(I work in a busy maternity ward, and I’m constantly amazed at how many people will show up to visit someone who’s just given birth. Your ex-boyfriend’s best friend’s ex-girlfriend’s third cousin from grade school will show without batting an eyelid. The following exchange is unfortunately very common:)

Visitor: “Hi, I’m here to see Lisa Jones.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t have anybody named Jones. Is there another name she might be using?”

(Even people who are married often book in under their maiden name, as a way of not getting too many visitors, and elderly people often assume the woman’s name is the same as her partner’s, even if they’re not married, because they can’t imagine letting the hospital know you’re having a baby out of wedlock!)

Visitor: “She must be here; she was only born this morning.”

Me: “Wait, is that the baby’s name? I need the mother’s name. She’s the patient. As the baby’s name isn’t registered yet, all babies are listed as ‘Baby of [Mother].’”

Visitor: “The father is Dick Jones.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I need the mother’s name; otherwise, I can’t help you.”

Visitor: “I think her name might be Ann.”

Me: “I honestly can’t help you if you don’t know her name.”

Visitor: “Couldn’t you just check the fathers’ and the babies’ names?”

Me: “We. Have. No. Record. Of their names. Only the mothers are admitted as patients.”

(At this point, even if there’s only one patient on the ward named Ann, and I KNOW that’s who you’re looking for, there’s no way you’re getting in to see her if YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW HER NAME!)

Me: “Well, could you call her? Or the father? I’m sure he can tell you what name she’s using.”

Visitor: *doubtfully* “Well, I don’t really know him.”

(So, you don’t know the mother, as you, “think her name might be Ann,” and you don’t really know the father, usually a vague acquaintance such as, your partner plays football with him, and you maybe know the mother by sight, but you think it’s appropriate to come see her in the, hospital hours after she’s given birth?!)

(My parents and I are sitting in the ER waiting room, waiting for my mom’s test results to come back. It’s very early in the morning, and the waiting room is quite small, so the few of us in there are all within eyesight of each other, except one woman sitting on the other side of a pillar from us. We’ve been there for a few minutes when a nurse comes in, carrying an armload of cleaning supplies. She walks over to the woman behind the pillar.)

Nurse: “Where was that man sitting?”

Woman: “Oh, three chairs over from me.”

(You can see everyone in the room count three chairs over from this woman… where another woman happens to be sitting. As soon as she realizes this, she tenses up and the guy next to her recoils away. The nurse awkwardly approaches.)

Nurse: “I need to clean this chair. The man who was sitting there had an… um… accident in his pants.”

(She immediately gathered all of her stuff and moved chairs, whispering somewhat-panicked statements to her male companion about whatever it was she was sitting in without realizing. We were called back before her, but the rest of the time we were there, she was sitting on the edge of her new chair, trying to touch as little as possible. You know you’re having a bad day when you’re in the ER at 1:00 am and find out you’re sitting in a stranger’s “accident.”)

(I have the stomach flu, and have spent the night throwing up, with diarrhea. Dehydrated and in pain, I go to the emergency room. I’m trying to do something to distract myself from the pain, so I turn on the TV in the room. The channel buttons don’t work, so it’s stuck on a staged reality show that features a lot of yelling and fighting. The nurse comes in while it’s on commercial.)

Nurse: “Okay, you are so dehydrated the doctor wants you on IV fluids for a while before we run more tests. Oh, what are you watching? Oh, this show is so trashy; I can’t believe it. Who would watch a trashy show like this. Do you like this?”

Me: “It’s what was on.”

Nurse: “Oh, wow. I can’t believe how trashy this is.”

(She stops and turns to watch the TV, ignoring me. It isn’t until the next commercial break that she finally turns and puts the IV in my arm, then leaves without attaching the saline. I start dry-heaving again, and she comes back in to give me a bucket to throw up in.)

Nurse: “Didn’t I attach the saline? I must have been distracted by that trashy TV show you like. What are they doing now?”

(She watches until the end of the episode, while I deal with waves of nausea, then finally comes back with the saline drip.)

Nurse: “Oh, my God, it’s another episode! Are they running a marathon? Who watches this trash?”

(She fiddles with the saline drip for a while, while watching the TV, and then stands and watches until the next commercial break. As soon as she leaves, I turn off the TV. She comes back in a moment later with another nurse.)

Nurse #2: “Why didn’t you start the anti-nausea medicine?”

Nurse: “I only just got the IV on her.”

(I was finally medicated, and as it kicked in, I drifted off into sleep. I was woken up by the TV being turned back on, and the nurse standing there watching it. She caught me watching and shook her head, muttering about the trashy show.)

I work in a very large trauma ER, and we are very busy. I see a lot of weird things, but this one stands out.

A mother brings her 17-year-old daughter in for a “fever.” The registration clerk asks how high the fever is. Mom says, “100.” This is not really an emergency fever unless you have maybe an immune deficiency or are in cancer treatment.

The clerk asks how long she’s had the fever. Mom says, “Like, a day.” The pediatric ER is very busy that day, so they end up waiting about an hour. Halfway through, I look over into the waiting room. The daughter is on her phone, looking as healthy and happy as can be. Mom is nowhere to be seen, but since the daughter is an older teen, I don’t think much of it. Maybe she went to move the car or something.

Ten minutes later, the mom comes back… with fried chicken. They both proceed to eat chicken in the waiting room full of sick people until the daughter is called back. She is almost immediately discharged.

(I work as a housekeeper at a hospital. It is hard work, but I love the people I work with. There is one coworker who I take a liking to, mainly because he is a lot like my grandfather who had died. He is 60 years old and has worked at the hospital for almost 40 years. Whenever someone calls out and we can’t find a replacement, we will have to clean. I typically get partnered up with him. I learn quickly why everyone wants to have him as a partner. He will go down an hour before the time we set to start and he will finish EVERYTHING before I get to the area. One day I find out he often has a hard time finishing my area. In order to make it so I can actually help, I go down one and half hours early. As usual, he comes down an hour early to find I have done most of the area.)

Coworker: “What are you doing down here? We agreed to ten.”

Me: “I knew you would come down at nine and do everything. I wanted to do at least my portion of this area; we are supposed to clean it together! There is a bathroom left that needs to be done.”

Coworker: “But I didn’t need your help!”

Me: “Well, I want to do my portion. So, save me half or I’ll come down even earlier.”

Coworker: *suddenly smiles* “You know what? You remind me of my son.”

Me: “How so?”

Coworker: “You’re a stubborn jacka**.”

Me: “I wonder where he got that trait?”

(I found out after talking to him on our break that his son and wife had died in a car accident five years ago. When he met my wife, he told me that we remind him of how he and his wife were when they first got married. I no longer work as a housekeeper, but we stay in touch. He’s helped my wife and I with getting food in times where we were struggling.)