(I’m trying out a new doctor’s office. It starts normally enough, with filling out a questionnaire and handing it to the nurse. The nurse then takes me into a side room and starts interviewing me — with exactly the same questions! After a while, I snap:)

Me: “That’s all on the questionnaire!”

Nurse: “Yes, but then I would have to read it!”

(Why use these things if you aren’t going to read them anyway?)

(I think I break my wrist while at work, while 34 weeks pregnant. I’m all baby bump — as in VERY noticeable. I get settled in at the urgent care office to wait. An over-the-road driver is in for drug screening.)

Driver: “Hey!”

Me: *keeps reading because why would anyone want to talk to me*

Driver: “Hey! Lady!”

Me: “Oh! Yes, sir?”

Driver: “I need you to do my test for me.”

Me: “WHAT?”

Driver: “Yeah, I won’t be clean. It’s just a pee test.”

Me: “I don’t think so.”

Driver: “Why not? It’s easy!”

Nurse: *behind him* “I’m pretty sure they’d question how you are pregnant.”

Driver: “They can test for that?”

Nurse: “Follow me, sir.”

Me: “Um. What just happened?”

Receptionist: “That’s almost normal.”

(Just a bad sprain for me in the end. I at least didn’t have a weird pee test result.)

(My roommate is diagnosed with brain cancer, and given two years. He immediately adopts an attitude of complete denial, because it won’t make any difference in how long he has, but it certainly improves his outlook on life. He does do the radiation/chemo stuff, though. He makes it his goal to make the nurses at the radiation center laugh at least once every time he is there, since they get little opportunity to do so. He takes great pride in generally succeeding. One day, however, he comes home beaming with pride at having come up with one they’d never heard before:)

Friend: “I wasn’t really worried, until I was in the operating room, and the surgeon came in with an ice cream scoop and a squeeze bottle of chocolate.”

(He said the nurse was entirely grossed out — and immediately ran off to tell all the other nurses. They loved him. (He beat the diagnosis by six months.))

(I’m going to make this straight right off the bat. I LOVE fruit. If my friends have an apple or orange, I WILL ask them for it and if they say no, I WILL try to take it from them. My friends are all very close and they are all aware of my addiction. One day, we are all just hanging at my friend’s place, watching TV and eating ice cream while I’m eating a banana. Note: I am almost 25 years old, and my friends aren’t far behind.)

Me: *to [Friend #1]* “Dude, I swear, I love bananas.”

Friend #1: “What, is there like a rating chart for your fruit fetish?”

Friend #2: “Yeah, like, #1 is apple, and #2 is grapes, and so on?”

Me: “No, it’s because bananas have such a different taste from other fruit. It’s so tingly, and sour.”

(Cue 4 out of my 5 friends looking at my in disbelief; the fifth one is still watching TV.)

Friend #4: “Uh, I’m pretty sure bananas aren’t supposed to be sour.”

Friend #1: “Or tingly. You sure that’s a banana?”

Me: “H*** yeah, I’m sure. What is it supposed to taste like?”

Friend #3: “You may want to get that looked at…”

(At my friend’s insistence, they all drive me to the doctor’s where this following occurs:)

Doctor: “You’re allergic to bananas.”

(Yes. Almost 25 f****** years did it take me to realize that I was allergic to a type of fruit that I’ve been eating almost every day.)

I am a receptionist at a medical centre and a patient has called in to book an appointment. I have asked them to spell out their long, foreign-sounding surname so I can find them in the system. Unfortunately, the call quality is very poor and the patient is not using phonetic spelling, so I just type whatever letter I think I hear, intending to correct it afterwards.

Partway through, I glance up at my computer screen to find that I have typed “FATBUTTS”.

It takes me everything I have to not burst out laughing over the phone, even muting my microphone briefly while composing myself. I ended up looking the patient up by birth date.