Can’t Explain Why Her Head’s Full Of Hot Air

, , , , , | Friendly | June 19, 2019

(I have just moved into a three-bedroom house with two other people. I am sitting on the couch in the living room when I notice [Roommate], whom I met in college, just going up and down the stairs. She can be a little eclectic at times, so I don’t pay it any mind. Our other roommate is my sister.)

Sister: “Hey, [Roommate], are you okay?”

Roommate: *obviously confused* “I think we need to call the landlord now.”

Sister: “What’s wrong?”

Roommate: “The AC doesn’t work; it’s hotter upstairs than down here.”

Me: “The air isn’t on.”

Sister: “Yeah, and all the windows upstairs are closed, and you know, heat rises.” *shrugs*

(I don’t remember the specific field, but [Roommate] has a degree in a science field.)

Roommate: “No, it doesn’t. What did your parents teach you? That’s so dumb that you believe that.”

(My sister tried to reason with her, I went back to my book, and she walked away confused by how “dumb” we are.)

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General Ignorance Is Multiplying

, , , , , , , | Working | May 27, 2019

(I am checking out at a local grocery store. If you shop using reusable bags at this particular store, you get $0.03 off for each bag you use. The cashier has just finished ringing me up.)

Cashier: “Okay, how many reusable bags did you use today, sir?”

Me: “Nine.”

(She turns to her register and pauses for a moment, as if she is confused.)

Me: “The discount should be $0.27.”

(She looks at her register again, and then calls over a passing coworker.)

Cashier: “Hey, [Coworker], what’s nine times $0.03?”

Coworker: “$0.27.”

Cashier: “You sure?”

Me: “I’m pretty sure he’s right. The discount should be $0.27, like we both told you.”

(She gave me a skeptical look but proceeded to apply the discount regardless. It boggles my mind to think about how people are able to get jobs that involve a lot of mathematics when they cannot even demonstrate elementary-level multiplication.)

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Unfiltered Story #151761

, , , | Unfiltered | May 24, 2019

I work as an interpreter, the following took place during a call I had to interpret for a big hospital….

Rep: I will be glad to assist you. What is the patient’s last name?
Caller: I had to travel from Spain to try and fix this problem, blah, blah, blah
Rep: Sir, In order to assist you, I need the patient’s last name
Caller: 1/1/11 Pendejo Flores
Rep: Now, can we help you?
Caller: I have been trying to make an appointment for my dad and no one returns the call and no one answers the phone and I had to travel 5,700 km and pay $1,800 for this ticket to try and make this appointment
Rep: Sir, which department does your father needs the appointment for?
Caller: Surgery?
Rep: What type of surgery?
Caller: I don’t know
Rep: Is it orthopedic surgery? You have called the orthopedics department
Caller: I don’t know
Rep: Your father was instructed to come back to this clinic as needed, I don’t see a surgery referral
Caller: OMG, what is wrong with you people?! Are you smoking or what? *starts to retell the story about traveling from Spain*
This *&^% went on for TWENTY THREE MINUTES until we had to transfer him to the number on his referral.

Unfiltered Story #151034

, , , | Unfiltered | May 17, 2019

(I am going through security at 4 am. I brought a bottle of water to drink during the car ride with the intention of throwing it out once I got to the airport. When I get through the scanner, I remember the water that wasn’t thrown out and notice that one of my bags has been pulled by an agent for further inspection.)

Me: “That’s my bag.”
Agent: “Oh, it’s yours?”
Me: “Yes, and it has a small bottle of water in it that I forgot to toss. That’s probably what set it off.”
Agent: *searches my bag, pulls out the water, rescans it and sends me on my way*
Me: “I can’t believe I did that.”

Insults Are Free!

, , , , , , | Healthy | May 8, 2019

I am a relatively new veterinarian. Often, we will get a case come in as ADR — Ain’t Doing Right — which is to say they are acting a bit off, but not always obvious what is wrong. I have an ADR older golden retriever come in with Mom and Son. They give the history: the dog has been losing weight, not eating well, lethargic, and having dark stools for a few weeks. This dog also has a history of ear problems. The last time we saw the dog was over two years ago. They have limited funds, so I try to work on a step-by-step diagnostic to try to get the most information before determining if more diagnostics are needed.

Starting with the physical exam: the dog is severely muscle wasted, lethargic — as they said — and dehydrated, and he has a new heart murmur. After discussing with Mom, we decide to start with bloodwork. It comes up with some very mild liver changes, but nothing too noteworthy. We are at the upper point of their budget, so I discuss my next recommendation of chest x-rays and what we would do depending on what we found, quoting them the costs for everything before anything is performed. They agree to the x-rays, and unfortunately, the x-rays show possible heart enlargement, but again nothing too exciting. So, they agree to try a heart medication, subcutaneous fluids, and an anti-emetic and see how the dog responds. It’s worth noting there were additional tests I would have liked to do, but I didn’t want to stretch their budget too much further.

A few days later, the dog isn’t improving on the heart meds, so I recommend an abdominal ultrasound — at a different vet — to better evaluate the gastrointestinal tract and surrounding organs. Unfortunately, the ultrasound looks like liver cancer, which I am very surprised by given how mild the blood work was.

I receive a request to contact the Father when I return to work the day after the ultrasound. I give him a call back, assuming he wants to discuss further treatment and prognosis. Boy, was I wrong.

Turns out he just wants to spend ten minutes telling me I am a crook, only in it for the money, and don’t care about animals. He continues to tell me that I took advantage of his wife and his upset son, and had them spend more money than they were willing. He rails that the dog was coming in for an ear infection, and I had them do a bunch of unnecessary tests. Any time I try to interject, either to explain my findings and recommendations as he wasn’t there, or to confirm what he thinks happened at the appointment, he simply talks over me, stating he doesn’t care what justifications I have and that “[he] is onto [my] game.” It continues until I am crying against the wall and finally have permission from the practice owner to hang up on him.

The fun part: he calls right back to have my receptionist tell me I am an a**hole. I still have to talk to his (much nicer) wife to answer her questions, and I almost can’t bring myself to do it. As of now, I refuse to discuss anything further with the Father.

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