’re going to give her some gas and air until we can move her over to the bed and check her over, okay?”
Mom: “That’s fine; she’s definitely not allergic to anything, so she can have whatever is needed.”
(Thankfully, the gas and air dulls the pain enough for me to get off the bathroom floor onto my bed, but it’s still severe and I’m shivering from the intensity. The paramedics do all their checks, pressing on the area with the pain, which causes me to cry again.)
Paramedic: “I think she’s got something wrong with her gallbladder. It’s unusual for her age, but it’s the only explanation for this pain and the area of it. I think it would be wise for her to go to hospital to check for sludge stuck in there or stones.”
(My mom agreed, but I insisted that she stay home so she didn’t have to see me in pain anymore. Once I was in the ambulance, I was also given morphine and some anti-vomiting medicine, as I was still being sick. At the hospital, the pain was starting to fade and eventually the emergency room nurse discharged me with the diagnosis of stress from just finishing university. I was tired, delirious, and fed up at this point, so even though I tried to argue, I didn’t have the strength and I left. I went back to my GP a few weeks later, and with a note from the ambulance team included in my file with their suspicions, and my mom not letting me leave without an answer, I was booked in for an ultrasound and a blood test. The ultrasound revealed I had some of the biggest gallstones the staff had ever seen in someone of my age, and I’m now waiting on surgery to remove my entire gallbladder. Just because someone doesn’t match the “average” symptom group doesn’t mean it’s absolutely not that illness, and if I had been listened to in the first place, I wouldn’t be losing my gallbladder!)
Comeuppance, Dentist, Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Nurses, USA | Healthy | August 27, 2018
(I haven’t been to the dentist for several years, but an old family friend — who cleaned my teeth when I was a child — has recently moved to the area, so I go to her for a cleaning. The following takes place with her hands and tools inside my mouth, so I can’t spit.)
Hygienist: “You really need to brush your rear teeth better. I know you can, because they’re clean right now. But your lazy brushing has caused all sorts of problems back here. And you really need to lay off the soda. Really, sugar in general. And high-acid foods and drinks. Soda is pretty much the worst, though. And greasy food isn’t much better! You clearly eat too much fast food, and it’s not good for you. Your back teeth are just falling apart because of all that junk food!”
(Her tirade continues for more than ten minutes. She lectures me like I’m still a child despite that I’m in my mid-20s, before she finally removes her hands so I can pause to rinse and spit. She immediately reaches to start again, but I hold up a hand.)
Me: “We need to get something straight. I don’t eat high-acid foods, or greasy foods. I can’t afford to eat out, even cheap fast food. And I have soda maybe once a month. And while I don’t claim to be perfect, and do occasionally forget to brush before bed when I’m exhausted, I am meticulous about cleaning all my teeth, especially the molars. The reason why they’re so bad off is that I have severe acid reflux. I have had it my whole life. I even had an ulcer a few years back. That’s why I can’t eat any of that crap, and why I can’t help my teeth being somewhat decalcified. Until my doctor and I get the reflux under control, there’s nothing I can do to improve my teeth.”
(I sat back, opened wide, and let her resume cleaning. She was silent for a few minutes, before softly starting to catch me up on the doings of her own kids, who I hadn’t seen in years and was glad to hear about. The rest of the appointment went smoothly after that, and the dentist was informed of my reflux before walking into the room, so he didn’t repeat her mistake. I ended up needing all five of my wisdom teeth removed — apparently I had an extra one — due to extreme decalcification. They were honestly getting spongy by that point. But the visit ended well, and I still go back to the same folks, sans lectures now.)
Extra Stupid, Hospital, Language & Words, Missouri, USA | Healthy | August 26, 2018
(I am sitting in the waiting room, hoping my ankle isn’t broken, when I overhear this
Mom: *to dad, dragging her five-year-old girl behind her* “Yeah, the doctor said it was just idiot pathetic vomiting. We have to come in if she tries it again.”
(It took me a while to figure out this lady was trying to pronounce, “idiopathic,” meaning, “of unknown cause.” That poor kid!)
Australia, Extra Stupid, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive | Healthy | August 25, 2018
(I work at the main information and patient enquiries desk for a major hospital. I get asked the full range of questions, some often way out of my scope of knowledge, but I try my best to at least point people in the right direction! People often give me very few details of what they want and just assume I will read their mind. I cannot check patients in for appointments; I must direct them to the clinic they are seeing.)
Me: “Good morning! How can I help you?”
Visitor: “[Last Name].”
Me: “Is that an inpatient you’re looking for?”
