I’m a generally agreeable person but I can tell you that hospital visits generally put people a bit on their bad side. I’m actually amazed at the patience of the nurses and other personnel. I’m writing this during my second trip to the hospital via ER in three weeks.

The first time, I called 911 at 1:00 AM and then called my daughter to lock up my house and take care of my dog. The last thing I remember was blacking out in the ambulance. I was given Propofol, a sedative, and only remember some brief discussion and cutting off my shirt.

I woke about thirty-six hours later, a little disoriented, of course. I had pneumonia. A nurse gave some instructions. Then, a short bit later, another nurse came in to do something… nursey… and then she looked over why I’m there.

Nurse #1: “Oh, you’re the guy!”

Me: “I’m what guy?”

Nurse #1: “Well, I heard there was someone on this side of the ICU that ripped out of his restraints and removed his own breathing tube. Nobody’s ever done that before.”

Me: “I did?”

Nurse #1: “Yes. Apparently, you were ranting about being kidnapped. A doctor talked you down and you passed out again.”

A few days later, I did notice bruises on my hands that had to be caused by my Hulk routine. Over the next few days, though, I found nurses coming to my room and lingering. This seemed strange to me. Then, some nurse trainee (who was probably older than eighteen but looked sixteen or seventeen) was introduced to me. The other nurse left but she stuck around. We made a little small talk, and then I paused so she had the chance to go do her duties.

Trainee: “Can I stay here?”

Me: “Well, I guess. Don’t you have things to do?”

Trainee: “No. They don’t really give me much to do. I’m bored. Can I stay and talk?”

I figured, “Why not?” We chatted a while until she realized she couldn’t stay much longer. She bounced out of the room and down the hallway with a happy goodbye and more energy than I think I could ever muster in my entire life. Next day, one of the senior nurses was in my room and clearly not leaving and talking to me about… whatever.

Me: “Is it slow today?”

Nurse #2: “Yeah, it’s a bit slower than normal for some reason.”

Me: *After a pause* “Are you hiding?”

Nurse #2: *Blushing slightly* “Yes.”

Hospital visit number two, my daughter took me herself through the ER. My breathing capacity was probably a sixth of normal and I was suffering. But I simply cannot let go of my sense of humor.

Nurse #3: *Cheerfully* “How are you tonight?”

Me: “Is that the best question to ask someone in the E.R?”

Nurse #3: “Well, since you put it that way, I guess not.”

Me: “You realize I’m teasing you? It’s a good question. But to answer it properly, I can barely breathe. Otherwise, most of the rest of me is intact.”

I got my comeuppance. The next morning, a nurse come to do something else nursey. Everyone was in masks, so I didn’t recognize her at first.

Nurse #3: “Hi. I’d ask how you’re doing, but someone last night told me I shouldn’t do that.”

When I realized who it was I blushed and laughed. I should mention that the staff at the hospital are all remarkably friendly and wonderful.

Finally, today, I was talking with my nurse. It’s clear I only need one more night here to work with a CPAP machine.

Me: “I think I’m being released tomorrow.”

Nurse #4: “I hope not. I hope you’re here through Monday.”

I was thinking to myself, “Does he really think I need that much treatment? Do they want more money?” So, I just asked:

Me: “Why is that?”

Nurse #4: “You’re an easy patient.”

At that point, through the walls, we heard the terrible wailing of another patient.

Me: “Great. So to get out of here earlier, I just have to be cranky?”

They are all great people… BUT I WANNA GO HOME!

I am working at the entrance of a hospital. My coworkers are sitting near our cart with supplies, and since there isn’t enough room, I’m sitting at a table just across the entryway from them. A patient comes down from a unit in rough shape, walking slowly, kind of hunched over and carrying a catheter bag. 

After being there for a few minutes:

Patient: “Do you guys have a [mumble] bag?”

Coworkers: “A what bag?”

Patient: “An emesis bag.”

My coworkers are silent.

Me: *Blurting out* “Like to throw up!”

They moved pretty quickly after that.

They quickly grabbed her a bag from the cart, and then she staggered outside. 

People who work in my position have a variety of backgrounds and don’t have to have training in medical terminology, especially since we do not provide any kind of patient care. I do have training in terminology, and I’m thankful I remembered what it meant! I’m also surprised the patient used the correct terminology! Hopefully, the patient recovers soon!

It was 7:30, and I’d dropped into my local pharmacy in order to grab a prescription on the way home. I went back to the pharmacy counter and saw a woman hovering around the counter, wearing a mask, so I did as I always do and stayed a safe distance back to wait. She turned to me, immediately, and I realized I was in for something interesting, as she immediately asked me if I was there for a vaccine. I simply replied that I was there to pick up a prescription, and I could tell from the way she turned from me that she was trying to find someone to complain to. Her attitude radiated impatience and a little entitlement, so I was ready for fireworks.

