CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

(I am a 22-year-old female and have always had problems with my feet, which are completely flat and also wide. I’ve been having intense pain in my left foot for a few years, and not one doctor or specialist I’ve gone to has had an explanation. Finally, I am told by a foot surgeon that I have a deformity in both feet that has caused arthritis and is the reason I am unable to walk properly. I am advised to have two metal screws implanted in my left foot to alleviate the pain and hopefully correct the structure of my foot. I go in for surgery and this happens when I stay overnight after the operation. “Nurse” is my day nurse and “Night Nurse” is the nurse assigned to give me the pain medication during the night.)

Nurse: “I’m going to take your vitals and let you get some rest. Your night nurse will come in to give you the pain medication soon. Can you swallow pills?”

(I tell her I can and expect to have no problems. Boy, am I wrong. Over the course of the night, I am pretty loopy from the anesthesia and all I want to do is sleep. A night nurse comes in to take my vitals again sometime in the night and says someone else will give me pain medication later. This repeats for some time with her and one other nurse until the morning, where I’ve recovered enough to realize I am in intense pain and nobody has given me the pain medication I need. Early the next morning, I am exhausted and crying from the pain when my parents come to see me.)

Mom: “What happened?! Why are you crying?!”

Me: *crying* “I’ve been up almost all night and nobody gave me pain medication!”

Mom & Dad: “WHAT?!”

(They track down a nurse and repeat what I’ve said.)

Nurse: “Um, a night nurse would have given you medication. You’re supposed to take it every three hours.”

Me: “Well, no one gave me anything. They woke me up to take my vitals several times and that was it!”

Nurse: “I’m going to look into this. Let me talk to the other nurses.”

(She leaves for a bit, then comes back with the night nurse who I recognize from last night. They both don’t look happy.)

Night Nurse: “We gave you medication last night. You just don’t remember it.”

Me: “You and some other nurse woke me up to take my vitals and said someone else will give me the medication. If I took the medication, I wouldn’t be in so much pain!”

Nurse: *hands me a pill bottle* “Just to make sure, these are what you’re supposed to take. Have you had these at all?”

Me: “No! I haven’t taken any pills!”

Night Nurse: “Well, did you tell someone that you needed it?”

(My parents and the other nurse just stare at her in disbelief.)

Mom: “Of course she needs it! You’re in charge of making sure she gets the medication on time!”

Night Nurse: *snotty* “She’s a big girl. She has to tell us if she needs it or not!”

(My nurse rushes the night nurse out before the situation escalates. My parents are furious and my nurse is also frustrated. I’m angry, too, of course, but more exhausted, and I just want to go home to recover in peace.)

Nurse: “I am so sorry. I had no idea this happened. There is no excuse for that. You are absolutely right: the night staff is responsible to get you that medication and they should have been keeping an eye on you.”

Me: “Can I just go home? I really don’t want to be here anymore…”

Nurse: “Unfortunately, now that I know you haven’t had any medication, I have to keep you here to catch up on the doses. I can’t send you home until I get this in your system and make sure you’re okay.”

(I was more upset by this, but I knew she had to do her job and didn’t say anything else. Over the next few hours, I was finally given the pain medication and I basically slept all day until she told me I could go home in the evening. Thanks to the night nurse’s negligence, I had to keep taking the medication for an extra few days until the pain got under control. We filed an official complaint against the nurse, but nothing has happened so far.)

(I am standing at my cash register.)

Me: “All right, that will be [price]. Debit or credit today?”

Customer: “Debit.”

Me: “All right.” *taps my debit button* “That should be ready for you.”

Customer: “Oh, I need a bottle opener for this.”

Me: “We do have those.”

(The customer grabs it and puts it in with his paid-for product. I take the item back from him.)

Me: “It costs [price].”

(He pays for his product and walks off, muttering just within hearing.)

Customer: “Jeez, can’t get anything for free anymore…”

I’ve never enjoyed going to church. I could barely keep myself awake during the services because I found the whole thing boring. I still see myself as Christian; I just don’t like going to mass. Every Sunday, my little brother and I would try our best to sleep in — or pretend to sleep in — until our parents just gave up and left without us. I celebrated when I finally got my Confirmation and they couldn’t force me to go anymore. I still went for Midnight Mass because it was a Christmas tradition, but never at any other point.

One Saturday, though, my dad pulled me aside and asked if I could go to church with mom the next day. He was doing the reading and he didn’t want to leave her alone. I didn’t really get it, but I figured that since that Sunday was Mother’s Day, I’d throw her a bone. Sure, I’d already gotten her a present, but he seemed pretty insistent.

So I went. Mom was pretty surprised, but she wasn’t complaining. I was doing my best to try and not look like I was on the verge of passing out, as usual, when about halfway through the service, I finally got a good look at my mom.

She looked like she was trying — and failing — not to cry.