Visitor: “I have an appointment. [Last Name].”
Me: “Okay, what type of specialist are you seeing?”
Visitor: “[Last Name].”
Me: “Okay, I don’t need your name, just what type of doctor you’re seeing. What’s it for? Your heart? Bones? Lungs?”
Visitor: “[Last Name].”
Visitor’s Friend: “1:30.”
Me: *to friend* “What type of specialist?”
Visitor’s Friend: “[Last Name].”
Me: *trying so very hard to remain calm* “What. Kind. Of. Doctor?”
Visitor’s Friend: “Oh! I’m not sure. Hang on; let me check the paperwork…”
Doctor/Physician, Extra Stupid, Hospital, Norway, Patients | Healthy | August 24, 2018
(I’m rather clumsy, and this time it lands me in the ER. The doctor that’s checking me out is actually my neighbor.)
Doctor: “All right, what did you do this time?”
Me: “Well, I woke up and wanted to finish reading my book from yesterday, but I wanted to make breakfast, as well, so I walked downstairs whilst reading, and I kind of fell…”
Doctor: *long pause* “At least you read, right?”
(I managed to break a bone in my arm, and needed a cast.)
Australia, Bizarre, Hospital, Time | Healthy | August 22, 2018
(I work on a switchboard for a major hospital. We take all external and internal calls then direct them to the appropriate department.)
Me: “Good morning, [Hospital].”
Caller: “Hi, can I speak with someone about rescheduling my appointment?”
Me: “I’m sorry, but you will need to speak to the outpatients department, and they do not open until nine am; you will have to call back a bit later!”
Caller: “Oh, what time is it now?”
Me: “It’s 8:15.”
Caller: “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise it was so early! I hope I didn’t wake you, did I?”
Me: “Um… No?”
(Yes, he was completely serious; he continued on the conversation as normal after that! I’ll never know if it was just an instinctive reaction for him to say that, or if he genuinely thinks we sleep when there are no calls?)
Crazy Requests, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Illinois, Nurses, Patients, USA | Healthy | August 20, 2018
(I am an NCT — a nursing care tech — basically one rung down from a nurse. We check vitals, help transport patients for surgeries or procedures, track their progress and double-check their treatment plans, help patients shower or get to the bathroom, and generally make sure that nurses and patients have what they need, and that none of the patients are showing signs of any impending medical problems or complications. We are legally not allowed to give medicine, administer treatments, contact patient family members for any reason, or give medical advice. All of this information is told to the patients when they arrive, and is in the information packet all the patients are given, along with a flow chart about who to call for what problem. Additionally, in my hospital, all NCTs wear green scrubs, all nurses wear blue, and all doctors wear white. This patient, who has been here for about a week and a half, calls me in.)
Patient: “My back feels just awful. Could you go get my next dose of painkillers a little early?”
Me: “I’m not allowed to give you any medications, I’m afraid. I can go get your nurse, though, or you can call her with this number on the board. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
Patient: “Well, can you adjust my IV at least?”
Me: “I can’t do that, either; I’ll have to grab your nurse.”
Patient: “What about my sister? Did you call her with the new care plan?”
Me: “That’s also the nurse; I can’t contact your family.”
Patient: “Well, what about my diagnosis? What do you think I should do?”
Me: “I’m not allowed to offer any medical advice, either. Let me call your nurse, okay? She’ll be able to help you with all of this.”
Connecticut, Crisis Housing, Emergency Services, Extra Stupid, Hartford, USA | Healthy | August 19, 2018
(I’m an EMT. My partner and I are called to a homeless shelter/halfway house for a “sick call.” This means a non-life-threatening issue. We arrive and unload the stretcher. There’s about ten stairs and a small elevator right inside the door. I start to open the door of the elevator when I’m greeted by staff.)
Staff: “You’re going to the second floor. Oh, that elevator doesn’t work.”
Me: “Okay. Do you have another one?”
Staff: “Sure, it’s up here around the corner.”
Me: “Great. How can I access it?”
Staff: “Come on up the stairs and go to the end of the hall.”
Me: “That’s not going to work. Do you have another access point? A ramp, maybe?”
Staff: “We have an elevator around the corner here.”
Me: “That’s great, but if this elevator doesn’t work, how am I going to get my stretcher to the second floor?”
Staff: *exasperated* “There’s an elevator right over here! Right around the corner.”
Me: “I understand that. But how would you like me to get my stretcher up these stairs to get to that elevator?”
Staff: *blank stare*
Me: *to my partner* “Let’s just leave it here, see the patient, and figure it out from there.”
