(I am about eight years old when my family and I relocate to China for a year. Despite my Chinese heritage, I was born and raised elsewhere, so English is my first language, whereas I tend to struggle with Chinese. In that year, I fall sick enough to warrant a week-long stay at the nearest hospital. My mother and my grandmother accompany me in the daytime to take care of me as well as talk to the nurses and doctors on my behalf. When I’m alone, however, my sole form of entertainment is the TV in the room, which I leave on the only English-speaking channel they have. None of us think much about it until my mom comes in one morning and happens upon two nurses conversing outside my room.)

Nurse #1: “That little girl, she doesn’t talk much when I ask her questions, but she is so focused when it comes to [English channel] on TV. In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s all she’s been watching since she got here!”

Nurse #2: “Wow! She’s that dedicated to learning English and keeping up with school, even though she’s this sick? What a studious girl!”

(And that’s how I inadvertently impressed a couple of nurses by lazing around in bed all day watching the telly.)

In memory of our little experiment with a different style of titles, we offer up a Thanksgiving spread of stories with absolutely normal titles.  Feast upon some of our best-loved tales of the foods of Thanksgiving, including some all-time favorites!

Talking Turkey – Sometimes it’s the simple things.

Going Red About The Green – What’s the matter, pumpkin pie?

A Barrel Of Laughs – By any chance, did the writer fall in… and were they wearing green? It would explain the previous story…

Not Talking Turkey This Thanksgiving – Fare is fair!

Pranksgiving – That’s not how a turducken works.

Not Talking Enough Turkey – He likes his turkey as dry as a martini, but hold the booze and give it to the poor server!

A Cocktail Of Lies And Cookies – He likes his cookies like… Wait. Never mind.

Wasn’t Born In The Pumpkin Patch – Guess he won’t get a visit from The Great Pumpkin, either.

With Great Bacon Comes Great Responsibility – Some love it. Some hate it. Some say everything is better with bacon.

A Monster Mash Potato – We think it sounds tasty…

More Thanks-taking Than Thanksgiving – This story of turkey-grabbing mayhem is a favorite for good reason!

We give thanks for the things we have, the friends and family we love, and the end of those goofy titles. Now, let’s eat!

Tell us your tales of Thanksgiving foods. Does your feast include something unique or different? Feel free to share the recipe, too!

(I have just had to rush my daughter to the hospital with a heart-related issue. I call my husband and send a text to friends that I am supposed to be going out with that evening. One friend isn’t always with it.)

Me: “Sorry, I am stuck in hospital with [Daughter]; she has a heartbeat of 204 bpm and they are trying to stabilise it.”

Friend: “So, what time will you be here?”

Me: “I can’t come.”

Friend: “Why not? You still have two hours before we leave.”

Me: “Because [Daughter] is in hospital and I won’t leave her.”

Friend: “Oh, is 204 bpm bad?”

Me: “204 beats a minute? Yes, it’s bad.”

Friend: “Oh, I didn’t know you meant per minute.”

(She did wish us well, and our daughter’s heart rate was brought down, though she needs lifelong medication to keep it there.)

This story occurs over a four-year span. It begins the year when I was in the first grade, and my sister was in the fourth grade, in the summer.

My sister and I were walking our dogs outside with our mom. My sister happened to get tugged by the dog she was walking and “sprained” her ankle in a ditch. She hurt it bad enough that she and Mom went to the hospital, but not until after she took a shower; our mom was very insistent on her showering first. The doctor diagnosed it as a sprained ankle.

For the next four years, until she was in eighth grade, she had intense pain with her ankle and foot in general. They decided to take her to a hospital again, with a different doctor.

It turns out, for the past four years, her ankle had been broken the entire time, and was left untreated.

The next few years were spent with her receiving surgery for the ankle, growing bones in her foot and having them removed, and physical therapy.

She’s now a junior in college, and doesn’t have as much trouble with her foot anymore, except when she exercises excessively.

I’m still annoyed with the doctor who didn’t find it out the first time around and let my sister suffer for four years.

(I am a medical assistant in a family medicine clinic. We often have difficulty with refills for patients, but this was a memorable one. Note: the patient is elderly so I was trying to be really patient and understanding!)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Clinic]. How may I help you?”

Patient: “I need to find out which medications Dr. [Name] refilled at my last appointment.”

Me: “It looks she filled two: [Medication #1] was sent to your mail order pharmacy, and [Medication #2] was sent to your local pharmacy.”

Patient: “I didn’t need [Medication #1] refilled!”

Me: “I am sorry about that. Which medications are you needing refilled today?”

Patient: “All of them.”

(I start to go through her list.)

Me: “How about [Medication #3]?”

Patient: “I don’t need that one.”

Me: “How about [Medication #4]?”

Patient: “I don’t need that one, either.”

(This repeats several times.)

Patient: “I just need the ones I take regularly.”

Me: “Well, you only have two medications that you take daily, and [Medication #1] was filled last month. Are you needing [Medication #5]? I can refill that for you, though our records show you should have about ten months of refills at your mail order pharmacy.”

Patient: “I don’t know what that is. Just fill all of them for me!”

Me: “I don’t know which ones you are needing; it looks like you have refills on all of your regular medications.”

Patient: “Just ask Dr. [Name]. She’ll know what I need.”

Me: “I have your list in front of me, she won’t know more about what you need refilled than I do.”

Patient: “I’m trying to bake a pie. Just call me when you figure it out.”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry but I don’t know how to help you as I’m not sure what you need.”

Patient: “Fine, I’ll call you back later. Try to figure it out for me.”

(This was one time, that while frustrating, I actually felt really bad that I couldn’t help her! She wasn’t particularly rude, just confused.)