Under This Care, You Won’t Live To Be 26, Let Alone 102

, , , , , , | | Healthy | June 5, 2019

After being rushed to hospital via ambulance, I was put in a bed on the ward around two in the morning.

Each bay had four beds in it, and each bed was labelled one through four. The patients’ names were above the beds, and the charts were located at the bottom of the beds.

I hadn’t been asleep for long when I was suddenly thrown upright by someone fiddling with my bed and adjusting the top so I was sitting. Another nurse grabbed my arm before I had fully woken up, so there was one on each side. One was taking my blood pressure and the other was about to insert a needle into my cannula.

Neither had said a word to me.

Tired, cranky, and having only just gotten to sleep after being transferred up from A&E, I asked them what they were doing.

“Just giving you your medicine, Catherine,” one of the nurses replied.

My name is not Catherine.

I asked them to check my chart and to get the needles away from me. They did, grumbling as if I was being dramatic, only to both go wide-eyed. I was in bed two and apparently, they needed the woman in bed one.

I thought nothing of it. I was only happy that they hadn’t injected me with a random drug as I was pregnant, and who knows what could have happened.

It wasn’t until the next morning that I found out that Catherine in the bed across from me was 102 years old and suffering from dementia.

I was twenty-five and heavily pregnant at the time.

I don’t know how they managed to mix us up, but it did not give me much confidence in the nurses during that hospital stay.

I’d Like To Report Myself

, , , , , , | | Legal | June 2, 2019

I was driving along a stretch of road in the middle of the countryside quite late at night when a deer jumped in front of the car. Because the roads were narrow, I was run off the road and into a ditch.

The car wasn’t damaged, but I couldn’t get it out of the ditch on my own.

I called an emergency tow truck to come out and help pull my car from the verge. Then I called my dad.

I didn’t have to wait long for the tow truck to arrive, but the problem was getting my car out. There we were, stuck on the side of the road for ages, his orange lights flashing, my car stuck in a ditch in the pitch black. I think we were there for two hours.

The tow driver advised me to call and file a report with the police, “just in case,” as driving from the scene of an accident is a crime. I did as he advised, but the police station assured me that I didn’t need to come in as no other car was in the accident with me. I tried to make a report but was told I didn’t need to.

Just as dawn started to break, my car was out of the ditch and at the mechanics getting looked over. I promptly went to bed, exhausted and about £350 poorer, when someone knocked on my door.

It was the police.

Apparently, they had gotten a report from someone that I had driven away from an accident.

No one had seen my car or driven past on that dead stretch of road in the entire time I was there and there were no cars around for miles. I was justifiably confused.

I informed them of what the station had said when I phoned — that I was on my own, that no other cars were involved, and that I was at the scene of the accident for three hours total before I did drive away. I also informed them I was advised that I didn’t need to make a report as no crimes had been committed.

The officers phoned into the station. It turned out the “report” of me leaving the scene of the crime was my phone call, trying to report the accident.

I wasn’t charged and the officers left, slightly confused.

The Lack Of Signing Is A Bad Sign

, , , , | | Right | May 31, 2019

(I work in a kitchen and bath showroom. Our computer systems are a bit old school but work fine. Because they are old, I have to manually enter cards. Most people aren’t phased by this at all. Some people… don’t get it.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am, that will be $160.45. You are putting half down for the deposit, so let’s do an even $80. Will that be check or card?”

Customer: “Card. But where do I swipe? All you have is the signature pad!”

Me: “I have to manually enter the card. Just hand it over.”

Customer: “I don’t understand. Do I swipe on the signature pad? I don’t see a spot…”

Me: “Hand the card to me. I have to type it into the system.” *gesturing towards the screen that is set up for entering cards*

Customer: “Is it a tap machine? My card doesn’t do the tap. I have to swipe it or use the chip.”

Me: “I enter it myself. I put the number in. I put all the information in. If you would hand me your card, I will type in the number, security code, zip, and your name. Once I enter it, I will charge your card.”

Customer: “Your coworker doesn’t have a machine, either. How do I pay?”

Me: “Hand me the card.”

(The customer finally hands me her card, and she seems baffled when I enter it and complete the payment.)

Customer: *trying to sign on the signature pad* “This isn’t working, either!”

Me: “Oh, the system doesn’t allow for signatures until the product arrives and the rest of the payment is received. Since we have to order and this was just a deposit, you don’t sign.”

Customer: “I don’t understand why it isn’t lighting up. Is it broken?”

Me: “You don’t have to sign. Not until your order gets here.”

Customer: “Where am I supposed to sign if your pad is broken?”

Me: “You don’t have to sign.”

Customer: “Oh. See you when my order gets here!”

(Yeah. Can’t wait.)

Carting Them Out Of The Only Exit

, , , , | | Right | May 30, 2019

Customer: “Where are all your carts?”

Me: “They are right outside the door.”

(I walk the customer back the fifteen feet to a large line of carts parked directly outside the front entrance and grab one for him.)

Customer: “Ah. I came in the other entrance, so I didn’t see them.”

Me: “We only have one entrance.”

They’re Not Giving You High Fives

, , , , , | | Learning | May 30, 2019

(I work for a high school whose soccer team is competing in a regional match. Earlier in the day, the athletic director came to me in a panic asking if I could take money at the entrance since there was no one else available. A few extra dollars never hurt, so I agree. I pull up to the field and start putting on the money belt.)

Athletic Director: “The way this works is that everyone, and I mean everyone, is $5.”

Me: “Including young children?”

Athletic Director: “Absolutely. They could have a baby that came out of the womb yesterday, $5. A guy in his 90s, $5. Students, whether they are ours or theirs, pay the same. The only exceptions are individuals on the pass list.”

Me: “Okay, so we are charging the same for anyone regardless of age, height, weight, race, sexual orientation, etc.”

Athletic Director: “Exactly.”

Me: “This is going to be interesting.”

(I station myself at the entrance to the park. The first car goes through with no issues. Car number two, however…)

Woman: “What is this?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Woman: “What are you doing here?”

Me: “Oh, I’m the gatekeeper.”

Woman: “We have to pay to see our own kids play?!”

Me: “Yep. $5.”

Woman: “I’m out of here!” *starts backing out* “No wonder people are parking over there!”

(She points at a lot for an entirely different venue some distance away. I don’t have an opportunity to protest as she’s pulled far enough away and another car has come into the line. I handle a few more cars before she walks back up, now with a dog on a leash.)

Me: “It’s still $5.”

Woman: “FOR WHAT?!” *points to dog* “HIM?!”

Me: “No, you.”

Woman: “UGH!”

(She walks back to her car. A few more come through with no issues. Then, she’s back holding out a bill.)

Woman: “I am going to report you! You could have told me that before I went over there!”

(So, what was the implication here? That she didn’t know she would have to pay because this was the first game of her child’s she had ever been to, despite it being the end of the season, or that after already footing the bill towards a five-figures-a-year private school tuition, $5 was stretching it just a little too far? Anyway, the AD’s response to me telling him this event? “Seriously?!” Still waiting on that report!)

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