Not The Kind Of “Fall Into My Arms” Story We’re Used To

, , , , , | Healthy | June 26, 2018

(I’m standing behind a woman in line at the checkout who has put her groceries on the belt and has picked up her tiny baby out of the seat, as the baby started fussing. The customer in front of her is a sweet, older man who is having trouble getting his card to work. The woman is swaying side to side, something I don’t think much of because I did the same to calm down my kids when they were small. The older man turns to apologise for the wait, and gets a funny look on his face.)

Older Guy: “Are you okay, ma’am?”

(The woman spins around to face me and I see her face is slightly purple and her eyes are completely unfocused and darting around. Before I can react to try to catch her, she shoves the baby in my direction. I drop my items and catch the baby just in time, and the old man tries to catch the woman as she drops and starts twitching. They both end up on the floor, though he does break her fall. The cashier calls for help and there’s a flurry of activity, with managers calling for an ambulance and helping the woman. The old man scrambles back to his feet, and he and I step aside — me still holding the baby — while the ambulance officers show up and diagnose her with a seizure and start loading her into an ambulance. They take the baby with them — she has regained consciousness at this point and screams for her baby, thinking she had dropped them when she fell. In all the activity, the older man stays at the end of the checkout, waiting to finish paying for his groceries and leave. I look down and see he is holding his arm strangely.)

Me: “Sir, are you okay?”

Older Guy: “Ah, landed on my arm a bit funny.”

(Upon closer inspection, his arm is clearly broken quite badly near his wrist.)

Cashier: “Oh, no! Why didn’t you tell the ambulance guys? They would have taken you, too!”

Older Guy: “Oh, no, they were busy with the young lass. I’ve had my time; youngins are the future! I’ll get it looked at later.”

(We did eventually convince him to let me drive him to the hospital, with a promise of dropping his groceries off at home to his wife. She was beside herself and let me drive her back to her husband’s car so they wouldn’t have to worry about it later. Given the amount of stories on here about old people being cranky and mean, I was touched to find one who was willing to sit quietly through immense pain just so someone else would receive medical attention.)

That’s A Wheely Inconsiderate Thing To Do

, , , , | Right | June 25, 2018

In our local store, they have around six or seven wheelchair trolleys. These are trolleys that are designed exclusively for wheelchairs. They clip onto the front of wheelchairs. They are not for any other use — for example, invisible disabilities — as they need the counterweight of the wheelchair to be stable. They are small and nowhere near as good as normal trolleys, but for wheelchair users like me, they are the only way I can shop. There are also only a few of these, in contrast to several hundred standard trolleys in various sizes.

The last few times I went to the shop, I noticed they weren’t in their normal place, so I popped to customer service to ask if they had been moved. That is where I found out that some able-bodied customers have discovered that trolleys normally require £1 coins, but these particular trolleys do not. So, instead of bringing £1 coins with them or using the baskets, they have started using these trolleys. Finding this easy, it seems that they have told others about their “trick” to avoid having to bring coins, and within a week or so, it has gone from many being available, to waiting up to 20 minutes for someone to take them to their car and unpack. And, of course, they get dumped in the car park instead of being returned, and I cannot safely cross the car park to get them myself.

I took a look around and quickly confirmed it was true; people were using them without wheelchairs. When I asked one of them if I could use her trolley, she seemed offended by it and said I could have it after she was done. A worker had to retrieve it from the car park.

It has been an utterly frustrating experience, showing the ignorance of some towards those with disabilities. But, I will be contacting the stores to compliment the customer service staff who told me about the issue, and did everything in their power to find one for me, including sending the staff member to get them from the car park.


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Public Announcements Are A Blessing

, , , , , | Working | June 23, 2018

(I am up at the front of the store on the registers, and my store manager is nearby. Our building is on the larger side. You’d have to yell pretty loudly to talk with someone at the back of the store from the front, which is why we use radios. As I am ringing up a customer, we hear someone sneezing from at least halfway back in the store.)

Unknown Person: “Ah-CHOO! Ah-CHOO! AH-CHOO!”

(My store manager walks to the computer and picks up the phone.)

Store Manager: *on the overhead PA system* “Bless you.”

(The customer and I both start giggling, and we can hear someone, presumably the one who sneezed, crack up loudly in the distance. I soon find out who was sneezing.)

Coworker: *five seconds later over our radios* “Thank you.”

Well, This Isn’t Going Swimmingly

, , , , | Learning | June 23, 2018

(I am a year-ten student in a basic sport class, which everyone at my school is required to take. Due to a medical condition I’ve had from birth, my hip is very weak, and my hip joint is not quite in place. Despite being put in corrective harnesses from birth, my hip will never be quite right. Normally this just means I have low stamina, and my hip aches when I’ve been walking a lot. Recently I had an injury where I got a tear in a tendon on my hip, and so I have a note from my mother explaining to my teacher that I cannot do sport.)

Me: *handing my teacher the note* “I’m sorry, miss, but I can’t do sport today, or for the rest of the term. I have a hip injury.”

Teacher: *reading the note quickly* “You don’t look injured. You can’t just get your mum to write you an excuse; I only let people who are actually injured get out of sport.”

(You cannot tell I have this injury by looking at me, only from x-rays.)

Me: “I understand that; I am injured. I have a pre-existing condition, from birth, which has flared up at the moment. I’m seeing a physiotherapist to help treat it, but it’s not better yet.”

Teacher: “I’ll let you off this once, but next week you have to do sport.”

(I have physio every Wednesday night, and sport on Thursday mornings. My current treatment is dry needling — acupuncture but with more pain and stabbing — which leaves me so sore and bruised I can hardly move. This happens the following week:)

Me: “Miss, I have another note. This one is from my mum and my doctor. My doctor doesn’t want me doing any sport until I’m better.”

Teacher: “This isn’t good enough; you can’t just get out of sport.”

Me: “I’m sorry, miss, but I literally cannot do sport. I can’t bend over, and even sitting down is painful. Swimming isn’t possible for me right now.”

Teacher: “If you don’t do any sport, I can’t pass you. You have to do sport to pass. Get changed before I give you a note home.”

(I end up getting in the pool that day, even though I can hardly move. My mum is furious and sends my teacher an email that includes a full 16 years of my medical history, with x-rays from my birth showing my defect, up until the most recent doctor’s letters. The reply says that I still have to do something, and I have to come in on the last day of term and complete three laps of the pool to pass. I show up on that day with two other girls in my class.)

Me: “Why are you guys here? Did the teacher threaten to fail you?”

Girl #1: “Yeah, but it’s fine. I can swim; I just didn’t want to.”

Me: “How did you get out of swimming in class, then?”

Girl #2: “It’s easy; I just lied and said I’m allergic to chlorine. [Teacher] didn’t even ask for a note!”

(I ended up just passing that class, and moved onto year 11 where I never had to do sport again. I went back a year ago and that teacher is still working there. I will never understand why she seemed to hate me so much. )

Mother Needs To Put Her Foot In Her Mouth

, , , , , , , , | Related | June 22, 2018

We have one of those things that you step on and it tells you what type of insole you need for your shoes — high-arch, pronate… whatever. But for it to work properly, you have to stand on it with your bare feet.

We had some kids wanting to try it, but upon seeing that you had to have bare feet, their mother yelled at them, “No, don’t go on that! You’ll get foot-AIDS!”

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