(I am 37 weeks pregnant and am having an ultrasound on my baby to monitor his kidneys, which are enlarged, but otherwise healthy. A very nice student tech is doing the ultrasound under the watchful eye of the attending OB/GYN and the supervising tech, who are viewing the video in the next room. The student is being very careful and thorough, trying to get good pictures of every structure, and is taking a LONG time. Finally, the supervising ultrasound tech comes in, cackling, and addresses the student.)

Supervisor: “Dr. [OB] says if you keep her in here much longer, she’s going to have to deliver her right on this table.”

(She wasn’t too far off; I went into labor shortly afterward!)

(I have recently gotten pregnant with my first child, and am at my OB/GYN having an initial consult with a nurse practitioner who appears to be in her mid-50s. We are going over restrictions now that I’m pregnant. My family are avid fishermen, and my husband and I regularly eat the freshwater fish we catch.)

Nurse Practitioner: “Here’s a pamphlet on fish and seafood. Research has really helped recently, so there’s a comprehensive list of what types of fish are safe and which ones you should limit.”

Me: *looking over list, and noticing it’s only ocean fish* “Okay, but what about freshwater fish? Are there risks or restrictions on those?”

Nurse Practitioner: “It should be on the list; they have types listed there.”

Me: “No, I know, but these are all ocean fish: salmon, tuna, cod, etc. I’m talking about freshwater fish. My family and I catch and eat locally, and at our cabin in Minnesota:perch, bluegill, northern pike. Are those okay?”

Nurse Practitioner: “I’ve literally never had anyone ask me that.”

Me: “Really?”

Nurse Practitioner: “I guess I don’t get many patients who fish! I’d say it’d be okay to eat those as long as you ensure that they’re cooked thoroughly.”

(It surprised me that in a rural area, a nurse practitioner with that much experience wouldn’t have come across that before!)

(I’m standing at the reception desk of my doctor’s office when suddenly I hear a woman yell:)

Woman: “I don’t have blood anymore!”

(I do a mental double-take since the receptionist seems completely unfazed.)

Woman: “Mrs. [Receptionist]! I don’t have blood anymore!”

(The receptionist looks up, smiling benevolently. Just as I start to wonder what the heck is going on, a female doctor’s assistant walks up to the reception desk, trailed by a courier carrying a sealed box.)

Doctor’s Assistant: “Mrs. [Receptionist], the courier is here; all the blood samples will be sent out now.”

(Finally, it clicked. So, there wasn’t a vampire phlebotomist on the loose!)

(I donate blood regularly. One time, when they insert the needle, I immediately feel lightheaded for a second or two. Since I have not yet lost more than a few drops of blood, definitely not enough to cause a significant loss of blood pressure, I assume it was just a psychosomatic reaction to having such a large needle inserted, shrug it off, and decide to continue with the draw. A few minutes later, it comes back again, and with a vengeance.)

Me: *raising hand shakily* “Um… Excuse me?”

(I immediately have three technicians surrounding me.)

Technician: “Are you okay?”

Me: “I’m feeling a bit lightheaded.”

(They spring into action, immediately removing the needle. One of them reclines my seat so my feet are elevated above my head, one goes to grab damp cloths, which they drape over every inch of exposed skin I have, and one goes to grab me a juice box to increase my blood sugar. After a while, the seat is returned to its regular position, and they continue feeding me juice. I am eventually allowed to go to the recovery area, with two people escorting in case I pass out on the way. Once I sit down, I call my friend who I was supposed to meet to tell her I’ll be delayed. Partway through the conversation, I hear running steps behind me, then feel a hand on my shoulder. I look up to see a woman with a very concerned expression, who looks at me for a moment and then laughs.)

Volunteer: “Oh, you’re on your cell phone! I thought you were talking to yourself!”

Me: “Oh, no. I’m just letting my friend know I’m going to be late.”

Volunteer: “Oh, good.”

Friend: “What was that?”

Me: “Oh, the volunteer thought I was talking to myself. Can you imagine that? ‘Oh, great! First he nearly passes out, and now he’s hallucinating!'”

(They eventually let me go, and I was only 30 minutes late to meet my friend. Fortunately, while everything was going on, one of the techs mentioned I had filled most of a bag, and when I asked if it could still be used, he assured me it could.)

(I have made an appointment with my general practitioner, as I have developed a skin condition on my foot that I want checked out. Please note that I am definitely overweight, but not in any way obese, and the doctor himself is visibly much more overweight than I am. When I am called through, he listens to my concern, then pulls out this gem:)

Doctor: “How much do you weigh?”

Me: *confused, but assuming this is part of the normal health assessment* “Um, about [weight].”

Doctor: “Okay, and what birth control are you using?”

Me: *now assuming the problem could be a side effect of some birth control types* “Oh, none. I’m not in a relationship, but if I were, we’d probably use condoms.”

Doctor: “Oh, good. You know, you really are quite overweight. It’s good you’re not sexually active. At your weight, if you fell pregnant, I’d have to force you to have an abortion.”

(This statement shocked me so badly that I froze and just sat, staring at him, as he lectured me about my weight. He advised me to try taking very small bites of my food, telling me that this method worked great for him. I left, still in a state of shock, and then realised that he did not address the problem with my feet. Another doctor later confirmed it was eczema.)