CONTENT WARNING: Self-Harm, Surgery Complications, Blood

When I was twenty, I got my tonsils removed. The initial surgery went well, but a few hours later, when I woke up from my post-anaesthesia nap, I opened my mouth and blood started pouring out. It turned out that I had immediate post-op bleeding.

I was admitted to the Emergency Room and was scheduled to have corrective surgery the next day. The doctor for the second surgery got into a freaking car crash on the way to the hospital. My surgery was postponed for three days, and I was moved out of the ER and into a regular hospital bed.

I was in pain and starving, and every time I opened my mouth, it was like the elevator scene from “The Shining”. The person in the bed next to me had a host of entitled visitors (I think they were family, but I’m not sure) who were constantly talking at max volume. I decided to try and politely ask them to keep the volume down a little, and boy, that was a mistake.

Me: “Hey, guys, would you mind keeping the volume down a little? I’m trying to sleep, but it feels like you’re talking very loudly, and the curtain doesn’t block out the sound that well, so I can hear everything.”

Patient: “Ignore her. I haven’t seen any doctors or specialists come and check on her since she’s been here, only nurses. Obviously, she’s not that sick. She’s just being overdramatic and is annoyed that I actually have visitors.”

Me: “Actually, the reason is—”

One of the visitors noticed my self-harm scars.

Visitor: “Okay, I think I get it. They didn’t have any space at the funny farm for you, so they stuck you with actual sick people?”

The other visitors and the patient started laughing at this obviously hilarious observation.

At that point, I knew I needed to gargle some more hydrogen peroxide before the “bloodgates” in my mouth released and caused a tsunami of blood.

Me: “You’re absolutely right! My bad. I was just— Wait— Sorry— I just—”

At that point, I simply opened my mouth mid-sentence, and blood came pouring out of my mouth and onto my hospital gown, right in front of them. They freaked out. It was horror movie-level s***.

I was in a lot of pain, and I was internally screaming, but my pettiness got the best of me; I gave them a blood-covered, toothy smile and went back to my bed to call a nurse for painkillers and gargle some more hydrogen peroxide.

I am working at the patient information desk at a hospital when I get the following call. The person on the other end sounds like an older gentleman. 

Caller: “I was briefly hospitalized yesterday. I fell and hit my head on a rock, and police advised that I go in.”

Me: “Okay. And how can I help you?”

The caller repeats himself.

Me: “I understand. How can I help you?”

Caller: “Well, I want to find out what happened.”

Me: “I’m not too sure.”

Caller: *Now getting upset* “Are you not understanding?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, I am not.”

The caller then more or less repeats himself again, but then he mentions that he isn’t sure if he was at [My Hospital] or the other major hospital in the city. Ah, something to go on, finally!

Unfortunately, though, I cannot find any record of his name in my system for yesterday. I inform him of this. 

Caller: “Well, what am I supposed to do, then?!”

Me: “You could try calling the police? Do you know if they brought you in?”

Caller: “I don’t know!”

Me: “You could try the other hospital, then?”

Caller: “You’re no help!” *Click*

I truly felt sorry for him that he had some memory loss. Had he not gotten so angry or not hung up on me, I would have directed him to the health organization’s health information line, where patients can speak with a nurse about their medical information. They may have had some information, but only if the gentleman indeed did get to a hospital. But I was honestly expecting him to show up in our system and felt a bit thrown off by how angry he got. Hopefully, he can get some answers!

I am working on the switchboard at one of the two large hospitals in the city. One thing we do is page various doctors. I get a call from a medical professional in a different city within the province, looking to speak with a pediatric doctor from [specialty #1]. After answering the phone with my hospital’s name and getting the request, I look up the various pediatric specialties in our system and find that we only have a few different types. I list them out, and this is where the trouble begins.

Me: “We have [specialty #2], [specialty #3], and [specialty #4].”

Caller: “You don’t have [specialty #1]?”

Me: “No.”

I repeat the specialties.

Caller: “Oh, well, I always call here for [specialty #1].”

Me: “I’m not too sure. That sounds more like something [Other Major Hospital] would have. We really just have [specialty #2], [specialty #3], and [specialty #4] here.”

Caller: “I’m looking for [specialty #1].”

Me: “We only have [specialty #2], [specialty #3], and [specialty #4].”

Caller: “Okay, but I’ve always called this number for [specialty #1]!”

Me: “I understand, but…”

I repeat myself.

Caller: “Did this change recently? Can you check with your coworkers?”

I only have two coworkers in the room with me, and both are currently busy. 

We go back and forth a few times more, and I mention [Other Major Hospital] again at some point. 

Caller: “But is this [My Hospital]?” 

Me: “Yes.”

Caller: “Oh, I needed [Other Major Hospital]!”

Me: *Head-desk*

At least the caller had the decency to apologize!

I work in IT for a hospital. In the early days of portable video projectors, one of the doctors had checked one out for use in a conference room at a convention center/hotel. We got a furious call when he was setting it up.

Doctor: “There’s something wrong with the projector! Everything is BLUE!”

Me: “That can happen if the VGA cable is loose or damaged. Can you check to make sure both ends have all their pins and that the cable is securely connected?”

Doctor: “I’ve checked the cable! There’s color on the screen, but everything is tinted blue! Even the white areas are blue!”

Me: *With dawning comprehension* “Are you using a screen or a wall?”

Doctor: “A wall! A screen is too much hassle.”

Me: “What color is the wall?”

Doctor: “Blue! Just tell me what I need to change to make things show up the right color!”

Me: “…Physics?”

My wife’s friend is a nurse. We’ll call her Susie. Susie has a very positive and upbeat personality with a wild sense of style. She wears very bright clothes and likes to wear wigs. No, she does not have cancer, but she’s always rocking an awesome wig that matches her outfit. My wife even sends pics to me aside from the social media posts of their night. She wants to get wigs and lets me know by way of these pics.

One night at Bunco, Susie told the gals about one of her patients who clearly does not like her. She always has a grumpy face when looking at her and always has a problem. The patient is getting continuous care and has seen Susie regularly over the past few weeks, so this attitude has been grating on her over time. But this time, she crossed a line. Upon her latest visit, she told Susie:

Patient: “Your unprofessional wigs are making me sick! Stop wearing all these different crazy wigs!”

Right then and there, Susie took off her wig, making sure it clearly showed one of her reasons for wearing wigs in the first place. She had long clumps of hair that gnarled out in all directions, showing bald spots, as well. Susie has alopecia, and she told the gals that she lets it grow out to help fasten the wigs at times. It was quite the sight to behold

Susie: “Is this professional enough for you?”

Susie wished she could have a picture of the moment, but the way she described the lady’s snarled lip at the sight of her and in response to the action was classic. She gave me permission to share her story provided I changed names and didn’t get specific. Deal.

The patient never said anything mean to her again and even made an attempt at smiling the last time Susie saw her.