CONTENT WARNING: Death, Prescription Drug Abuse

A person calls in a refill for Vicodin on the phone system (back before it was rescheduled and therefore refillable). I see there’s a recent fill of a different strength from a hospital. I try to call the patient back to see what’s up and they don’t answer.

I call the physician.

Me: “Based on what looks like a recent hospital discharge, I wanted to verify if you want the patient on 7.5 or 10 mg, since they’re calling in the old prescription but just got the new one.”

Physician: “You’re saying they called for a refill? It wasn’t an auto-refill? When?”

Me: “About thirty minutes ago.”

Physician: “…”

Me: “Hello?”

Physician: “The patient died this morning, a few hours ago. I was in attendance.”

Thirty minutes after that, the dead woman’s daughter showed up. She got belligerent when she was told it wouldn’t be ready… until told that she needed to get in contact with her mom’s physician.

I was trying to be sensitive just in case, but I didn’t get halfway through the first sentence before she turned and sprinted out.

Who learns their mom is dead and decides, “Let me score one last refill on her Vicodin!”, seriously?

The saddest part is that she was the dead woman’s caregiver and we ended up wondering how much end-of-life pain control the mom was actually getting.

CONTENT WARNING: Death, Home Break-In

I moved in with a relative of mine who had what doctors diagnosed as dementia. However, he was lucid enough that they didn’t feel a nursing home was a good fit quite yet. He insisted that he was okay to continue his volunteer job at a local animal shelter, as well as occasionally walking to a nearby park or fast food joint to get out of the house. We later found out that he got involved with some shady characters, though they seemed smart enough not to involve him in anything too serious.

[Relative] later passed away from natural causes. While we didn’t keep his death a secret, it was pretty easy to guess that a man in his late sixties had died when he stopped showing up to his regular haunts. However, it looked like not everyone had used common sense.

About two years after he passed, I get a knock on my door.

Me: “Can I help you?”

Guy: “Yeah, I’m looking for [Relative].”

Me: “Um, what for?”

Guy: “He, uh, owes me some money. I just wanna talk to him.”

I’m immediately suspicious. [Relative] had his own money and income, and we didn’t bug him too much about it, but even if he did decide to borrow money from a random guy from the street, two years is an awfully long time to wait to try and collect.

Me: “I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”

Guy: “No, it was [Relative]; he gave me this address. I’m not looking for trouble.”

I immediately reach into my pocket for my phone.

Me: “Actually, I’m confident you’re in the wrong spot. You need to leave.”

The guy starts to lean in close. I stand my ground but am definitely freaking out inside.

Guy: “No, I need to talk to [Relative] now. Go get him for me.”

I end up shutting the door in his face. He starts pounding on it, so I dial 911. I explain that there’s a shady-looking guy demanding to come into my house, and the operator assures me an officer is en route to handle it. I make sure the door is locked and deadbolted, and then I hide in the bathroom. Even from down the hall, I can hear the guy yelling and trying to break in.

I then hear sirens start coming closer. The guy stops pounding, and I hear him run off my porch. I’m not sure if the guy came alone, so I stay in the bathroom.

A while later, I hear a firm knocking on my front door. I come out, peek through the front window, and see an officer standing on my porch. I open the door.

Officer: “You’re the one that called 911?”

I explain what happened. I notice multiple police cars parked on the road. The officer nods as I talk and then looks back at the patrol cars.

Officer: “We found a guy running away from here. He said he was here to talk to [Relative]. Do you know who that is?”

Me: “Yes. [Relative] used to live here until he passed away a couple of years ago.”

Officer: “That definitely puts this guy in an interesting position.”

Another officer took my statement officially, and they arrested the man for an outstanding warrant. He later admitted that [Relative] hadn’t borrowed money at any point. He was just out of drugs and wanted to see if he could scare [Relative] out of some cash, but he had never gotten the memo that he’d died.

I ended up moving to a new house just in case someone else had missed that information.