That was when it hit me; this was her first Mother’s Day after her mother, my grandmama, had passed away from lung cancer. We weren’t that close, but I couldn’t even imagine what Mom had been going through all day. Immediately feeling horrible for silently treating this like a burden, I snuck in a hug and made sure she knew how much I loved her and appreciated everything she did for me. She hugged me back and finally let herself straight-up cry.

I couldn’t even begin to imagine my life without her, even now as I’m living on my own. She doesn’t have to imagine life without her mother; she’s living it.

This story is part of our Mother’s Day 2021 roundup!

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(I work in a copy shop. A customer is in the self-serve area while I am at the computer printing an online order.)

Customer: “Excuse me!”

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “I have this package of ink here, and it’s useless! I barely printed anything and that always happens to me! The last three cartridges I bought emptied out so fast!”

Me: “What kinds of things were you printing?”

Customer: “Court stuff.”

Me: “Okay, were the pages filled?”

Customer: “Yeah!”

Me: “Well, standard ink cartridges don’t actually have that much ink in them, and the page estimates on the boxes are only based on 10% page coverage, so that’s not a lot.”

Customer: “Well, I always run out! You sell bad ink cartridges! And now I have to use the self-serve to do all this stuff because I have too much printing to do on my little printer! And the last time I was here, someone stole the copier from me while I was sorting everything out and he stole my confidential papers! I wanted to make him go through his bag but I didn’t want to cause a scene! It’s ridiculous, this setup you have here! Anyone can just come and steal your stuff!”

Me: “What would you like me to do?”

Customer: “I want you to sell good ink!”

(I have a customer at cash, so I don’t respond to her and instead help the other customer, and I go about my day. Later…)

Customer: “Do you have some paper clips?”

(I grab one from the copy centre and hand it to her.)

Customer: “No, I need a bunch of them!”

Me: “Then you can buy a package from the shelf, if you like.”

Customer: “You’ll have to go get them for me; I can’t leave my stuff here or someone will steal it.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I’m the only one working up here so I can’t leave.”

(The customer huffs and goes back to work on her things. Later…)

Customer: “How are you supposed to get a receipt printed from these things?! I always say I want a receipt and it never prints one!”

Me: “Okay, I can print it for you behind the counter.”

Customer: “I never get my receipt! This is ridiculous! And now people are looking at my stuff!”

Me: “Do you have the card you used at the copier? I can print you a receipt.”

Customer: “Yeah, it’s right here!” *waves it in the air and then shoves it in her purse* “And now people are coming in using the copiers next to me and I have to watch all my stuff! Also, I need to pay for these paper clips.”

(I walk over to the bag of paperclips she has on the self-serve counter, but it’s missing the top, which had the UPC.)

Me: “Do you have the top?”

Customer: “No, I cut it off.”

Me: “You didn’t keep it around? Because I need that to scan it.”

Customer: “No, you’ll have to go get me a new one!”

(There is someone else behind the counter at this point so I just run to get a new package to scan so I can be done dealing with her.)

Me: “Do you have the card you used so I can print your receipt?”

Customer: “I’m so sick of your store! I come in to do my prints and I keep getting interrupted!”

Me: “We interrupt you?”

Customer: *done paying by this point, and still hasn’t given me her card to print her receipt from the self-serve copier* “Other people using self-serve do! They come in and look at my things and they’re confidential! And then I have to hide them and organize them and make sure people don’t steal them! And your store sells bad ink! ACCEPT IT!”

(And then she stormed out and left. My coworkers and I kept telling each other to accept things for the rest of the day, like, “I’m going on lunch. ACCEPT IT!” and, “The phone’s ringing. ACCEPT IT!”)

Boss: “Okay. I know this sucks, but we can’t sell the couch in the display window because they sent it without legs, but we’re completely full and there’s literally nowhere else to put it. There’s no price on it, but if anyone gives you trouble you can call [Assistant Manager] at the other location.”

(Of course, as soon as he leaves…)

Customer: “So, how much is the couch in the window?”

Me: “I’m so sorry, that couch isn’t for sale right now; it’s missing parts.”

(The usual back and forth: “Sell it to me!” “No, I can’t.”)

Me: “If you’d like, I can call a manager to confirm what I’m telling you.”

Customer: *smugly, like she thinks I’m just being lazy and the manager is going to tell her something different* “Fine.”

(I call the manager and explain the situation.)

Manager: “Let me talk to her.”

(I hand the customer the phone, and the manager tells her exactly what I just did. The customer throws the phone at me and storms off. I pick up the phone.)

Manager: “I heard a crash; is everything okay?”

Me: “Yep.”

Manager: “Did she throw the phone at you?!”

Me: “Yep!”

(This happened when I was in high school, and the best part was I recognized the customer as a teacher at my school. You definitely want someone who gets aggressive about a couch teaching!)