I go to the dentist to get my wisdom teeth out. I have had two shots already and the laughing gas on, no big problem. 

He starts trying to pull one tooth out that grew in crooked and I tell him that it is hurting. He gives me another shot, which should deaden it right then. He tells me not to be such a baby. Then, instead of being gentle and rocking it back and forth to loosen it before pulling it, he grabs a pair of pliers and snatches the tooth straight out of the gum!

He starts doing that with my other one on the same side. I bite the fire out of him. He has the nerve to tell my mom that I “need to be more prepared for a dental visit.” Not when one almost snatches your gums out of your mouth!  

I go straight from that dentist to one that treated me when I was a child. He is super nice, and he helps straighten out what the other one did to me. He takes one look in my mouth and says, “When was the last time you went to a dentist?” I reply, “I just came from one.”

(At my pharmacy, we commonly take orders by phone so that a customer’s medications can be ready to collect when they arrive. This phone order, however, is a little different.)

Me: “Good afternoon. This is [Pharmacy]. [My Name] speaking. How can I help?”

Customer: “Yes, I’d like to order some medications, please.”

Me: “Sure. What do you need?”

Customer: “I can’t remember what they’re called, sorry.”

Me: “That’s okay. We can figure it out. Do you remember what they’re for?”

Customer: “No, sorry. But they come in a box…”

(I’m standing behind a woman in line at the checkout who has put her groceries on the belt and has picked up her tiny baby out of the seat, as the baby started fussing. The customer in front of her is a sweet, older man who is having trouble getting his card to work. The woman is swaying side to side, something I don’t think much of because I did the same to calm down my kids when they were small. The older man turns to apologise for the wait, and gets a funny look on his face.)

Older Guy: “Are you okay, ma’am?”

(The woman spins around to face me and I see her face is slightly purple and her eyes are completely unfocused and darting around. Before I can react to try to catch her, she shoves the baby in my direction. I drop my items and catch the baby just in time, and the old man tries to catch the woman as she drops and starts twitching. They both end up on the floor, though he does break her fall. The cashier calls for help and there’s a flurry of activity, with managers calling for an ambulance and helping the woman. The old man scrambles back to his feet, and he and I step aside — me still holding the baby — while the ambulance officers show up and diagnose her with a seizure and start loading her into an ambulance. They take the baby with them — she has regained consciousness at this point and screams for her baby, thinking she had dropped them when she fell. In all the activity, the older man stays at the end of the checkout, waiting to finish paying for his groceries and leave. I look down and see he is holding his arm strangely.)

Me: “Sir, are you okay?”

Older Guy: “Ah, landed on my arm a bit funny.”

(Upon closer inspection, his arm is clearly broken quite badly near his wrist.)

Cashier: “Oh, no! Why didn’t you tell the ambulance guys? They would have taken you, too!”

Older Guy: “Oh, no, they were busy with the young lass. I’ve had my time; youngins are the future! I’ll get it looked at later.”

(We did eventually convince him to let me drive him to the hospital, with a promise of dropping his groceries off at home to his wife. She was beside herself and let me drive her back to her husband’s car so they wouldn’t have to worry about it later. Given the amount of stories on here about old people being cranky and mean, I was touched to find one who was willing to sit quietly through immense pain just so someone else would receive medical attention.)

(I’m 38 and pregnant for the first time. My OB has a bit of a specialty in older pregnancies, so I’m not surprised to see a woman looking older than me in the waiting room.)

Me: “This is my first. We weren’t really planning anything; you know, whatever happens, happens.”

Woman: “Pregnancy six, baby number nine. Christ, what I would give for a girl this time.”

Me: “Nine? All the rest are boys? Wow.”

Woman: “Yep. In my defense, pregnancies three and four were multiples, and pregnancy five was surprise; the vasectomy didn’t take.”

Me: *afraid to ask now* “And this one?”

Woman: “My husband and I put a hit out on the urologist. The boys are pretty evenly split between this kid being the messiah and their dad being Wolverine.”

Me: “Was it a shock for them?”

Woman: “When we Skyped our oldest, he laughed so hard he fell off the chair and concussed himself. We had to explain to his gunny why he was giggling while bleeding profusely from the head.” *she sighs* “I’m too old for this crap.”

(She was called back then. Lady, I wish you all the luck.)

I have to give a stool sample. I don’t have to go while I’m at the clinic, so I go home and bring it back later. Literally the only opaque bag I can find in the house is a gift bag… so I put the container in that.

I feel bad, but watching the nurse’s expression turn from delight to horror as she realizes I have not brought her a present is… pretty funny.