(I am a student in a Certified Nursing Assistant (CNA) program doing rotations in a nursing home shadowing a CNA working there. This patient is not part of our assigned rooms but is screaming for help. I ignore it at first, as I’m literally surrounded by medical professionals and figure her CNA or nurse will be in soon. Instead it carries on.)

Me: “Shouldn’t we check in on her?”

CNA: “She’s not ours, and she’s always like this. She just wants attention.”

Me: “Okay.”

(Ten minutes later, she is still screaming for help. Nobody is paying attention, and my CNA goes to do something without me. So since I have a 15-minute break without anyone to shadow, I decide to check on the woman. If she just wants attention, no harm done, I can talk a few minutes.)

Me: “Hi, I’m a student. Can I help?”

Patient: “My stomach.”

Me: *picks up chart* “How does your stomach feel?” *I look at the page detailing all she has ate and drank and any output, or waste, that day, thinking it’s an upset stomach*

Patient: “It’s exploding.”

Me: “That’s awful.”

(Then I notice she’s on a catheter, but no urine output has been recorded on her otherwise detailed chart. I look at her cath bag, and there is no urine in it. For those who don’t know much about caths there is always something. The body is constantly producing urine, and with a cath it drains straight off. This seems dangerous to me.)

Me: “I’m going to get you some help.”

(To the nurse at the station.)

Me: “The patient who has been screaming, I just checked in with her.”

Nurse: “She wants attention. Ignore it.”

(I find my teacher.)

Me: “This patient isn’t mine, but she’s been screaming. I keep getting told she’s attention seeking, but she has a cath and no output.”

Teacher: “I’ll check her.”

(I go about my day, and right before the students meet with the teacher for end of the day, I check in with the patient and she starts crying and thanking me profusely, saying nobody else listens, and I helped, and now she is ok. I note there is urine output in the bag. I go on to meet my class, and my teacher starts our reporting. As her final note:)

Teacher: “Oh, and [My Name] saved a woman’s life today!”

Me: “I did?”

Teacher: “Her catheter was misplaced. She had no urine output. You noticed while everyone else ignored her. When I placed her catheter correctly, the bag overflowed. Her bladder was close to bursting, which could have been serious or even killed her. Let this be a lesson, class: don’t ignore a patient just because they aren’t yours or want attention.”

(I am having a bad day and decide to get some ice cream to help cheer me up. My roommate goes with me to a restaurant near us. They have a brownie sundae on the menu that I’ve been meaning to try.)

Waitress: “What can I get you?”

Roommate: “I’ll have the cheese fries.”

Me: “And I’d like the brownie sundae, please.”

Waitress: “Sure thing!”

(She leaves and comes back a few minutes later.)

Waitress: “So, um, you wanted ice cream on your sundae, right?”

Me: “Yes?”

Waitress: “My boss just told me it doesn’t come with ice cream, but you can add it for a dollar.”

Me: “What does it come with?”

Waitress: “Just, like, chocolate sauce and whipped cream. I can push for us to give it to you, and argue that it’s misrepresented on the menu.”

Me: “No… I guess I’ll just have it without.”

Waitress: “Okay. Your food should be right up.”

(She brings our food and sets down a slab of cold brownie with the saddest, deflated dollop of whipped cream on it.)

Waitress: “We’re, um, not really known for our desserts.”

(The cheese fries were still great, as usual, and of course, we tipped her, but I won’t be ordering dessert from them any time soon!)

(I work as a receptionist for a manufacturing company, so I handle all incoming calls.)

Me: “Good morning! [Company], how can I help you?”

Caller: “Hi! Is this [Company]?”

Me: “Yes, it is.”

Caller: “So, this is [Company]?”

Me: “Yep. This is [Company].”

Caller: “Oh. Just making sure I was calling [Company].”

Me: “That’s us, all day, everyday.”

(This actually happens a lot throughout the day, believe it or not.)

(I’m a cashier at a store which is located in a large strip mall. I am in the front of the store speaking with the security guard, when a woman walks in, furious.)

Woman: “There are kids skateboarding over there! You need to do something about it!”

Security: “Are they bothering anyone?”

Woman: “No, but they shouldn’t be doing that!”

Security: “I’m sorry, ma’am. Would you rather them be breaking into people’s cars?”

(The woman stopped and looked cluelessly at my coworker, then stormed off.)

(I’m a senior and in the top audition-only choir at my school. It’s near Christmas, and I have come down with a nasty case of the flu. My doctor has ordered me to stay home for at least a week. My mom drops by the school with a doctor’s note, as I’m so sick I can’t drive. She runs into the office while I stay in the car. She comes back out with a frown on her face.)

Mom: “[Choir Director] wants to see you.”

(I’ve got a fever of 103, so I’m very out of it.)

Me: “Huh?”

Mom: “He wants to see you. He left word with the office that he doesn’t want a note; he wants to see you, personally. Something about missing two performances. He wants proof you’re really sick.”

Me: “But I’m sick. And I’m in my PJ’s.”

Mom: “I know, honey. I’ll walk with you.”

(I slowly shuffle to the choir room. I open the door, and am greeted by the shocked faces of my classmates. The director drops his sheet music and books it over to me.)

Director: “You’re sick. You’re actually really sick. What are you doing here?”

Mom: “You told the office you wanted to see her. Here she is.”

Director: “No, no. I didn’t—”

Mom: “Yes, you did. You told the front office that you wanted to see her, because you wanted to make sure she was really sick.”

Director: “Okay, I did say that. But so many students lie about being sick, and I just wanted to make sure that she was actually sick. I believe you. You ladies can go home.”

Mom: “We have a doctor’s note. You always tell them to bring one in if they can’t sing.”

Director: “Ah… no. That’s not necessary—”

(Normally, I’m very quiet and well-behaved, but I’ve lost all patience.)

Me: “I had to drag myself out of the car to come in here and present myself to you. YOU ARE TAKING THIS DOCTOR’S NOTE! Have I ever missed a performance in three years of singing for you?! NO! Why would I lie about missing one now?”

(He takes the note. My mom gently guides me toward the door.)

Director: “I… ah… really do hope you feel better.”

Me: *under my breath* “I hope you get all my flu germs.”

(One of my friends, who was sitting near the door, snorted. I went home. The director didn’t talk directly to me for a month.)