After a moment, a man came around the corner and started talking to the woman; it turned out that he was her husband. He had been looking for something on the shelves and couldn’t find it but was going to check again since they were still waiting; she requested he stay at the counter because he was “better at talking” than she was. He told her to just call for him when the pharmacists got to them and headed back off to go find whatever it was he needed.

She then proceeded to start making “ugh” huffing noises, like she was scoffing at the wait already, but she did it so often there was hardly a second between her scoffing noises. It was like a mini-tantrum to herself. I don’t know how long they’d waited before I arrived, but I had only been there for maybe two minutes, and I’ve been to the pharmacy enough to know their wait times at the counter didn’t tend to be long if there wasn’t a line, so there was almost no way she’d been waiting more than a few minutes before I arrived, as the counter and back half were empty except for a car or two outside.

After another second, the head pharmacist/doctor in charge approached the counter to ask what they needed, and she called for her husband in a clipped tone before starting off anyway without waiting for him to get back to her. 

Woman: “We’re here for our boosters.” 

Doctor: *Not unkindly* “We don’t take walk-ins after 1:00 pm, and we don’t have appointments after 7:00.” 

He could tell they didn’t have an appointment without having to ask, considering the hour, and his tone was mostly confused and a little concerned, like maybe they’d managed to book an appointment anyway and he was about to have to deal with a massive system issue. He was clearly anticipating fallout, either way. The woman opened her mouth, and I could hear the complaint starting in her throat through the half-second of tone she got out.

Then, her husband cut her off, emphatically and in a volume and tone that were almost teacher-voice-like. 

Husband: “No. He is telling us what he can and cannot do.” 

He then turned to the pharmacist and, in a pleasant tone, asked again about walk-in times so he knew when best to come back. The pharmacist walked him through using the app to make an appointment and clarified what vaccine they needed the booster for. The husband seemed almost pointedly pleasant when he talked, like he was making a point to his wife about how you talk to people when you can’t get your way. She didn’t say anything else except to ask what vaccine they had because, apparently, another of the same pharmacy carried the other kind, and when they left, they left quietly and with no further tantrums.

I’m a dentist. Sometimes we can’t fix teeth without extractions. When that happens and there’s no other viable option, we make prosthetics for the patients — basically dentures. It’s never a perfect option, but in the vast majority of cases, the patients are happy with them after a necessary touch-up and around two weeks of wear to get accustomed to their new prosthetics. You absolutely NEED to bear the discomfort for those two weeks if you ever want to get used to them.

I have this conversation on a weekly basis.

A patient calls in two weeks after being given the dentures.

Patient: “Those dentures don’t fit me. I can’t eat/talk/do backflips with them, and they hurt.”

Me: “Pain is normal during the first few weeks; I’ll fix that for you. How long did you wear them for?”

Patient: “I could only handle three hours!”

Me: “Yeah, I might see why they don’t seem to work…”

We have a non-emergency centre in our city; anyone can walk up and be seen, but after a certain time, it isn’t fully staffed. Then, you have to call them first and they will confirm whether they can see you there or refer you to the nearby emergency centre at the hospital. Or, they just tell you to take it up with your general doctor.

There are no costs or waiting times, and it’s clear on the website and signs are plastered over the centre, yet people still don’t get it.

I call ahead and ask to come in. As I walk the path, a couple is having a conversation in hushed tones.

Woman: “You are not listening; they won’t see you.”

Man: “No, but when we get there, I will pretend to have chest pains. They can’t refuse to see me then!”

Woman: “Oh, good idea.”

I follow them to the door. The man immediately grabs his chest and staggers to a nearby bench, draping himself over it like a Renaissance painting. The woman presses the intercom.

Intercom: “Did you ring ahead?”

Woman: “No, but my husband is having chest pains.”

Intercom: “Is it bad? Is he having any problems breathing, confusion?”

Woman: “Well, yes, a little.”

Intercom: “Okay. I will call an ambulance. Stay there and someone will come out in a second.”

Woman: “No, no no, it’s not really that bad.”

Intercom: “No, is he having issues breathing?”

Woman: “Err, no. But his foot hurts. He dropped something on it earlier.”

Intercom: *Sighs* “If it is only his foot, he needs to call the number and they will assess him.”

Woman: “But his foot really does hurt.”

Intercom: “And if you ring the number, someone will talk it through with him.”

The woman says something quietly.

Intercom: “Call the number like everyone else has. There is a queue of people that need our help and you are stopping us from helping them.”

Woman: “He needs help! We are not leaving this spot.”

Intercom: “Call the number. They will diagnose you; it isn’t urgent so you can do that. If you refuse to move, you will be arrested.”

The woman went back to her husband, who miraculously stopped clutching his chest, and they walked off. He didn’t even have a limp.