(I’m sitting at the front desk of an assisted living facility, having just accepted a delivery of medication for a resident. One of my coworkers is standing at my desk messing with her own paperwork. I call another coworker on the phone to come get the delivery.)

Me: “Hey, [Coworker], I have drugs.”

Coworker: “Sweet! I love drugs! I’ll be down in a minute to get them. Yay, drugs!”

Me: “Yay, drugs!”

(Our other coworker stopped doing her paperwork to stare at me and I cracked up. The coworker I called and I have worked together for almost five years, so we’re on pretty friendly terms. The other coworker only started a few months ago. It’s okay; she’ll catch up.)

(For some reason, my mother-in-law is dead set against me breastfeeding my week-old daughter. We are going to see her 90-year-old mother who is in a nursing home, and she keeps on at me about it all the way there.)

Mother-In-Law: “Mum will tell you the same thing.”

(The new great-grandmother is so happy to hold her new great-granddaughter, but my daughter starts fussing and crying while she’s holding her.)

Grandmother: “Ooh, she’s hungry… Quick, get the boobies out.” 

(I nursed her before handing her back. I got stony silence all the way home.)

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(A group of residents with varying stages of dementia is sitting around a table having coffee near my desk in the front lobby. One of them asks a question of the others…)

Resident #1: “What happened to my hand?” 

(She has a bruise over her wrist and the back of her hand.)

Resident #2: “You fell out of your bed, remember? You landed on it.”

Resident #1: “Oh! I must have been having a good time in bed!”

(Both women cracked up laughing while the two men with them looked shocked. I managed to hold it together so they didn’t know I was listening in.)

(I am helping an old lady getting ready for bed one evening at the nursing home. A part of that includes assisting her with brushing her teeth. Some old people have dentures, and I can’t remember whether this lady has or not.)

Me: “Do you have your own teeth?”

Resident: “Yes, I do.”

Me: “Okay, then, here’s your toothbrush.”

(The lady then pops out her dentures.)

Me: “I thought you had your own teeth?”

Resident: “I do. I bought and paid for them myself.”

(I am sitting at my desk, coloring the picture that’s on the next day’s schedule that we will post, so the residents have something cheerful to look at. We can’t print in color so I always do this. A visitor, who is a hospice nurse, comes in and see what I’m doing. I’m a cis female and the nurse is male. I happen to be coloring a picture of an ice cream cone in rainbow colors.)

Visitor: “Why are you doing that?”

Me: “Coloring? I like to post a colored version of the schedule so the residents have–”

Visitor: “No. Why are you using those colors? It’s…” *whispers* “…gay.”

Me: “Yes, rainbow colors are generally used for Pride. June is Pride month, you know. Personally, I happen to be bi.” *cocks head and looks at him, just mentally willing him to say something*

Visitor: *eyes go wide* “You’re…YOU’RE GOING TO HELL!” *runs toward the door with his arm out to push it open, but alas, it is locked and he crashes into it*

Me: “Oh, sorry, let me get that for you.” *sickly sweet smile*

Visitor: *incoherent screaming as he runs outside*

(I have no patience for this kind of bulls***. And since this lovely gentleman was wearing scrubs with his company’s name and his name, I was able to tell them exactly what their employee did. They sent someone else over to cover his patients.)