I’m visiting my friend. I mention that I had pushed back donating blood until tomorrow so I could fit in the visit today.

Friend’s Son: “No, I don’t want you to give blood!”

Me: “What? Why not?”

Friend’s Son: “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Me: “It’s okay. It only hurts for a second; it doesn’t really bother me.”

Friend’s Son: “When I got my shot, it hurt really bad.”

I don’t have the heart to tell him they use a larger needle for drawing blood, so actually, it hurts more than a shot.

Me: “Yeah, I know, but you get used to it and it isn’t as hard after a while.”

Friend’s Son: “You mean things hurt less when you get older?”

Me: “Umm, something like that.”

The boy apparently later told his mom he wanted to wait to get any more shots until he was older, so it would hurt less.

I work at a fairly large, fairly well-known cancer treatment center. I am a scheduler, so I’m not clinical, but I do work in the clinic and often see patients after their appointments, so I wear scrubs. Each team’s scrubs here are color coordinated so staff and patients know what team you’re on, and it’s a pretty good system. But outside of the center, they just look like everyday scrubs. You can probably see where this is going.

I am grabbing some snacks for the office on lunch break at the grocery store when I get a tap on my shoulder. I turn to see a lady with a fairly full buggy grinning at me.

Lady: “Hey. Can you take a look at this spot on my son’s foot? It’s really been bugging him and it’s super swollen and I’m just worried about it.”

I am confused, of course, but she points at this huge ace bandage she has wrapped around her toddler’s foot. It does look big, but of course, it is out of my range of expertise.

Me: “I’m sorry. I’m not a nurse or clinical or anything. I’m a scheduler.”

She just continues to give me this condescending smile.

Lady: “But you’re wearing scrubs.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. I work in the clinic of a cancer center, but I’m a scheduler, not medical. You should take your son to a doctor or an urgent care if it’s that bad.”

My easy and concise explanation goes right over the lady’s head.

Lady: “But you’re wearing scrubs.”

Me: “Yes. But I’m not a nurse.”

I don’t know how else to reply because she just keeps staring at me. I repeat the thing about urgent care and go back to looking at chips. The lady is not happy; she blows up.

Lady: “Is this because of money? Can’t you do something nice for a single mom?! Aren’t you supposed to help people?! All you nurses and doctors care about is money! None of you give a d*** about the patient!”

Me: *Snapping* “Lady! I’m not a nurse!”

She continued her rant.

Lady: “Well, you shouldn’t wear scrubs, then! That’s fraud! That’s impersonating a medical worker! That’s a felony! I bet you just want the attention because of the health crisis! You need to—“

I just grabbed my chips and walked away. I swear as I did I could hear her stomp her foot like a child. I can see the confusion, but I have no idea what this lady’s logic was. Literally no medical professional is going to give a diagnosis in the grocery store unless it’s an emergency. I hope the kid is okay either way, though. He was very well-behaved for a toddler who was probably in a good bit of discomfort.

I have a medical condition that has had a flare-up resulting in me staying home. My mum has headed over to visit my grandmother who’s very unwell. As such, we’re both fairly emotionally drained.

I’m feeling okay enough to eat the evening meal once Mum is home, and we’re looking at TV options. We normally watch a TV programme where very talented people fix much loved objects, and it’s very emotional to watch. It’s just starting.

Mum: “I don’t know if I want to…” *Trails off*

Me: “Cry?”

Mum: “Yeah.”

Me: “I’ve cried enough today, I think”

She goes to the TV guide to see what else is on. The options are… well…

Mum groans.

Me: “Well, guess we’re crying today.”

Mum: “There’s [Programme that points out unhealthy food and the effects it has]?”

Me: “I am not up to being shamed whilst eating food.”

Mum: “Crying it is.”

We were in health class at school while they were explaining how you need so many cups of water every day.

Teacher: “Soda doesn’t count, though. It’s a diuretic, which means it makes you urinate more often. That means a can of soda will remove more water than it adds.

Friend: “Oh, no. I think I may be in the negatives!”

Thankfully for my soda-loving friend, while soda is a diuretic, it still tends to add more liquid than it removes. It’s not a good source of hydration, but it is better than nothing.

I was waiting for my colleague to show up and I was waiting on a bench near the store. One of the regulars was walking her dog and approached me. She thought it was a good idea to talk about weight and gave me several tips on how to lose some.

Customer: “You’d be much happier if you lost some weight!”

What did make me happier was my colleague showing up, ending the conversation.