A Period Of Ignorance

, , , , | Right | October 24, 2019

(I am a volunteer at an animal shelter and one of my duties is showing animals to potential adopters. A couple with a young adult son comes in to pick a dog and they have several questions.)

Mother: “I have a question about the female dogs.”

Me: “Okay.”

Mother: “My son said that after they get spayed, they don’t… bleed anymore?”

Me: “Yes, that’s correct.”

Mother: “So, they get their periods, but they don’t bleed during them?”

Me: *mentally facepalming that a woman knows so little about female anatomy* “No, it means the dog has no bleeding, no heat cycle, or period, if you will. Nothing.”

Mother: “Oh, okay!”

(The family chooses a dog and we take her outside so they can get to know her. As we are walking out…)

Father: “Is it true that the dogs don’t get periods after they are fixed?”

(I almost feel bad submitting this story because they seemed like very nice people and I hope they were able to adopt a dog from the shelter, but I am still confused that two adults needed their son to teach them that an animal with no reproductive organs also has no reproductive functions. And what is having a period without bleeding? That sounds like having a headache but with no pain.)

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Calendar (Red) Alert!

, , , , , , | Working | October 23, 2019

(I am eight weeks pregnant when I get very sick as a result of my pregnancy. I have to spend a week in hospital. By UK law, women are protected against discrimination if they have to have time off for anything relating to their pregnancy. Because of this, I have to tell my bosses REALLY early about the pregnancy to ensure I am covered legally as my boss is a bit weird. We have a back-to-work meeting, and everyone else congratulates me on my pregnancy.)

Me: “Thanks, guys!”

Boss: “[My Name]! I just worked it out. You got pregnant eight weeks ago, right? Wasn’t that your boyfriend’s birthday? We all know what gift he got!” *nudge nudge wink wink*

(Everyone just sat in silence awkwardly until we moved on with the meeting.)

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Index(Finger) That One Under Misc

, , , , , | Right | October 22, 2019

(I’m working technical support for a small ISP.)

Me: “Technical support, how I may I help you?”

Customer: “Hello, I can’t bend my index finger.”

(It’s not unusual for customers to warn us ahead of time if they have a condition that we should take into account when we ask for troubleshooting steps, so I wait for the customer to start explaining his issue.)

Customer: “It’s really painful, and I had a lot of trouble sleeping last night because of it. I don’t know what I should do.”

Me: “Let me make sure I understand. Your issue is that you can’t bend your index finger, and that the pain is preventing you from sleeping?”

(My supervisor is sitting next to me and starts listening in on the call at this point.)

Customer: “Yes…”

Me: “Sir, are you aware that you called technical support for an Internet company?”

Customer: “Yes… I didn’t know who else to call.”

Me: “Sir, this is a medical issue; you should speak to a doctor. You should try calling a clinic or a hospital.”

Customer: *sounding resigned* “Oh… okay.”

(I wish the customer good luck with his problem and end the call.)

Supervisor: “Well, that was a new one.”

(From that point on, we started joking that our service was so good that customers call us for medical advice.)

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The Mother Of All Anxieties, Part 2

, , , , , | Related | October 19, 2019

(My mom has anxiety issues when it comes to things going according to plan, and she loses perspective on the feelings of others and becomes incredibly inflexible. I am 21. I moved out over three years ago, but I rejoin my family for a Christmas trip to visit family in Oregon. I am experiencing increasing mobility issues that I later find out to be a minor form of Muscular Dystrophy, so I have started walking with a cane sometimes and I am not able to run very well by this time. After our visit and celebration are over, we go to the airport to catch our flight back to California. It is late Christmas day, so the airport is not that crowded, but my mom is rushing us with great urgency through the airport despite the fact that we have several hours until our flight.)

Mom: “Come on, come on. Walk faster. We have to hurry up!”

Me: “Seriously? Our flight doesn’t leave until 5:50. Let’s stop and have lunch; all the good restaurants are outside the security gate.”

Mom: “No, no, no! We have to go now! It takes hours to get through the x-ray line.”

Me: “No, it doesn’t! With Dad’s metal plate and my cane, we get priority screening; we’ll be done in five minutes.”

(This is very true, and it never takes me very long to get through airport lines because of my disability. We had an easy time leaving California despite the huge crowds of holiday travelers. It’s also true that every time my parents fly out together, they don’t have to wait in the line because of the plate in my dad’s leg.)

Mom: *sees me lagging behind the three of them and gets more anxious* “Walk faster! Why are you slowing down?”

Me: “I’m walking with a cane and you’re surprised that I’m not fast?”

(What isn’t a surprise is how fast we get through the security screening. That does not seem to put her at ease, though. She continues urging us to move at a near-running pace with me hobbling as fast as I can while trying not to trip and fall. We don’t get a chance to rest until we reach our gate.)

Me: *looks at watch* “Whew! We made it with only four hours and thirty-seven minutes to spare. We would never have made it without you keeping us organized, Mom. Woo-hoo!”

The Mother Of All Anxieties

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That Part Of The Body NEVER Made Men Wise

, , , | Related | October 18, 2019

(My son has just gotten his wisdom teeth pulled, and he’s still loopy from the drugs. He starts crying.)

Son: “Dad, they cut my penis off.”

Me: “No, they didn’t, son.”

Son: “Are you sure? 

Me: “I promise, it’s still there. I wouldn’t let them cut your penis off.” 

My Brother: “They tried, but he put up a fight.”

Me: *nudges him* “It’s still there.”

Son: *reaches down his pants* “THANK GOD! I STILL HAVE IT! DAD’S A HERO!”

(He doesn’t remember any of this, but my brother loves teasing him about it.)

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