(When we got to the other elevator it was so small our stretcher wouldn’t have fit, anyway, even if we folded the back.)
At The Checkout, Harassment, Health & Body, Kansas, Retail, Strangers, USA | Healthy | August 18, 2018
(I am working the register at my store. My coworkers are all busy elsewhere, and it is a slow part of the day, when an old man walks up and purchases a small item. Things are going normally until I hand him his change. It should be noted that I have a mild form of adult acne.)
Customer: “Do you know you have a red thing on your face?”
(He points toward a small flare up of acne on my cheek. I blink for a moment, because while part of me knows what he’s pointing at, no one has ever said anything directly to me about it before.)
Me: “What do you mean?”
Customer: “You have a red thing on your face. I know what that is. It’s caused by anxiety.”
(I have never had anxiety issues, and now that I have confirmed what he’s talking about, I speak with a deadpan tone.)
Me: “Sir, I have acne.”
(I’ve never really been self-conscious about my acne, but I don’t like the way he’s talking about it. He takes his receipt and starts heading for the door while still talking to me.)
Customer: “Yes, and that is caused by anxiety. I have seen this before.”
(My tone has gone cold, and in my head I’m wondering why my personal health is his business.)
Me: “Sir… my mother is a nurse.”
(What I’m hoping he’ll pick up on is the implication that, “if something were seriously wrong with my face, she would know,” but he doesn’t get the hint.)
Customer: “I worked fifty-five years in medical technology maintenance.”
Me: “So, you never actually practiced medicine, then.”
Customer: “I have seen this before. It’s anxiety.”
(He then starts rambling something I don’t quite follow, but he makes it sound like he’s had bugs grow out of his own acne in the past. Or seen them grow out of acne in other people. Or maybe even caused them to grow out of other people’s skin infections. The main thing I key in on is his use of the words “grow out of,” which does not give me mental images of bacteria. It genuinely sounds like he’s talking about live insects growing out of people’s faces, which is incredibly creepy.)
Me: “Are you a doctor?”
(I ask this bluntly, trying to convey with my tone and expression that if he is not a licensed medical professional, I do NOT want his opinion on my face, and he needs to stop talking.)
Customer: “I work with medical equipment. But I have seen this before. It’s anxiety. It is.”
(Thankfully, after that the customer just kind of nodded and walked out the door. To date, he’s the creepiest customer I’ve had to serve.)
At The Checkout, Harassment, Health & Body, Kansas, Retail, Strangers, USA | Healthy | August 18, 2018
(I am working the register at my store. My coworkers are all busy elsewhere, and it is a slow part of the day, when an old man walks up and purchases a small item. Things are going normally until I hand him his change. It should be noted that I have a mild form of adult acne.)
Customer: “Do you know you have a red thing on your face?”
(He points toward a small flare up of acne on my cheek. I blink for a moment, because while part of me knows what he’s pointing at, no one has ever said anything directly to me about it before.)
Me: “What do you mean?”
Customer: “You have a red thing on your face. I know what that is. It’s caused by anxiety.”
(I have never had anxiety issues, and now that I have confirmed what he’s talking about, I speak with a deadpan tone.)
Me: “Sir, I have acne.”
(I’ve never really been self-conscious about my acne, but I don’t like the way he’s talking about it. He takes his receipt and starts heading for the door while still talking to me.)
Customer: “Yes, and that is caused by anxiety. I have seen this before.”
(My tone has gone cold, and in my head I’m wondering why my personal health is his business.)
Me: “Sir… my mother is a nurse.”
(What I’m hoping he’ll pick up on is the implication that, “if something were seriously wrong with my face, she would know,” but he doesn’t get the hint.)
Customer: “I worked fifty-five years in medical technology maintenance.”
Me: “So, you never actually practiced medicine, then.”
Customer: “I have seen this before. It’s anxiety.”
(He then starts rambling something I don’t quite follow, but he makes it sound like he’s had bugs grow out of his own acne in the past. Or seen them grow out of acne in other people. Or maybe even caused them to grow out of other people’s skin infections. The main thing I key in on is his use of the words “grow out of,” which does not give me mental images of bacteria. It genuinely sounds like he’s talking about live insects growing out of people’s faces, which is incredibly creepy.)
Me: “Are you a doctor?”
(I ask this bluntly, trying to convey with my tone and expression that if he is not a licensed medical professional, I do NOT want his opinion on my face, and he needs to stop talking.)
Customer: “I work with medical equipment. But I have seen this before. It’s anxiety. It is.”
(Thankfully, after that the customer just kind of nodded and walked out the door. To date, he’s the creepiest customer I’ve had to serve.)
