When I was around seven years old, I was hospitalized and ended up staying in the hospital for a few days. On my second day, my brother (a year older than me) was left to “look after me” while the adults went down to the hospital cafeteria to get some food.

We found ourselves in one of the nursing stations and saw a Coke bottle inside their fridge.

Brother: “Oh, look. Those are for the patients!”

Me: “They are?”

Brother: “Yeah. You should drink it.”

Of course, I drank it without a second thought (soda was restricted in our household). Then my brother started laughing.

Brother: “Ha! I was kidding. That was one of the nurse’s Cokes! Now you’re a fugitive because you stole a Coke!”

Naive and gullible me believed him because, of course, I believed two lies from my older brother one after the other.

For the duration of my stay at the hospital, I was a pain to take care of because I would run away from any nurses or doctors, thinking I was about to get arrested. 

Later that afternoon, the nurse came by to check on me, and:

Nurse: “Where’s [My Name]?”

Mom: *Already exhausted.* “Hiding behind the door.”

Nurse: *Closes door to see me facing the wall, trying to hide.* “So he is? What are you doing back there, [My Name]?”

Mom: *Deep sigh.* “Trying to outrun the law.

I did laugh after, though, when my mom told me that she’d made my brother buy the nurses a six-pack of Coke cans out of his allowance as penance for his little prank.

If this story gets posted, I will post a photo of the award in the comments, because this story is going to sound rather unbelievable. 

In 2017, I was awarded the Top Cop award through ASIS Hawaii for saving the life of the property manager on my site. The wording on the award is “Supervisor [Name] demonstrated composure and professionalism during this quickly escalating medical situation.” 

Let me tell you… it was… not easy.

So, my property manager and I were locating and mapping water valves. The property we were on was former military, a valley in central Oahu housing old bunkers from WWII. People in Hawaii reading this story might be familiar with the name “Lualualei” in Waianae, but this property was the Lualualei Naval Annex from… as far as we can tell… the 1930s to the 1990s. 

With no good maps of the original, or even the added infrastructure, my manager and I were no strangers to hacking our way through the forests, exploring abandoned buildings and doing things WAY outside of our job descriptions, but both of us loved it. We were both the outdoors type; we had both been bitten, stung, and injured on this site, and I was operating way outside of the boundaries of my actual position as the head of security.

This time was different; this time my property manager got stung in the head by a paper wasp. After he got stung, we gave up for the day; it was still rather early, I hadn’t even collected the patrol vehicle yet, and we had been driving around in our personal cars. We went down to the office of our largest tenant and got drinks, sat down and started talking to them, and then things got WILD.

The manager started wobbling on his feet; he couldn’t quite stand up straight anymore. I immediately went to phone EMS, but he had an insurance plan through a provider that only provides service at their own hospitals and clinics. He told me no; the closest location of that provider, Kaiser, was less than fifteen minutes away. As he seemed mostly okay, I packed him into my car and drove. 

On the way to Kaiser, he started to fade in and out of consciousness, though he kept a solid handle on the situation somehow. Still, I hammered the gas, rolling through the town at about ten over until we pulled into Kaiser’s driveway. I stopped in front of the doors and ran inside.

Me: “We need help!”

Kaiser Employee: “We don’t have an emergency room here… sorry.”

Me: “But we need help! He’s losing consciousness; I think he’s having trouble breathing.

Kaiser Employee: “And I said we don’t have an emer—”

I ran back outside before she could finish. The bad thing is that, in order to get to this Kaiser, we had driven the opposite direction of the main area hospital, Queens West Oahu.

Manager: “What happened, why are we moving again?”

Me: “No emergency room, I’m going to Wahiawa General, it’s closest now.”

Manager: “I’m going to call an ambulance…”

I started driving while he dialed 911; he started filling dispatch in on what was happening, and as we approached the freeway and got stopped by a red light, it sounded as if they were going to send an ambulance out to our location. As we were arranging it…boop, boop, boop call failed…

That was it; I ran the red light and throttled onto the I-H2 North at criminal speeds, hoping that a police officer would see me, but of course…the one time you need them to be there…there are no speed traps.

We pulled into Wahiawa General Hospital hot, and I jumped out and managed to get him into the building.

Me: “HELP! He got stung; he can’t breathe! I think he’s having a severe allergic reaction!

Desk Worker: “Oh hello, we can help with that.” *She pushes a clipboard across the desk.* “Can you please have him fill this out?”

Me: “HE CAN’T B-R-E-A-T-H-E!”

Desk Worker: “Oh! OH!”

She hit a button, triggering a code throughout the hospital, and the room flooded with employees. My manager was taken away, and I finally had a chance to sit down, totally forgetting that my car was sitting outside, partially on the sidewalk, running with two doors open.

They ended up administering epinephrine, and he was back to normal in about an hour to an hour and a half.

Security also came in to ask about the steaming, 2013 Mazda 2 outside violating multiple parking rules, but I suppose this kind of thing was normal because, once I explained the situation, they moved the car for me and gave me back my keys. I would also find out later that the rear license plate had flown off somewhere en route, necessitating moving the front plate to the back for a little while, even though it didn’t have a registration tab on it.

Anyway, three hours later we were at Chili’s talking about the day. 

By far the craziest thing I’ve ever been part of.

I filed a massive complaint with Kaiser, because 100% that clinic could have helped. They said “They’d discuss it with the location,” but also emphasized that it is “known” that that location does not have an ER and encouraged me to utilize ambulance services or visit Queens West in the future.

