(I’m in the ER for what I later learn is a massive kidney stone. I’m on disability and Medicaid, which of course I tell the desk, so they can bill it appropriately. A doctor comes in later.)

Doctor: “We’re going to keep you overnight and give you [pain medication] to help.”

(He leaves without any more information. At this point, I’ve only received Tylenol, which is doing nowhere near enough for the level of pain I’m at. I’m moved to a different unit in the hospital, and for the next eight hours, I’m in a painful daze as I still didn’t get medication. Word gets to my mom, who, while having the voice and appearance of a fairy godmother, also knows when people aren’t doing their jobs. She comes to visit and speak with a nurse.)

Mom: “Has she been given any medication?”

Nurse: “No, until [Doctor] actually sends through the order we can’t give her anything but Tylenol.”

Mom: “What?! He saw her early this morning and he hasn’t done something this simple?!”

Nurse: “I know, ma’am. I’ve tried paging him and he keeps saying he’ll get to it.”

Mom: “Can you page him up here?”

(I can see the nurse get a HUGE grin.)

Nurse: “Absolutely, ma’am. Just one minute!”

(After even more painful waiting, the doctor finally comes in. He looks bored and annoyed at having to come personally to me.)

Mom: “Are you her doctor?”

Doctor: “Yes, ma’am.”

(As soon as he confirms, my mom TEARS into him. She yells about how I’ve been suffering, how she got a call from a nurse about me being here, how I didn’t know what was going on and wasn’t given anything because of his incompetence. The man looks utterly terrified.)

Mom: “Now, you are going to get her whatever medications she needs right now. I am going to make some phone calls that are going to make your life h*** because I sincerely doubt my daughter is the only one who’s been treated this way by you!”

(I was blissfully medicated within the hour. My mom did, in fact, make some calls. I was quickly assigned a new doctor, and later found out the first one was fired for patient neglect.)

(My grandmother’s friends come into the room and sit down next to me.)

Male Friend: “How are you doing, [My Name]?”

Me: “Okay.”

Male Friend: “Just okay? Not fabulous? Not superb? Not fantastic?”

(I turn and look at my grandmother, who is laying in a hospital bed on life support and is predicted to pass sometime in the next 24 hours.)

Me: “Well, maybe if circumstances were different, I’d be more than okay.”

Male Friend: *stiffly* “Well, you should be using other adjectives than ‘okay.’”

I’m an American living and working in Japan. One day, I get severely ill, so I call an ambulance and am taken to the hospital. It turns out to be an easily treated condition, but they keep me in for observation overnight.

During checkout the next day, they keep warning me and apologizing that payment will be expensive, even with my insurance. “I’m so sorry but it will be pricey,” is something I hear from several people. 

At that point, I’m a little worried about the cost, but checkout is almost done and they present me with the bill — about ¥30,000, a little under $300 US.

I surprise them when I start laughing, then horrify them when I say that an ambulance ride, hospital stay, and followup medication in the US would easily add up to at least ten times that price!

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(I have just given birth to my son and am with the nurse who is head of the maternity section. It just happens that we went to school together.)

Nurse: “So, we just have to get some things out of the way. First, do you want him circumcised?”

Me: “No, definitely not.”

Nurse: “Thank goodness. Do you know how horrible it is? They do it without anaesthesia and basically just cut the foreskin off with scissors. The poor babies go through so much pain, it makes me sick every time a parent wants it done, and I’m not allowed to try to talk anyone out of it or… um… say what I just said.”

I’m the only girl in my family and have three younger brothers. I spent most of my second year of life begging for a sister, and was very unhappy when my first brother was born. When I was seven years old, my mom got pregnant again and I was really hoping she’d have a baby girl.

I didn’t know the gender of the baby until my dad and grandfather brought me and my five-year-old first brother to the hospital to see Mom and the new baby. My brother was bored by the whole affair, but I was curious because I really wanted a sister.

But alas, my parents introduced me to my second brother. According to my parents and grandfather, I took one look at the new baby, looked a mix of disgusted and disappointed, and asked, “Another boy?”

My grandfather nearly had to leave the room, he was laughing so hard. I never did get my requested sister. Thankfully, I didn’t do this when my third brother was born two years later!