Numb From The Pain

, , , , , | Healthy | September 25, 2018

(I am in high school, with braces on my upper and lower teeth. My orthodontist decides that the overcrowding on my lower teeth is proving a big enough problem to warrant the removal of two perfectly healthy molars. I can’t say I am impressed, but I don’t have a choice and I am assured it won’t hurt, so I am not too worried. Sitting in the chair at the dentist, I am mostly nervous of the needles I’ll receive for anaesthetic. I receive a needle on each side and am given a moment for it to set in.)

Dentist: “How’s that for you?”

Me: “I can feel that.”

Dentist: “Yes, you’ll feel pressure.”

(The dentist pokes a pointy tool into my gum.)

Me: “Ow, no, I mean it feels like it always would.”

(The dentist looks sceptical, but gives me a second dose of anaesthetic and another moment for it to set in. My mum sits next to me. She’s been quiet all this time. The dentist pops out of the room. I lean over and tell her that everything feels normal; nothing is numb. I ask her, “Please don’t let her do this.” She begins to say something; I can’t remember what. The dentist comes back in.)

Dentist: “Nonsense. She’s lying. You can’t feel anything.”

(I protest, but the dentist basically forces her tools into my mouth and my mum kind of holds me down. The dentist starts cutting into my gum. I scream and wail.)

Dentist: “Oh, stop; it’s just pressure.”

(She continued the procedure, and I kept wailing and crying and gripping my mum’s hand. Afterwards, Mum’s hand was red raw, and she was flustered. She legitimately thought I was just scared, like most kids and teens. I remember shaking and feeling too woozy to say anything further to the dentist. I don’t know whether I’d have been physically able to, either. What I do remember is that the procedure had happened at eight am and that before lunch time my entire face went numb, so I had to spend about five hours with my face over a bucket, the drool pouring out in a constant stream. I vaguely remember my mum and dad both on the phone with the dentist in the other room with some muffled shouting of some kind.)


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It’s Not A Resident Problem

, , , , , | Healthy | September 24, 2018

(Our nursing home has a group of volunteers that often help the nurses during meals and do most of the activities with the residents. This sometimes causes visitors to try to get the volunteers to do things they aren’t allowed to, or things even nurses aren’t allowed to do, such as giving medication at inappropriate times or giving extra medication when residents go on holidays with the family. I exit the elevator and hear an argument.)

Visitor: “I don’t see what the problem is. I want to take my mother to [Local Restaurant], but I need her medication. Now go get them.”

Volunteer: “Ma’am, I’d love to, but I can’t. I don’t know which medication your mother needs nor the exact dosage; you’ll have to speak to a nurse about that.”

Visitor: “You are a nurse. You work here. Stop being lazy and go get my mother’s pills!”

Volunteer: *notices me and points at me* “I’m not a nurse, but [My Name] is. If you ask her, she can check which medication your mother needs and give it to you.”

Visitor: “If you’re not a nurse then why are you in my mother’s room?”

Volunteer: “I was picking her up to go to the dining room; neither of us were aware you were going to come and pick her up. Since [My Name] is here, she can help you with the medication. I’ll go and take other residents to the dining room.”

(At this point the resident opens her door.)

Visitor: “You stop right there. I demand you do your job and get me those pills, and then go get your manager or whatever so I can complain about you!”

(Before anyone can say or do a thing, the mother speaks up:)

Resident: “G**d*** it, can you not embarrass me for once? First off, I don’t need medication during lunch! Second of all, we agreed to go out for lunch tomorrow. And third of all, if you don’t apologize to [Volunteer] right now, I’ll go out for lunch with her instead of you!”

(The visitor just mumbles and checks her phone, then runs away after yelling, “I’m sorry.”)

Resident: *to the volunteer* “You’re free tomorrow?”

Volunteer: “I am.”

Resident: “Good. If you want, pick me up at 11:00 and we’ll go to [Local Restaurant].”

A Snappy Story

, , , , , | Healthy | September 24, 2018

(It is England in the 70s. My dad has been playing football — soccer — and ruptured his Achilles tendon. He had it repaired and spent six months in a cast from his foot to his knee. He is at the hospital, with the cast freshly removed, for an appointment with a physiotherapist.)

Physiotherapist: “I am going to put this skipping rope on the ground, and I want you to jump over it.”

Dad: “No.”

Physiotherapist: “Go on; you’ll be fine.”

Dad: “No way. You’ve got to be kidding.”

Physiotherapist: “I know what I am doing.”

(They argue a bit. But Dad gives in. SNAP! The Achilles tendon snaps all the way up the back of his leg to his knee. He then spends nine months with a plaster from his foot to his hip. Fast forward to the 2000s. Dad decides to get some soil delivered so he can work on a garden bed out the front while Mum takes it easy. He books the delivery of soil and realises my car is in the way of where it should be delivered. No problem, he thinks; he’ll just move the car. It doesn’t start, so he decides to roll it. It doesn’t have to go far, so he takes his foot off the brake, uses his other leg to get it started and SNAP. The car is fine. But there goes his Achilles tendon. It’s on the other foot, but he knows the feeling well. Despite being in a lot of pain, he is already in the car. The foot he’s damaged is his left, and he only needs the right to drive to the hospital, so he does so. Eventually he’s seen by the doctor.)

Doctor: “So, what seems to be the problem?”

Dad: “I’ve snapped my Achilles tendon.”

Doctor: *laughs* “It’ll just be sprained.”

Dad: “I know what you’re thinking, but in this case, you’re going to have to trust me.”

(Dad gets a scan; it is snapped. The doctor turns to him, bewildered.)

Doctor: “How did you know? And how did you drive here?”

Dad: “Well, let me tell you a story…”

Even Jesus Isn’t Coming Out Of This One

, , , , | Healthy | September 23, 2018

(I go to the ER one night for suspected appendicitis. The nurse orders a blood draw and urine sample.)

Nurse: “We’ll run your blood to see if anything is unusual, run a pregnancy test on your urine, and then go from there.”

Me: “No need. There’s no chance that I’m pregnant.”

Nurse: “We have to make sure.”

Me: “I’m sure. If you look at my intake, you’ll see that I had a complete hysterectomy six years ago. I also haven’t had sex with a penis in four years. If by some dark magic I’m pregnant, I’ve got bigger things to worry about than my appendix.”

(The nurse didn’t care, and the doctor ordered a pregnancy test, anyway. Lo and behold, it was negative.)

Piss-Poor Grammar

, , | Healthy | September 20, 2018

(Sometimes, providers fill in a prescription without proofreading, leading to gems like this:)

Prescription: “One capsule once a day to make it easier to urinate by mouth.”

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