My mother was seriously injured in a fall while on vacation, in a city on the far side of the country from where her family and friends live. I left the next day to be with her. I arrived after a six-hour flight, tired and scared, in a city I had never been in. I made it to the hospital and found the waiting room while they finished her surgery. Once there, I realized it was nine at night and I had no idea where I would be staying. I knew I had a few calls to make, and asked a woman nearby if I should step outside to do so. She smiled but didn’t say much.

After a couple of minutes, another woman walked in and came over. She said that was her sister and that she didn’t speak English. I tried to talk, but just lost it. Between sobs, I tried to explain why I was there and that I didn’t know where I was going to sleep or much of anything else. She gave me a hug, and then went to talk to the staff at the desk. She came back with one of them who assured me I could sleep in my mom’s room for at least a few nights, and that it was going to be okay. The first woman sat with me until I was calmer.

At this point I realized they were there for their own tragic reason. It turns out one of her brothers had been shot in the head while working at his store. They didn’t know if he would make it or not. But in spite of all that, she made sure that I was okay.

We saw each other during the week I was there. She never failed to smile and ask how mom was.

Thank you to a family of strangers who reached out during their own tragedy to help someone who needed it.

And thanks to four of Mom’s friends and family who took a week each and flew across the country to be there with her. Her case manager said she had more company than some patients who live in the area and have family close by.

(I am a switchboard operator for a large hospital network with multiple campuses, over 100 specialty clinics, as well as primary care and pediatric offices in several different towns.)

Me: “Health Care Switchboard; how may I direct your call?”

Caller: “Yes, I would like directions to my appointment tomorrow.”

Me: “Certainly, sir, which doctor are you going to see?”

Caller: “I don’t know. Can’t you just tell me how to get there?”

Me: “Well, we have many different locations, so I would need to know which office you are going to in order to give you directions. If you don’t know, I could transfer you to the registration department and they can look up your appointments for you.”

Caller: “NO, I don’t want you to transfer me! I don’t understand why you can’t just give me directions!”

Me: “Well, sir, you haven’t given me enough information. Do you remember anything else about the appointment? Was it to see a specialist about a specific problem? Or maybe for radiology? Or some type of procedure?”

Caller: “I don’t know. Just tell me how to get there!”

Me: “If you don’t know anything about the appointment, I would need to transfer you to registration and they would be happy to help you look it up. We do not have access to your medical records at the switchboard.”

Caller: “No. I already told you not to transfer me! God!”

Me: “Well, sir, I would really like to help you, but I just don’t have enough information. Do you remember anything else about this appointment that you could tell me?”

Caller: “I don’t understand why you won’t help me. This is ridiculous. Now I will miss my appointment and it will be your fault!” *hangs up on me*

(My stepmum has been unwell for a few months and has been on a number of different antibiotics. Her symptoms aren’t improving, so she goes back to the doctor and my dad goes with her. During the examination, the following takes place.)

Doctor: “I’m going to put you on a stronger antibiotic, but before I do that, I want to make sure you haven’t had reactions to the antibiotic you’re currently on. Have you had any headaches or trouble sleeping?”

Stepmum: “No. I’m tired from the illness, but I have no trouble sleeping.”

Doctor: “Okay, and any stomach issues?”

Stepmum: “No, that’s fine, too.”

Doctor: “Great. Now, this might be a bit sensitive, but have you had any thrush?”

Stepmum: *looks at my dad, confused* “No, but I have a parrot at home!”

Dad: *nearly peeing his pants with laughter* “He’s means a yeast infection, not a bird!”

(I don’t know it at the time, but I have a herniated disc and the painkillers they gave me for the pain just kicked in. I am walking out of the bathroom, holding my cup of pee after giving a urine sample. A nurse is standing outside, and for some reason I think she is there to collect the sample. I walk towards her, then realize she isn’t a pee collector, but it is too late; I already have her attention, so I just start talking, much to my dismay.)

Me: “Hi, do I give this to you?” *holding up the cup to her*

Nurse: *stares* “No… just… put it on the table in the room… wherever you came from.”

(I work in a restaurant, so I know the dead “did this really just happen to me?” look she had after dealing with a seemingly crazy person. I’ll be kicking myself for a while.)

(I’ve gone to the emergency room. I get checked in through triage, and the nurse gives me the appropriate paperwork and sends me to the next waiting area. I drop my paperwork into the tray at the waiting area as instructed and take a seat. There are five or six other people already waiting. Every few minutes, a nurse will call a name and direct that person to an exam room.)

Nurse: “[Female Name that isn’t mine].”

(Nobody responds.)

Nurse: *repeats*

(Still no response.)

Nurse: *looks directly at me* “Are you [Female Name that isn’t mine]?”

Me: *a male, shakes head* “No, that’s not me.”

(The nurse disappears after that. A short while later I’m called by the same nurse and sent to an exam room. The nurse pulls open the curtain and there’s already someone there. She seems surprised by this but directs me to another room and leaves the curtain somewhat open as I sit down. The doctor comes in to see me after a few more minutes.)

Doctor: *reading his papers* “Okay, [Female Name that isn’t mine], looks like you’re here for [not my issue].”

Me: *still a male* “No, I’m [My Name], and I’m here for [my concern].”

(The doctor looked up for the first time and saw me. He was obviously confused, but double-checked his papers and walked out. I saw him go to the occupied room I was sent to initially. I don’t know why they were so insistent on me being that woman.)