You Said It, Doc!

, , , | Healthy | August 31, 2019

(I have had some severe abdominal pain recently. My primary doc is unable to figure out what is going on so I am referred to a specialist. This is my first interaction with the specialist:)

Doctor: “So, who did you see before coming to me?”

Me: “My general practitioner.”

Doctor: “Your GP?” *he scoffs* “What a waste of time. Tell me, what sort of useless advice did he give you?”

Me: He told me to come and see you.”

Doctor: *nervously shifts in his chair and coughs*

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Needs Treatment Not Treats

, , , , , | Healthy | August 30, 2019

(After a long day of dealing with people who are seemingly too stupid to read price tags, I am ready to go home. My manager has come over to tell me to turn off my light and go home. As I am leaving my register, a woman I’ve seen many times comes up.)

Woman: “Oh, sweetheart, I know you’re leaving but could you please help me? I’ll be quick. It’s just one question.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, I–”

Manager: “[My Name] is one of our most knowledgeable employees. She’ll be happy to help you.” *leaves*

Me: *sigh* “How can I help you?”

Woman: “Well, you see, my dog…” 

(She tells me her twelve-year-old dog’s life story, ending in his inability to poop for four days.) 

Woman: “So, I was wondering which of these treats would be better for him?”

Me: “Take him to the vet.”

Woman: “What?”

Me: “Take him to the vet.”

Woman: “But that’s expensive!”

Me: “Medical bills are expensive. He needs professional help.”

Woman: “You’re supposed to be the professional help! This is ridiculous! Without customers, you wouldn’t have a paycheck. Do you know that? People like me keep you employed!”

Me: “I make $9 an hour. How professional do you think my help is going to be?”

Woman: “Well, that’s not my problem.”

Me: “You refusing to spend money on your dog is not my problem, either.”

Woman: “You’re quite rude!”

Me: “Your other option is to stick your finger up your dog’s a** and dig out the s*** yourself.”

(I feel a little guilty about the last part, but I am over my time and ready to go home, so I walk away and clock out. When I leave the break room, my manager is standing at the front with the woman, who is obviously complaining about me.)

Woman: “…and you should fire her!”

Manager: “I can’t.”

Woman: “What?! Why not?”

Manager: “Today was her last day.”

(The woman sputtered a few nonsensical words before leaving. I can only hope she took my advice and took her dog to the vet. I understand that vet bills are expensive but that’s part of the deal when you’re in charge of another life.)

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They’re Not Out Of The Woods Yet

, , , , , | Healthy | August 29, 2019

(We’re in the waiting room during our adult son’s brain surgery. A family sits near us and I hear:)

Family: “He’s in Jesus’s hands now.”

(I lean over to my son’s girlfriend and say:)

Me: “They sent a carpenter in to do a surgeon’s job.”

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He Gin-uinely Tried It

, , , , , , | Healthy | August 27, 2019

(I am a student nurse, about a year from graduation. A friend of mine calls.)

Me: “Hello?”

Friend: “So, you’re a nurse, right?”

Me: “I already don’t like where this is going, and I’m a student nurse. Not–”

Friend: “Okay, well, I have some gravel deep in my hand. Can I just pour some gin on it and be fine?”

(Gin also happens to be his favorite alcohol.)

Me: “What?! Hang on; how did you get gravel in your hand and how deep is it?”

Friend: “I was on my bike and some a**hole opened their car door right in front of me and I went down pretty hard. And here, let me just take a picture.”

(He sends me a picture of his hand, showing that the gravel is dug in pretty deep and firmly stuck in so rinsing it with anything won’t get it out.)

Me: “You need to get tweezers and pull out the gravel, rinse it with water, put something like Neosporin on it, and cover it with a bandaid.”

Friend: “Well, I don’t have tweezers or any of that, really.”

Me: “You live in NYC. There’s definitely some kind of drug store or corner store you can get this stuff in.”

Friend: “I don’t want to spend money on things I already have at home, so can I just pour gin on it?”

Me: *sighs* “I cannot condone this at all but rinsing it with water is probably the best option.”

Friend: “So, gin is okay?”

Me: “If you’re intent on using alcohol, use straight vodka, instead, BUT I CANNOT CONDO–”

Friend: “Okay, thanks, bye!” *hangs up*

(He texts me a picture of his hand. He has used a prong of his watch to dig out the gravel, causing himself to bleed more and making the entire area fairly red. He texts me an hour or so later.)

Friend: “The barkeeper wouldn’t just give me some vodka, so I had to buy it and go into the bathroom to rinse it. Thanks again!”

Me: “This still was not your best option and I cannot condone this behavior.”

(He never replied.)

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You Get Some Anxiety, You Get Some Anxiety, Everybody Gets Some Anxiety!

, , , | Healthy | August 26, 2019

(I go to a therapist for anxiety. For complicated reasons, I’m afraid of asking for an OCD and social anxiety diagnosis, so my partner comes with me.)

Therapist: “Okay, you are aware that I am not a couples therapist?”

Me: *nods*

Therapist: “And that [Partner] is not covered under your insurance?”

Partner: “That’s not why I’m here.”

Therapist: “Okay, well, let me just explain what we’ve been doing here.”

(She says her job description, and then talks about my anxiety. To my horror, she starts spilling every secret I ever told her, including unfair, heat-of-the-moment venting about my partner, without explaining the part after, where I acknowledged my unfairness. I start having a silent panic attack. Eventually, she stops talking.)

Partner: *without any hint of annoyance or anything negative* “I’m just here to help [My Name] ask for a referral to a psychiatrist.”

Therapist: “Sure! I can do that right away for you!”

(We leave. I am too terrified to speak. When we enter the car, my partner sighs angrily.)

Partner: “B****!”

Me: *jumps*

Partner: “Sorry, not you. Don’t worry; I tuned her out once I realized where she was going.” *pauses* “When we get your psychiatrist, do we have to go back to her?”

Me: *shakes my head no*

Partner: “Good. I can’t believe she did that. Do you want a hug?”

(We did hug and talk about the anxiety. My partner also has anxiety, and I’ve been trying to convince her to see a therapist. This… did not help.)

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