Due to complications from a childhood injury, I have to get surgery on my left elbow to regain control and feeling of my left hand. I research all about the procedure beforehand so I am ready when getting prepped for surgery. I am a woman in my twenties, I’m married to another woman, and we live in a very religious area. We both have very feminine names.

A nurse is preparing my IV. She’s prepping my left elbow to put an IV in.

Me: “Soooo, before you put that in, I have a question. Wouldn’t an IV get in the way? Or be ineffective on that side?”

The nurse ignores me, pretending I didn’t say anything but in the way that it’s obvious that she did hear me. She uses the alcohol swab on my left inner elbow, but I block the needle with my right hand and stare at her.

Me: “I don’t consent to this. Get me someone with manners.”

The nurse says nothing but hits my right hand, like one would for a toddler reaching for the stove. I pull back my hand, and while my hand is moved, she quickly attempts to go for my arm with the needle, but I manage to use my clumsy and numb left hand to whack her in the face.

Nurse: *Screams* “THAT’S ASSAULT! I NEED HELP!”

I remain silent and stay as far against the back of the bed as I can. A couple of other medical staff members come in.

Physician’s Assistant: “What’s happened? Is everyone okay?”

Nurse: *Wailing dramatically* “SHE HIT ME!”

Physician’s Assistant: *To me, aggressively* “What do you have to say for yourself?!”

Me: “She assaulted me first, so I used self-defense. I do not consent to being jabbed at or going under anesthesia without having my simple question answered!”

The physician’s assistant suddenly changes his entire tone, realizing that I’m not being unreasonable.

Physician’s Assistant: “Well, what do you want to know?”

Me: “I want to know why the IV would be inserted into the elbow that’s being operated on.”

Physician’s Assistant: “It wouldn’t. It would be ineffective.”

Me: “Well, she was trying to do that, and she wouldn’t stop until I forced her away.”

Physician’s Assistant: *To the nurse* “Please leave. We don’t have time for your… problem.”

The nurse sulks and storms off. She tries to slam the door behind herself but the hydraulics stop the door from slamming.

Me: “Let me guess. She saw my spouse’s name on the contact information sheet?”

Physician’s Assistant: *Pauses* “I can’t confirm or deny that, but I can say that it wouldn’t surprise me.”

Me: “I’m not sure I’m comfortable having my procedure here anymore. How do I know she won’t murder me while I’m unconscious?”

The physician’s assistant clearly knows it’ll be huge legal trouble either way.

Physician’s Assistant: “Let me get back to you. Ten minutes.”

The physician’s assistant leaves and returns with a police officer and the rude nurse.

Officer: “Due to the assault and concerns for hate crimes, the administrator told me to remove [Nurse] from the property until you have left the property. Is this the right person?”

Me: “Yes, sir.”

Nurse: “Why aren’t you arresting her?! She hit me! In the face!”

Officer: *To the nurse, aggressively* “Did I ask for you to speak? Let’s go.”

He took her away, and I had the surgery. The nurse’s license was put on probation. I can use my left arm again!

This story is part of our Even-More-Highest-Voted-Stories-Of-2023-(so far!) roundup!

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I’m going to donate blood. For those that don’t know, this means getting dragged into a private room first for some testing to make sure I can donate and answering a whole lot of boring questions, most of which I’ve actually pre-answered on the app this time. However, they have one to ask that isn’t on the app.

Nurse: “And have you had a [contagious illness] vaccine?”

Me: “Yep, and the booster.”

Nurse: “And which vaccine did you get?”

Me: “It was… Oh, having a brain fart right now. Could you remind me the names of the vaccines?”

Nurse: “I can’t do that. You have to tell me.”

Me: “I was just asking for the names to jog my memory.”

Nurse: “If I tell you, then you could just lie and pick one of them when you didn’t really get the vaccine.”

For the record, I’ve had to jog my memory by asking for the names of the vaccines when donating blood at this exact same facility before and didn’t have any trouble with it.

Me: “Do you require a [contagious illness] vaccine to donate here?”

Nurse: “No, but I need to know what vaccine you got if you said you got one.”

Me: “But if I can donate blood without the vaccine, there is no incentive for me to lie about it.”

Nurse: “I need you to tell me a vaccine without my helping, or you can’t donate blood here.”

Me: “So, what? Do you want me to claim I got the [Company #1] one, even though I know that’s not the one I got, just to donate?”

This last question is asked in what I think is an obviously sarcastic tone, but she apparently doesn’t pick up on that.

Nurse: “Okay, fine. I’ll put that. We just need a name.”

Me: “But I didn’t get that one.”

Nurse: “It doesn’t really matter for an old vaccine.”

So, apparently, rather than my potentially lying when I have no incentive to do so, she would rather force me into an explicit known lie.

Once I was no longer distracted by how inane her request was, a little later, I remembered I had photos of my vaccination card on my phone, so I looked it up and tried telling [Nurse] that I actually got the [Company #2] vaccine, but she couldn’t be bothered to go back and correct the records that she had basically bullied me into falsifying.

[Nurse] also managed to stick me wrong when she drew blood — I could tell from the feeling — with what everyone agreed was a badly put-together bag. In her defense, though, I believe they grab already put-together bags, so she probably wasn’t the one to put it together wrong.

