CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

In 2013, at the age of 25, I begin to have tonic-clonic seizures. Prior to this, I have never experienced any kind of seizure. As the doctors are trying to understand what’s going on with me, they recommend an MRI to see if there are any physical indications in my brain as to what’s going on. Before the referral is made, the doctor asks if I have any metal in my body and I tell them no, and they note it in my chart. They tell me not to wear any jewelry when I go to have the MRI. 

I go to the MRI clinic and throughout the paperwork process, I am asked several times if I have any metal in my body. I write “no” on all the paperwork and confirm this verbally with the intake person. I then speak with the nurse who takes me back to where the MRI is, and she asks me a couple of times if I have metal in me, as well. I tell her no and that I didn’t wear any jewelry. She writes that down and leaves me to change into clothing with nothing metal in it and to hang out in the room until the tech can come in and prep the machine.

After about five minutes, the tech comes in and begins prepping everything. “Before you lay down, I need to ask if you have any metal in or on your body.”

I am profoundly tired, in a lot of pain from the seizures, and scared I have a brain tumor, and so my coping mechanism kicks in. “Oh, no, just the implant the alien put in me when I was taken up on the mothership,” I say, as brightly as possible.

She looks at me quizzically and I repeat myself, smiling to let her know I’m kidding. She’s silent for a beat and then just sighs and tells me to get on the table. No chill at all.

I understand why they have to ask about metal due to the intense magnetism, but jeez, look at the charts, people! I don’t think I need to answer this question twelve times in the span of 48 hours.

Also, I don’t have a tumor, and my implant didn’t show up in the scan!

(I’ve just been in an accident. While I haven’t been seriously injured, I’m badly shaken and have been told to take a couple of days off work. I call in before getting stitches.)

Me: “Hey, it’s [My Name]. I won’t be able to come in tomorrow or the next day.”

Manager: “Why? Is everything okay?”

Me: “I’ve just been in an accident. They told me to take the next two days off to recover.”

Manager: “Let me look…”

(I hear her typing a bit.)

Manager: “[My Name], you aren’t scheduled for the next two days.”

Me: “Wait, really?”

Manager: “Yep, your next shift is [date].”

Me: “Okay. Thank you.”

(The nurse gives me a look.)

Nurse: “Everything okay?”

Me: “Yeah, I apparently called out for my days off.”

(It’s been a very slow week at work. My manager tells me to go ahead and take a specific day off, since they don’t expect it to be suddenly busy. That day, I’m at home and get a call from work.)

Manager: “[My Name], is everything okay?”

Me: “Uh, yeah, why?”

Manager: “You didn’t come in on time. Did you write down the wrong time?”

Me: “You told me not to worry about coming in today.”

Manager: “You know what? I did. Sorry about that! Have a great day!”

(She apologized when I came in for my next shift. At least she was worried instead of upset!)

(My friend is at a grocery store that also has a pharmacy counter in it. He stops by the pharmacy, but as it’s fairly early in the morning, the counter isn’t open yet. He goes to find an employee:)

Friend: “Excuse me, could you tell me when the pharmacy will be open? I was just over there, but I didn’t see the hours posted anywhere.”

Employee: “Oh, yeah, the pharmacy’s right over there!” *points*

Friend: “No, sorry, I know where the pharmacy is. I was just there. I’d like to know when it will be open.”

Employee: “Yeah, so, the pharmacy is just right over there.” *points to it again*

Friend: “…”

(This repeats a few more times, until:)

Employee: *gives directions to pharmacy yet again*

Friend: “Right. Thanks.” *wanders off to find a different employee to ask*

(After telling me this story:)

Me: “Maybe if you had asked for directions instead, they would’ve told you when it opens!”

(I’m a manager at a pet store and we do allow people to bring their pets into the store. However, we do have stipulations.)

Me: *answering phone* “Hello, [Pet Store], how may I help you?”

Caller: “My puppy has fleas; can you help?”

Me: “I think we can; we have many items to help with fleas. Can I ask you about your puppy?”

(He goes on to explain about his puppy, and it’s obvious over the phone he’s got a bad flea problem.)

Me: “I can help you right away if you come to the store. Just ask for me.”

Caller: “Okay, I’ll be right there. Is it okay if I bring my puppy?”

Me: “Sir, while we do allow pets in the store, I’m going to ask that you do not bring your puppy, because we do not want our other guests to get infested.”

Caller: “Okay, I understand. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

(Sure enough, about ten minutes later a man shows up, but he does have his puppy with him and it is literally covered head to toe in fleas.)

Me: “Sir, aren’t you the man I just spoke with on the phone? Didn’t I ask you not to bring your puppy?”

Caller: “Yes, but I wanted you to see just how bad it was!”

(I managed to get him to take his puppy outside. He was actually a very nice customer and very happy to have me help him out, and eventually, he did see why he shouldn’t have brought his dog into the store.)