This takes place at the waiting room for the emergency room of a local hospital. Both the waiting room and the ER itself are full, and we are trying to take care of patients as fast as we can. Understandably, some people are upset, but they don’t mind waiting.

However, this one guy does mind. He has already been complaining for a while and we’ve done our best to ignore him. However, when another patient gets in, he explodes.

Father: *Angry knocking* “Hey! Open up in there! My daughter is out here dying!”

Me: “Sir, I already told you we are full here, and during our preliminary examination, your daughter was doing fine.”

Father: “She is not fine! She is dying, for God’s sake!”

I take a look at the little girl, who is happily playing some game on her father’s phone.

Me: “Sir, your daughter seems fine. We will get to her as soon as we take care of our current patients that require immediate attention.”

Father: “Oh, so my daughter doesn’t matter?! Huh? Is that it, then? You don’t care? There’s probably one patient in there, and you’re all just lazy. You doctors are so full of yourselves and think you are above us. You will see my daughter, now!”

By the end of his rant, everyone is staring, and an ambulance has pulled up to the entrance bringing a newborn baby who’s having trouble breathing. We get the baby in, and the father goes red-faced. But before he can say anything, having already lost my patience, I respond:

Me: “Sir, we now have three newborn babies that require our immediate care, or else they could die. We have two kids with severe dengue that require IV fluids or else they’ll go into shock. We have a kid and a baby that require oxygen before we can transfer them to the ICU. Not only is the ER over its intended capacity, but it’s full of life-threatening emergencies. We need to stabilize these patients before we can bring in any new ones. Your daughter is playing Candy Crush on your phone, looking perfectly fine. We will get to your daughter as soon as we can. However, if you continue to berate me, my colleagues or anyone else at the hospital I will call the police. Do you understand me?”

The father nodded sheepishly and sat down.

I am not proud of my yelling, but at least I know it’s enough to settle down rowdy parents.

(I am going to the mall with my dad, and I notice he left the blinkers on.)

Me: “Hey, Dad, you left your blinkers on.”

Dad: “Huh? Oh, that. Yeah, it’s happened a couple of times before; don’t sweat it.”

Me: “But… won’t the battery die?”

Dad: “Nah, just leave it.”

(This repeats itself a couple more times, and possibly more times at his workplace. Fast forward two weeks…)

Mom: “I’ll be back in a bit. Your dad’s car battery died and he needs a lift.”