Not A Very Sedate Sedation  

, , , , , | Working | December 3, 2019

(I take a day off of work to have a routine dental procedure that requires light sedation. My manager gives me the day off, but forgets to take me off of the schedule. I let her know, and she says that she will take care of it. Fast forward to the day of the procedure. Everything goes fine, and I am home. I am still really out of it from the sedation, though, when the phone rings.)

Manager #2: “[My Name], why aren’t you here? You’re on the schedule.”

Me: “Wah? I spoke to Sunny and he said that I was okay.”

Manager #2: “What? Sunny is the bird!”

Me: “Sunny said I could take the day off to see the Tooth Fairy, and when I come back on Monday, we will count all the fish and give the baths.”

Manager #2: “Allll right, then. See you on Monday? I think?”

(When I got back on Monday it turned out that [Manager #2] texted my manager who filled her in on what was going on, and assured her that, no, I was not on drugs.)

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No Clever Title Required, Because Chocolate DOES Make Everything Better  

, , , , , , | Hopeless | December 2, 2019

(It’s my time of the month with a heavy flow and I have a very nasty sinus and ear infection, so there are a ton of medications in my system. I still get myself to work at the fabric store as I don’t feel that bad. A half-hour into my shift, I suddenly become very weak and my legs become very shaky. Still, I put on a brave face to not worry my coworkers and customers and just lean on the counter and carts for balance. I’m catching my breath when I notice a customer coming up to the counter.)

Me: *assume an acting face* “Hi. How can I help you?”

Customer: *not convinced* “Are you all right? You weren’t looking that good a moment ago, and you’re pale.”

Me: “I’ll be all right; it will pass.”

Customer: “Are you sure? Do you need anything, like water or food?”

Me: “Maybe, but I’ll hold off until my break. How much do you need?”

Customer: “Four yards, and I’ll be right back.”

(I begin to measure out her material while she runs up to the front. She returns a few minutes later with a chocolate bar in hand.)

Customer: “There you go.”

Me: *shocked* “Oh, wow… You didn’t have to.”

Customer: “Chocolate makes everything better. Your blood sugar might be low so this should help.”

(She was right. After a few nibbles on the chocolate and a quick break, my strength returned and I was able to finish my shift with no problems. I saw the same customer a few days later and she was very happy to see that I was doing better and that the chocolate had helped.)

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There Is Mushroom For Improvement, Part 5  

, , , , , , | Working | December 2, 2019

While on a family vacation, we stop to see my cousin graduate from college and have dinner with the rest of our family before spending the night in Tallahassee, and then continuing to drive north. The restaurant we stop at is an Italian one, and has high praise from the local community, so we are pretty excited to go.

We’re seated and we order, and my mom specifies no mushrooms on her steak. She’s anaphylactic and her food even touching mushrooms could kill her. 

Within twenty minutes the food is here, and as per my mom’s request, there are extra mushrooms. The steak is covered in them, and she is having a hard time breathing with it on the table. We call the waiter over and explain once more, and he apologizes and brings it back to the kitchen.

Ten minutes later, her steak is back, with the mushrooms shoddily scraped off. Some are still on the plate, and it’s clear that they don’t understand the meaning of “deathly allergic.”

It’s sent back again, and finally, they give her a new steak once everyone else is done and we’ve already paid. They try charging us for three steaks despite what seemed to be a failed murder attempt, but my mom won’t pay.

They do nothing about the incident until my cousin leaves a scathing review on Google and they are forced to retrain all of their staff on allergy management. I’m assuming someone got fired that night.

Related:
There Is Mushroom For Improvement, Part 4
There Is Mushroom For Improvement, Part 3
There Is Mushroom For Improvement, Part 2

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It Takes A Surgeon To Get You Through Border Control These Days 

, , , , , , | Working | December 2, 2019

(I am going to a concert with my parents, and my mother is recovering from surgery on a broken hand during which she had numerous pins placed to stabilize the bones. Her hand is also encased in a cast. We go through the metal detectors, and naturally, my mother’s hand sets off the detector. The security guard pulls out the wand to spot-check my mom, and asks her if she has any metal that she hasn’t removed.)

Mother: “Yes, I have six pins in my hand to set the break.”

Security Guard: “You need to remove them.”

Mother: “They’re implanted into my hand and covered with a solid cast. I can’t remove them.”

Security Guard: “You can’t go in with metal. You need to remove the metal and go through the scanner again.”

Mother: “Are you a surgeon?”

Security Guard: “No.”

Mother: “These are surgical pins that have been placed into my bones by a surgeon. They’re not coming out.”

Security Guard: “You still need to remove the metal.”

Mother: *ready to wallop the guard with the cast* “Unless you are willing to pay any medical bills from pulling these pins, they are not coming out.”

(Finally, a manager came over, realized the extent of my mom’s injury, told the guard he was an idiot, and let us through.)

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She’s Not Being Very Hip

, , , , , | Healthy | December 2, 2019

My great aunt gets a call from a friend asking her if she wants to go grocery shopping at a popular bulk warehouse store and my aunt agrees. When her friend gets to the house, my aunt goes outside and slips on some ice in the driveway; she hits her hip hard and can no longer stand up. She refuses to call an ambulance, and two of her neighbors manage to get her into her friend’s car. 

My aunt’s friend asks if she wants to go to the doctor right away but my aunt responds, “No, you came to go to the store so we might as well do that first.” So, her friend goes grocery shopping while my aunt stays in the car with a broken hip. Afterward, the friend insists my aunt go to a doctor. Instead of going to the emergency room, my aunt insists on going to a faster care doctor’s office. 

They pull into the parking lot and my aunt’s friend explains the situation. A doctor comes out and tells my aunt they have no way to get her out of the car — she is somewhat of a larger lady — and that she really needs to go to the ER. My aunt complains. Finally, the doctor says, “Ma’am, you’ve broken your hip. This is something outside of our control. We can help you if you need something minor, but you are going to need surgery; you need to leave and go get the care you need.” 

She finally agrees to go to the ER and she ends up having quite the lengthy recovery process because she is just as difficult in her physical therapy appointments.

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