911 dispatch never tried to call us back as they do now. Not sure what happened there.

I work in a hospital that was originally built in the 1920s, and over the past hundred years it’s had several additions made and remodeling done. Complicating the building even further, it was constructed on a steep hill, meaning the first seven floors all have street access somewhere along the length of the building. Getting around can be somewhat confusing, so there are several maps posted around the place, and volunteers make sure there are maps people can take with them, so they don’t get lost.

Inevitably though, there are always people who ignore the maps in favor of asking whoever happens to be nearby at the time for directions. This is normally fine, but occasionally I get an interaction like this one:

Visitor: “Does this elevator go to the lobby?”

Me: “That depends on which lobby; there are five of them you might be thinking of. What floor are you trying to get to?”

Visitor: “The main lobby.”

Me: “Whichever lobby you wanted depends on what you came for and what floor you were on.”

Visitor: “The one at street level. Why are you making this so difficult?”

Me: “All of the lobbies have an exit to the street, and they range from the first floor to the seventh floor. You’ll have to help narrow it down a bit more. Do you know what floor you’re looking for? Do you know what the patient is here for? Do you know what side of the hospital you entered from?”

Visitor: “Ugh, you’re not very helpful.”

I get that if you’re at a hospital, you probably have a lot more on your mind than usual, but nobody can read your mind when you won’t tell them what they need to know to help you.

I’m in the hospital for something or other, and in the ward near me is a five-year-old boy with a bandaged foot. He’s having a conversation with the doctor while his mom is standing to the side.

Doctor: “So, [Boy’s Name], what have we learned today?”

Boy: “That Hulk flip-flops are not as strong as The Hulk.”

Doctor: “And what will you not do while wearing them in the future?”

Boy: “I will not shout “Hulk Stomp!” and step on old nails.”

Doctor: “Because what is not fun?”

Boy: “Tet… tet…”

Doctor: “Tetanus.”

Boy: “Tet-nuss is not fun.”

Doctor: “Good lad. Grab a cookie from the nurse’s station on the way out.”

Mom: “And don’t get any ideas with your Cap’n America flip-flops either! They’re not made of vibranium!”

Doctor: *Sighs.* “Who keeps buying him Marvel flip-flops!?”

I am a doctor at an emergency ward. Back in January, a night of undercooled rain resulted in a world coated in ice, as if everything was covered in soaped glass. I had the day off after a long and gruelling work period, but my boss called to beg me for help. It should be noted that my boss didn’t have any background in healthcare but was considered qualified due to having worked as a manager in a car factory.

Boss: “[Doctor #1] and [Doctor #2] cannot come in, since the roads are too dangerous. [Doctor #3] slipped and hit her head; she suffered a mild concussion and cannot work. Could you please come in? Otherwise, we’ll only have [New, inexperienced doctor], and a neck surgeon and a cardiologist we could scrape together from other wards. We really need another emergency doctor.”

Me: “Right, this is an all-hands situation. I’m penguin-waddling in, but I want you to know that I’m not taking this as overtime pay but overtime vacation, and I will also use one of my already saved up overtime days after this.”

Boss: “Of course!”

Me: “That means I add two days on top of my already scheduled days off. I will therefore be away for five days straight after today. Is that clear?”

Boss: “Whatever you say! I’ll make it work!”

I waddled in and arrived to total chaos. Everyone and their mum needed triaging after slips and falls, and that was on top of the usual chest pains, burns, cuts, and weird things in unmentionable places.

At the first opportunity (several hours of work with minimal breaks), I entered my overtime vacation in the system and slumped into a chair in the break room next to my boss, a secretary, and a senior nurse. I reminded my boss of what we had agreed upon so he could verify it ASAP.

Boss: “Well, about that…”

Me: “What now?”

Boss: “Could you accept three days off and the rest as money?”

Me: “No.”

Boss: “What? Why? What will you do that is so important?”

Me: “Rest.”

Boss: “What? You’ll just do nothing?”

Me: “Not nothing. I will rest.”

Boss: “That’s it? Just lazing about—”

Me: “—Resting is an activity that is important for my health. I intend to eat, sleep, exercise, and play board games with my children. Watch a movie with my wife. Possibly even invite a friend over and play StarCraft.”

Boss: “But it is also important that you’re a team player—”

Nurse: “[Boss], do you seriously not think that coming in on a day off to save our collective butts is being a team player?”

Boss: “Well, it looks bad if people start expecting so much time off after just some work…”

Secretary: “[My Name] does make decisions that could mean life and death. Isn’t that more important than how this looks on the schedule?”

Boss: “Fine! If it’s so bloody important then—”

Me: “—It is. Five days.”

Boss: “God, you’re annoying!” *Storms off.*

Me: “Thanks, guys. I’m in your debt.”

Nurse: “Don’t think about it. We need to stick together!”

Secretary: “He promised. If you need five days and he agreed, you should have five days.”

Me: “I appreciate it.”

The boss had sent out a passive-aggressive e-mail when I returned.

E-mail: “It is important that we work as a team here and help each other out to fix scheduling problems. We have a duty to each other and especially the patients to never be understaffed.”

The reply from the most senior doctor:

Reply: “It is important that our leadership prevents understaffing by hiring enough staff and allowing enough time off to prevent burnout. The patients deserve healthcare from rested professionals.”

The boss recently resigned, citing how “unwilling to compromise”, “egoistic,” and “stubborn” we were regarding vacation, scheduled days off, and overtime as major reasons for quitting. He will instead run a grocery store. I pity his staff.