My mom is having some blood tests done. The technician takes the sample and has my mom put pressure on her arm for a few minutes. Mom then puts on her coat, leaves the office, and heads for the elevator.

When the elevator arrives, the woman inside looks at my mom and shouts, “LADY!” Mom looks down and sees blood running down her arm and hand.

She goes back to the doctor’s office, where the staff bandage her arm, clean her coat as best they can, and make her wait half an hour to make sure she’s OK before sending her home.

The next morning, she gets a call from the doctor’s office. “Could you come in again today? The driver who came to pick up the samples yesterday dropped and broke them all.”

(I’m in high school, having dinner with my first girlfriend and her family, when her mom leans over to me.)

Girlfriend’s Mom: “Did you know your pupils are different sizes?”

Me: “…no?”

Mom: “Have you been in an accident? Hit your head recently? This is really serious!”

Me: *starting to get freaked out* “N-no, nothing like that!”

Mom: “You NEED to get this checked out! You might have a brain tumour!”

(I go home and tell my mom, who makes me an ophthalmologist appointment, but the soonest I can get in is in a month. I spend that month terrified I have cancer. Finally my appointment arrives, and they run a barrage of tests on my eyes.)

Doctor: *casually* “You know; I’m still going to dilate your pupils just to make sure; about 25% of people’s pupils are just naturally different sizes.”

(I’m glad everyone was concerned and thorough, but they couldn’t have told me that earlier? More than ten years on, my pupils are still different sizes.)

(For a few years now, several doctors have suspected that I have some form of an autoimmune disease, as I’ve had problems with excessive bleeding and joint pains most of my life. I’ve just been to a specialist, who, based on the limited information I had about my family’s medical history, concluded that the odds of me having a genetic disease are limited. I’m at my GP’s office, with a list from my mother. My mother and I have the same GP, and I’ve been seeing her my whole life.)

GP: “I know you mother has [Condition #1], and you’re saying her sister has it as well?”

Me: “Yes, and another one of her sisters has [Condition #2]. Then I have a cousin with [more severe Condition #1], and another cousin with [more severe Condition #2]. My grandmother had [Condition #3], which her mother died of.”

GP: “Luckily, no one dies from [Condition #3] today. Is your grandmother still alive?”

Me: “No, but she died of old age and stubbornness.”

GP: *chuckling* “Right. And this is all on your mother’s side?”

Me: “Yes.”

GP: *reading through the list again* “Well, I’ll send the information to [Specialist] and we’ll see if that’ll change her diagnosis.” *somewhat jokingly* “Let’s hope you get most of your genes from your father’s side.”

Me: “Really? Because Dad has epilepsy, his sister had breast cancer, they both have diabetes, and Grandpa thinks he’s back in the 1950s.”

(I am a below-the-knee amputee and have to visit my doctors quite frequently, so it gets a little funny when they ask their questions.)

Nurse: “Do you have a fear of falling?”

Me: *looks at her, looks at missing leg* “Um, yes.”

Nurse: “Do you have trouble walking?”

Me: “Um… That would also be a yes.”

(Somehow it never occurs to them that I am missing my leg, yet the information is right in front of them.)

(A woman waddles into the building.)

Woman: “I need to see a doctor.”

Me: “Do you have an appointment?”

Woman: “No, I need to see one now.”

Me: “I’m sorry, emergency appointments ended at 11. I can make you an appointment, however, for next week?”

Woman: “NO! IT HAS TO BE NOW!”

Me: “If it’s an emergency you need to go to A&E. Should i call an ambulance?”

Woman: *jumping on the desk* “I RUBBED ‘DEEP HEAT’ ON MY GARDEN PATCH. IT F****** KILLS!”

Me: “Oh, umm. Like I said, if it’s an emergency, you need to go to A&E.”

(She huffed and waddled out, screaming about how incompetent we all were. I haven’t seen her personally since, but a letter came through from the local hospital for her, with a prescription for something which treats chemical burns. I’m fairly certain Deep Heat wasn’t involved in whatever she was doing.)