Extra Stupid, France, Medical Office, Reception | Healthy | August 17, 2018
(This takes place when I’m in college. I get a call around ten am from the secretary of a doctor’s office, saying the doctor will be late for the appointment. The secretary got the wrong number and I’m not the person she was trying to reach. As I have class all morning, I only see the missed call and the message at noon. I assume it’s too late to call back to say they have the wrong number, because the appointment was scheduled the morning, anyway, so the patient probably already went to the doctor’s office. I don’t think about it anymore, but the next day I get another call from the secretary. This time she calls while I’m on my break, so I answer.)
Secretary: “Hello, [Patient]. This is [Doctor’s Office]. I’m calling you about your file; I need some info.”
Me: “Oh, actually, you got the wrong number; I’m not [Patient].”
Secretary: “What do you mean it’s the wrong number ? It’s…” *she dictates my phone number* “…right?”
Bizarre, Medical Office, New York, Non-Dialogue, Oceanside, Phone, USA | Healthy | August 16, 2018
When I was a kid, my family had a separate phone line for our fax machine. One day, we received a fax containing a prescription for medication for my mom’s uncle who lived a few towns away.
We were quite bewildered, as we didn’t think mom’s uncle had our fax number, nor did he have any apparent reason for sending this particular document to us. We eventually found out that our fax number was only one digit off from that of a local pharmacy, and the fax had come from a doctor’s office. Apparently someone at the office was trying to send the prescription to the pharmacy but misdialed.
It was a complete coincidence that the prescription just happened to be for someone we knew.
Doctor/Physician, Florida, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | August 15, 2018
(My father was recently diagnosed with a genetic heart condition, and his doctors want all of his children to be checked for the condition. I make an appointment with my doctor so I can get a referral to a cardiologist.)
Doctor: “What are you here for today?”
Me: “My father was just diagnosed with [heart condition], and his doctors have ordered all of his kids to be tested for it. I just need a referral to a cardiologist.”
Doctor: “You’re way too young to be worrying about that. A heart condition wouldn’t affect you right now.”
Me: *initially speechless* “Well, I’d rather get the tests done so it isn’t a problem later.”
Doctor: “As I said, you’re too young. I’ll see you back in a few months for your annual.”
(The doctor left. Needless to say, that doctor did not see me back again. When the practice asked why I was attempting to switch doctors — something they usually don’t allow — I happily told them the whole story and requested that it be put on the doctor’s file as an official complaint. I eventually got the referral and did not have the genetic condition, but they did find a minor issue that just needed to be noted and checked every few years.)
Bad Behavior, Dentist, Patients, Pennsylvania, USA | Healthy | August 14, 2018
(My dad is a dentist, and his office is a suite attached to the house. As a child, I am home sick from school, and Dad is with a patient. The door to the office chimes, followed by a long bang. By the time his hygienist comes out to check, the waiting room is empty. Meanwhile, I wake up to a man standing at the foot of my bed. I yell in a panic, and he looks strangely at me, and then puts a hand to his cheek.)
Patient: “I know my appointment isn’t until tomorrow, but this is killing me. Can you fit me in today?”
(Sick and scared, I kept yelling until my dad came running in, still wearing his mask. The patient had walked into the waiting room and, finding it empty, had broken down the door between the office and the house. Then, he had wandered through the house until he found the ten-year-old asleep in bed, and tried to reschedule his appointment. My father was furious and refused to work on him. The guy was surprised.)
“The Adventures Of Harold, Benjy, And Carmen” Sounds Awesome
Boulder, Colorado, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Jerk, Patients, Therapist, USA | Healthy | August 13, 2018
(I’m in a short-term rehab center, recovering from surgery. A speech therapist comes in with a form in her hands.)
Therapist: “Good morning! I’ll just take a couple of minutes here to see how your speech and language skills are, all right?”
Me: “I suppose.”
(I teach special needs, and immediately recognize the form; it’s the mental acuity screener. BAH!)
Therapist: “Can you tell me where you are?”
(This goes on for awhile, and I’m getting irritated.)
Therapist: “Now, would you name these three animals?”
(She shows me sketch of a lion, an elephant, and a hippo.)
Me: “How about Harold, Benjy, and Carmen?”
Therapist: *silent*
Me: “Well, the task as phrased was to name the animals. If it were stated correctly, you would have asked me to identify the animals, and I would have told you they were a lion, elephant, and hippo.”
Therapist: *silent, but grinning*
Me: “And the number they told me to remember when I had this identical screening in the hospital was 74.”
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