He’ll Be In The Afterlife After The Birth

, , , , | Healthy | October 31, 2009

(It is Halloween. The hospital staff have put up decorations, but they’re minimal. I’m trying to wheel a patient who is in labor to the room she was assigned, along with her husband.)

Patient’s Husband: “We should put her in the room with the witch hanging over the door.”

Me: “I’m sorry. That room’s actually a different size. I’m supposed to take you to room 79.”

Patient’s Husband: “But that room has a ghost. She wants a witch.”

Me: “The only room we have with that decoration is half the size of this one, and doesn’t have all the same equipment in it. This is the room you paid for.”

Patient’s Husband: “It has to be a witch. She’s been real nasty all week.”

(As she hears her husband say this, the wife is looking less and less pleased. She is a week overdue, and has been in for false labor pains the past two weeks.)

Me: “That’s interesting, but there aren’t any decorations inside the room anyway. What is inside this room is a much wider space for the doctor and nurses to provide her with better care.”

Patient’s Husband: “She wants a witch, so put her in the room with the witch.”

(Finally, the patient has had enough and speaks up.)

Patient: “Shut up. I want to get this kid out in whatever room the people who know what they’re doing think is best, you dumb troll!”

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Totally Plastered

, , , , | Healthy Right | October 30, 2009

Me: “All right, your cast is on nice and secure. It should heal within four to six weeks.”

Patient: “Really? Only four to six minutes?”

Me: “No, four to six weeks.”

Patient: “Okay, four to six minutes.”

Me: “Sir, it’s impossible for it to heal within four to six minutes. It takes about four to six weeks.”

Patient: “Oh, all right.”

(I turn around to fill out his form. When I turn back around, he has taken off his cast.)

Me: “Sir, why did you take off your cast?!”

Patient: “Well, you said it heals within four to six minutes, but you said it was too short. I waited seven minutes… but it still hurts.”

Me: “Sir, your arm is still broken. Four to six weeks is around a month and a half.”

Patient: “Well, why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?! A month and a half is five weeks! Why did you say four to six minutes?”

Me: “I never said…” *I pause and compose myself* “…Okay, nevermind. Let’s put on a new cast.”

Patient: “Oooh! Can I have a pink one?”


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Loosely Based On A True Story

, | Healthy Right | October 28, 2009

Patient: “I think there’s something wrong with my tooth.”

Me: “Can you describe the problem?”

Patient: “Well, I think it’s loose.”

(The patient suddenly spits his tooth onto the counter in front of me.)

Me: “Yes… Yes, I think you’re right.”

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They Call Me Doctor DIY

, , , | Healthy Right | October 22, 2009

(We sell dental surgical products and sometimes have to give instructions on their usage. A doctor calls in from the operating room and has me on speakerphone while they’re operating on a patient, who may or may not be under anesthesia.)

Doctor: “The screw is not going in. Which way do I turn it?”

Me: “Clockwise.”

Doctor: “Clockwise from above or below?”

Me: “If you are looking at the head of the screw, then clockwise… to the right.”

Doctor: “What do you mean to the right? Move the wrench to the right?”

Me: “As the screw turns, and you are looking at the head, the top part will go to the right.”

Doctor: “Okay, I think I got it.”

Me: “Good. Righty tighty, lefty loosey.”

Doctor: “What was that?”

Me: “Uh, righty tighty, lefty loosey? That’s one way to remember. You go to the right to tighten, and the left to loosen.”

Doctor: “Oh, I see. Righty tighty, lefty loosey!” *noise of wrench turning* “Righty tighty, lefty loosey. It’s working!”

Me: “Great. All finished?”

(The doctor suddenly speaks up much louder than before. It’s clear they’re not talking to me.)

Doctor: “You’re all done then!”

Patient: *in the distance* “Uh, thank you, doctor.”

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If The Zits Don’t Kill You, The Angst Will

, , , | Healthy Right | October 6, 2009

Me: Hello this is [Doctor’s Office]. How may I help you?”

Caller: “Help! I’ve sprouted a nipple on my forehead!”

(From the caller’s voice, I could tell that it was a female teenager.)

Me: “Excuse me? If this is a prank, I can report you–”

Caller: “No, this is not a prank! This morning I got up, and there was this huge, red lump on my forehead… and now I’ve poked it and this milk is coming out!”

Me: “Hon, that’s a pimple, not a nipple.”

Caller: “Oh…” *gasps* “Is it deadly?”

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