Then, [Nurse] told me that her shift was up and she was leaving and letting someone else handle the rest. Cue three separate people all huddled around me trying to figure out how to draw blood for the last tubes they collect for testing when, for whatever reason, they wouldn’t fill despite the main bag filling properly. Luckily, they called in an older man who was apparently their expert, and there wasn’t any real pain, just some pretty mild discomfort, as he fought with the needle to get the blood flowing. Suffice it to say, I was less than impressed with the first woman.

Despite my complaints, though, I really do recommend that everyone donate blood. I’ve been doing it like clockwork every two months for the last decade and a half, and this still ranks as one of my top five worst experiences, despite really not being that bad, so please don’t think you’re likely to have trouble if you donate.

My mother had a very long labor with my brother. It had started in the early morning, and it was now well past noon, but absolutely nothing was happening.

Mom: “Honey, you must be starving. Go grab some lunch from the cafeteria.”

Dad: “What? But what if I miss it?”

Nurse: “It’s okay. She’s not going to deliver in the half-hour or so that you’ll be in the cafeteria.”

Dad: “But what if she does?!”

It took almost ten minutes for my mother and the nurse to convince my father that everyone would be fine, he should go get lunch, and there was nothing to worry about, but he eventually let himself be convinced to go eat in the hospital cafeteria.

Not long after he left, the doctor came in to check on my mother and brother. During the check, they discovered that the umbilical cord was wrapped around my brother’s neck and his heartbeat was growing irregular. My mother was put under almost immediately for an emergency C-section. The nurses moving her were running, and she didn’t lose consciousness until they were almost to the operating room. Not long after, my brother was safely delivered with no injuries or further complications.

After being reassured that everything was fine and he wouldn’t miss anything while getting food, my father returned to discover that his wife was being stitched up and he had a new son.

We still joke about how he missed my brother’s birth because he went to get lunch.

I’m a nurse. We have a system at our hospital where big shift changes (multiple days) must be done a month in advance. Single days need just some days in advance. Also, we have a system for the holidays: one year, you work Christmas, and the next year, you work New Year’s Eve and New Year’s. As a young guy without kids, I mostly try to cover other people’s Christmases so I can have New Year’s off. We celebrate with close family on Christmas Eve, anyway.

This year, I had to work New Year’s and asked around if someone want to swap. One of my coworkers directly answered.

Coworker #1: “I’ll gladly work New Year’s for you if you’ll work Christmas for me!”

We talked to our charge nurse, and she gave the green light and changed the schedule. [Coworker #1] was happy she’d get to see her family after last year’s Christmas was in lockdown, and I was happy I’d get to get hammered on New Year’s Eve with my girlfriend and friends.

But then, today happened.

[Coworker #2] is okay at her job, although she complains when she can’t leave on the dot. I’ve never had any real problems with her; we just coexist. This happens during my break today.

Coworker #2: “Hey, [My Name].”

Me: “Oh, hi.”

I’m not really paying attention; I’m eating my soup and browsing on my phone.

Coworker #2: “Can I ask you something?”

Me: “Umm, sure.”

Coworker #2: “So, I saw you and [Coworker #1] swapped holidays.”

Me: “Yeah?”

Coworker #2: “Well, I thought you cancel it and cover my shift on Christmas.”

Me: “Umm… No.”

Coworker #2: “What? Why?! It’s the same for you! You have your New Year’s Eve off anyway.”

Me: “Well, yeah, maybe, but [Coworker #1] made plans with her family.”

Coworker #2: “Ugh, maybe, but I need Christmas off. I have kids and she doesn’t!”

Me: “Yeah, maybe, but she has plans, too.”

Coworker #2: “That’s not fair! I had no chance to ask you first!”

Me: “Yes, you did. I asked in our [Messaging App] work group.”

I show her the message in the group.

Me: “And sorry, it’s first come, first serve.”

Coworker #2: “Ugh, that’s so unfair! You both don’t have children, so Christmas isn’t that important to you! It’s a family holiday!”

Me: “Yeah… [Coworker #1] meets her family on Christmas; that’s why I swapped with her.”

I give her my own copyrighted “F*** you, sweetie” smile that I got from working in the soul-sucking snakepit that is my hospital.

Coworker #2: “Ugh!”

She then stomped off.

I just went back to my phone and continued to eat my onion soup (a mistake because onion breath and masks aren’t a good match).

[Coworker #1] told me that [Coworker #2] tried to talk her out of it, too, but she wouldn’t budge, either. [Coworker #2] then tried to talk to our charge nurse, but that was in vain. Our charge nurse is a work friend of mine, and we are both male nurses, so we have a secret but sacred bond to have each other’s backs.

[Coworker #2] is pissed because no one wants to swap, but that’s not my problem.

When I was born, my dad had the opportunity to give me a bath. I don’t know if it was my first or one of my first, but he was thrilled. He started washing me in the little tub they filled with warm water, being very gentle, when a nurse comes up behind him. 

Nurse: “No, no! You’re doing it all wrong!”

Dad: “Oh, shoot. How do I do it?”

She proceeded to elbow him aside and start washing me VERY aggressively. She was washing like she was scrubbing the bottom of a dirty pan.

Nurse: “See, like this!” 

She then set me back in his hands and walked away. He was a bit confused and went back to washing me, but he couldn’t bring himself to be that rough with his newborn child.

The nurse came by again, chastised him again, and washed me again. She gave me back, walked away, and didn’t come back.

I can’t imagine having the audacity to be annoyed with a new father for not wanting to give his newborn baby a noogie.