Cheese Addiction Is Becoming A Problem

, , , , | Healthy | December 5, 2019

(I work at a non-profit rehab for teens as a counselor. During their lunch, a new resident is having a heated argument with other staff over her dietary restrictions.)

Teen: “I can’t eat this; it has cheese. I’m vegan.”

Staff: “We’re trying to accommodate. The cooks have been made aware and are working on fixing you something else.”

Teen: “You shouldn’t be eating this stuff. Do you know how badly dairy and meat harms your body? You guys are all disgusting.”

Me: *screaming internally* “You shouldn’t lecture anyone when you smoke meth!”

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She’s Not Being Very Hip

, , , , , | Healthy | December 2, 2019

My great aunt gets a call from a friend asking her if she wants to go grocery shopping at a popular bulk warehouse store and my aunt agrees. When her friend gets to the house, my aunt goes outside and slips on some ice in the driveway; she hits her hip hard and can no longer stand up. She refuses to call an ambulance, and two of her neighbors manage to get her into her friend’s car. 

My aunt’s friend asks if she wants to go to the doctor right away but my aunt responds, “No, you came to go to the store so we might as well do that first.” So, her friend goes grocery shopping while my aunt stays in the car with a broken hip. Afterward, the friend insists my aunt go to a doctor. Instead of going to the emergency room, my aunt insists on going to a faster care doctor’s office. 

They pull into the parking lot and my aunt’s friend explains the situation. A doctor comes out and tells my aunt they have no way to get her out of the car — she is somewhat of a larger lady — and that she really needs to go to the ER. My aunt complains. Finally, the doctor says, “Ma’am, you’ve broken your hip. This is something outside of our control. We can help you if you need something minor, but you are going to need surgery; you need to leave and go get the care you need.” 

She finally agrees to go to the ER and she ends up having quite the lengthy recovery process because she is just as difficult in her physical therapy appointments.

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When You Are Bugged To Go To The Doctor

, , , , , , | Healthy | November 27, 2019

When I’m in high school, I come down with a bad fever and my mother takes me to the doctor. I’m still seeing a pediatrician at this point. The building the office is in is undergoing construction.

Pretty soon I’m in the examination room, my mom sitting to the side. The doctor is a young woman, wearing a gauzy green sweater and some light gold jewelry. I notice a very shiny, pretty brooch shaped like a scarab pinned to her sweater.

She leans in with the tongue depressor, and as I watch in horror, the “brooch” sticks out a barbed leg and starts crawling up her shoulder! I scream and throw myself back. 

“Are you okay?” asks the doctor. She thinks I’m scared of the tongue depressor. 

There’s a huge bug on you!” I yell. 

This sets the doctor off. She shrieks, drops the tongue depressor, and starts frantically trying to brush the bug off her sweater. In the process, she breaks her necklace, sending bits of golden chain flying across the room. Part of it hits me and I think it’s the bug, so I scream again and the cycle begins anew. 

Eventually, the doctor calms down a little, but we’re still trying to find the bug. She turns around and I spot it on her shoulder and yell, “It’s still there!” This time she holds still and my mom gets it off her with a tissue and squishes it in the garbage can. 

Once everyone’s calmed down, Mom comments that she should have saved it, or at least not crushed it, since it was actually very pretty. She thought I was having a hallucination until she saw it herself! We figure it got in from all the construction downstairs. The rest of the appointment goes fine, though the doctor and I are a bit shaken up; my mom is pretty level-headed. 

When we check out, the nurse at the desk asks what happened. We tell her and she laughs and says, “We get a lot of screaming in this office, but usually it’s not from the doctors!”

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Right Bad Back At Ya

, , , , , | Healthy | November 23, 2019

(I am in the waiting room of a hospital waiting for a scan to check out my back injury. For the purposes of this story, let’s just say that my name is John Smith. The nurse calls me in for my scan.)

Nurse: “All right, just jump up onto the table.”

Me: “Umm… sorry, I can’t do that.”

Nurse: “We can’t do the scan if you don’t get on the table.”

Me: “But… I can barely move. How do you expect me to jump onto a table?”

Nurse: “Sure, you can.”

Me: “I don’t think you understand. I am physically unable to get up onto the table due to a back injury.”

Nurse: “You don’t have a back injury.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I’m pretty sure I would know why I’m at the hospital.”

Nurse: “Your name is John Smith, right?”

Me: “Yes.”

Nurse: “And your date of birth is [date]?”

Me: “Yes, it is.”

(A patient in the waiting room speaks up.)

Patient: “Sorry to interrupt, but I think you might have us confused.”

Nurse: “Your name is John Smith?”

Patient: “Yep.”

Nurse: “And I suppose your date of birth is also [date].”

Patient: “Yes.”

Nurse: “And you’re here for a scan?”

Patient: “Yes, I am.”

Nurse: “Well, this is an interesting coincidence.”

(She looks down at her computer.)

Nurse: “Ah, I see the problem. There are two different people named John Smith with the same birthday, who just happened to both have appointments for a scan within the same hour. I was looking for John M. Smith.”

Patient: “That’s me!”

(The nurse apologized and I got my scan not long after. It was a confusing few minutes, but at least I got a good story out of it!)

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Operating Under Confusion

, , , , , | Healthy | November 20, 2019

(I work for a pediatric dental practice. We are currently at our surgical center where kids get put to sleep so we can do all of the work necessary. There’s loads of paperwork, normal doctor check-ups, and numerous confirmations that patients’ parents need to go through before we see them. We have a two-year-old girl that needs work on every single tooth; she’s been on our waitlist for surgery for two months. We are about to bring her back to the OR.)

Nurse: “Okay, sweetheart, time to say bye to Mommy.”

Mom: *looking so confused* “Wait, why is she saying bye?”

Nurse: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you aren’t allowed into the OR for sterilization purposes.”

Mom: “But how is she supposed to fall asleep without me reading her a story?”

Nurse: “The anesthesiologist–”

Mom: “The what?!”

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