“Purely” Obnoxious

, , , , | Healthy | May 1, 2019

(I have been battling a lot of stomach pain and bloating. One day, it becomes unbearable. My regular doctor’s office is closed, so I go to Urgent Care. The doctor comes in and asks what my symptoms are. I’ve just finished describing them to her.)

Doctor: “And is there any chance you’re pregnant?”

Me: *laughs* “Nope. No chance.”

Doctor: “Don’t laugh, young lady. It’s a normal diagnosis for a young lady in her 20s.”

Me: “I understand that. But if I’m pregnant, you’d better start looking for a star, three wise men, and some shepherds.”

(I’ve used this joke with my regular doctor and my OBGYN, and they both laughed. This doctor, however, frowns and folds her arms.)

Doctor: “Uh-huh. Your chart says you’re on birth control. Tell me, what does a ‘virgin’ need birth control for?”

(Yes, she actually air-quotes “virgin” with her fingers. I explode.)

Me: “Because I have severe period problems, and I can’t afford to be in bed for two weeks a month with cramps and migraines! Not everyone who is on birth control does it so they can have sex! Way to assume things, though. Do you do this to all your female patients?”

Doctor: “Um… Let’s just check your stomach, shall we?”

Me: “Yes, please!”

(As she’s examining me:)

Doctor: “Ah… I think it’s really admirable to see a young lady in her 20s who is still… pure.”

Me: “Don’t try to make this better.”

Doctor: “Sorry.”

(She announced that she had no idea what I had, and sent me home with an antibiotic. I didn’t take it. I called my regular doctor when the office reopened. He ordered a bunch of tests. It was determined later that I had a nasty case of IBS.)

Unfiltered Story #148184

, , , | Unfiltered | April 29, 2019

( I often enjoy odd greetings to make people smile, sometimes they don’t go to plan)

Me:  ” Hello there, could I book an appointment with anyone that knows human anatomy”

Receptionist “Sorry Sir, I think you have the wrong number, this is a Doctors surgery”

The Faint Is Not A Feint

, , , , , | Healthy | April 24, 2019

(My adult daughter has multiple medical issues, including vasovagal syncope — she faints — triggered by several things, including vomiting and even small blood draws. I am with her for support and as her driver in case of problems when she goes to get a routine blood draw that requires multiple vials. Due to insurance issues, she is going to an unfamiliar lab and has called in advance to verify that there is a bed available for her to lie down for the draw, as it’s the only way to prevent an event. She is called by the phlebotomist.)

Phlebotomist: “Please have a seat here in this chair and we’ll get started.”

Daughter: “I need to lie down or I’ll faint. I was told you had a bed available?”

Phlebotomist: “Oh, was that you who called? Please just sit down. I draw blood every day, all day, and I’ve never heard of such a problem.”

(It’s actually fairly common.)

Daughter: “I have vasovagal syncope triggered by having my blood drawn. I’d rather lie down so I don’t end up on the floor.”

Phlebotomist: “There isn’t a bed available. Now, you’re holding up the process as there are several others also waiting to have their blood drawn. We’ll just have to deal with it if it happens, which I know for a fact it won’t. I’m very good at my job.”

Daughter: “I’d rather wait for a bed. How long will it be?”

Phlebotomist: “We don’t have any beds in the lab. We’d have to go to the doctor’s office next door, and I’m not going to do that. These chairs recline a bit; I’ll put it back and you’ll be fine. Now, are you going to get the blood drawn or not?”

Daughter: *not wanting to make a scene and needing to have the procedure completed* “Okay, but I warned you; you can’t say I didn’t.” *and to me* “Mom, please come in and be ready to catch me.”

(The phlebotomist prepares my daughters arm for the draw, commenting about how she’s never seen anyone actually faint from a simple blood draw, and what a wuss my daughter is for having to have her mother present for the procedure. When she inserts the needle and starts to draw the blood, my daughter’s eyes roll back and she starts to slide out of the chair.)

Phlebotomist: “What’s happening?! Wake up, wake up! You can’t do this to me! Please, Mom, hold her up while I finish!”

(So much for not keeping the others waiting. She was out cold on the floor for several minutes, and it was over half an hour before she could stand to even get into a wheelchair to leave the room. They’ve since installed a fully reclining chair in the lab, and the phlebotomist learned a valuable lesson about listening to the clients. Also, my daughter will now not allow anyone to draw her blood unless she is fully lying down and will not take “no” for an answer.)

Common Sense Takes A Vacation

, , , | Right | April 23, 2019

(I’ve just called a patient to advise him that he missed his monthly appointment, to let him know he will still be charged, and possibly to rebook for him, too.)

Patient: “Why am I being charged for this?! I wasn’t even in the country!”

Me: “I’m sorry sir, but there’s a 24-hour cancellation policy.”

Patient: “Well, that’s stupid! You should have known I was on holidays and cancelled the appointment for me!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but did you let someone here know? If you did and it wasn’t cancelled for you, I might be able to—“

Patient: “No?! Why would I do that?!”

College Doesn’t Cause Less Anxiety, Trust Us!

, , , , , | Healthy | April 22, 2019

(I was diagnosed with a general anxiety disorder and panic disorder at nineteen, and have been on anti-anxiety medications since. Sometimes, they stop being as effective, or the side effects become worse, and I need to return to a doctor to change my prescription. This was never an issue before, as my dosage is low and I don’t require strong or addictive medication. However, after moving, I go to see a new doctor. The clinic has gotten all my medical records from my previous one, and I have filled out the forms, detailing my conditions. The doctor is a general practitioner, is male and middle-aged, and immediately seems to be only paying half-attention. I am a twenty-five-year-old female.)

Doctor: “Now, why is someone like you on anxiety medication?”

Me: *confused* “Because I have an anxiety and panic disorder. I was diagnosed years ago, as it says in my file.”

Doctor: “Have you ever tried losing weight?”

Me: “Uh, yes. I’ve been on diets since I was five. I do eat healthy, and I walk a mile almost daily–“

Doctor: “And you’re not working.”

Me: *having no idea what this has to do with anything* “No, not yet. I just moved states with my family.”

Doctor: “So, you plan on working? Or are you going to school?”

(I have absolutely no idea where this conversation is going, or why he’s suddenly asking about my life. In the back of my head, I’m hoping he’s trying to figure out what medication to put me on if I’m entering a more stressful situation.)

Me: “No, I’m not planning on going to college, and I’ve started looking for a job–“

Doctor: *cutting me off in a grandfatherly, scolding tone* “Now, why aren’t you planning on going to college? There are lots of good colleges around here.” *starts naming off colleges*

(I am getting increasingly embarrassed and flustered. I attended one year of community college, but my health had taken such a terrible turn from the constant stress and panic attacks I nearly ended up in the hospital. I didn’t continue.)

Me: “I’m… not really interested in going back to college, sir. Can we get back to my–“

Doctor: *dismissively* “Now, now, I’ve got a granddaughter your age; I know what I’m talking about. You don’t need more pills. What you need is to get your degree, lose weight, and find a good man to marry. You’re anxious because your life isn’t heading anywhere! I’ll put you on [medication] for now, but when you come back, I expect you to be enrolled somewhere, you hear?” *winking at me* “Doctor’s orders.”

(I was so bewildered and humiliated I just wanted to get out of the office. I took my prescription and never returned to his office again. I’ve had doctors be unprofessional before, but I’ve never had one lecture me on how going to college would magically cure my mental illness!)

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