CONTENT WARNING: Graphic Death Of An Animal

This story reminded me of one Christmas morning.

My mother was always keen to put food out for the wild birds in the area. We had a bird table and a few hangers for seeds and fat balls, and we’d also put out any bread crusts that we no longer wanted.

One Christmas morning, she put some food out for the birds as usual.

I didn’t get to see what happened next, as I was walking our dogs at the time, but my mum described it.

She was in the living room drying her hair in front of the large mirror and saw movement in the garden. When she turned and faced the patio doors, she saw a kestrel on the back fence, and it had caught (and was proceeding to eat) a woodpigeon.

Mum: “It was like it was eating red spaghetti. It was horrible to watch.”

Me: “Well, Mum, if your aim was to feed the birds, you’ve clearly succeeded!”

Related:
It’s Just Cats Being Cats, But Still… Yuck

CONTENT WARNING: Death

I’m twenty-six and I have just had my appendix out, but I am in the hospital for two weeks due to complications with the surgery. It’s the middle of the night, but I can’t sleep, so I’m reading a book by the light of my phone. I hear several members of staff entering the room whispering.

Nurse: “Here she is, the poor dear.”

Male Staff #1: “It’s okay; we’ll take care of her.”

Male Staff #2: “I’ll go to the top; you go to the bottom.”

I’m a bit confused about what’s happening until I hear movement and what can only be described as a lifeless body slapping down on a gurney. It suddenly hits me that the lady in the next bed passed away in her sleep. I’m horrified.

Nurse: “Thank you so much. We’ll sort the rest from here.”

I see the silhouette of the nurse walking toward my curtain and she starts to draw it back.

Nurse: “[My Name]! What are you still doing awake?”

Me: “I can’t sleep, so I was just reading.”

She comes to my bedside, sits down, and looks at my face.

Nurse: “Did you hear all that?”

Me: “Did that woman die?”

Nurse: “She did, darling. Are you okay?”

Me: “I was just talking to her a few hours ago. I didn’t know until I heard the noise of her being moved.”

Nurse: “I know, it’s very sad. She was a lovely woman. It must have freaked you out a bit to hear that noise, huh?”

Me: “One hundred percent! It was just the sound of dead weight.”

Nurse: “How about I make us both a cup of tea and we chat for a while since we’re both up?”

The nurse came back with two cups of tea and some biscuits and sat with me, chatting about this and that for a good forty-five minutes to calm me down. She periodically came back to check on me until I eventually fell asleep. She was still on shift when I woke up and I thanked her for staying with me to reassure me even though I’m a grown woman. Nurses run the world!

CONTENT WARNING: Death

A worker from a company who stays at our hotel comes down. He wants a key card to check his friend who didn’t show up to work today, won’t answer calls, and won’t answer the door. My manager on the phone tells me to bring the key card myself and come with. It’s late. I’m twenty-one and the only worker there.

I knock on the door a few times, yelling. After a minute, I open the door. Sadly, the guest has passed in the night.

I call my manager and coworkers, then the cops, who get there and confirm the situation. As the expired guest is rather large, they also call firefighters. EMTs and the coroner are also summoned.

I’m not asked much. They mainly talk to my manager and the guy’s friend. The police are there for hours, taking evidence. It takes six people a long time to get down the stairs. The guest has a dog in the room with him. Since the owner is dead, animal control shows up.  

Another guest comes up to me with a sneer on her face.

Guest: “Why is animal control here? Did someone hurt a poor dog?”

I’m not supposed to say anything.

Me: “I don’t know, ma’am.”

Guest: *Getting mad.* “I have a right to know by staying in this hotel! It’s public information!”

Me: “I really can’t say, ma’am.”

Guest: “Give me your name so I can report you to your manager and then your manager’s manager! This is the worst I’ve ever been treated at a hotel.”

She then goes over to bother cops and animal control herself and then storms back.

Guest: “Animal control told me more than you out of the kindness of their hearts.”

She finds my manager and somehow p***es her off so much that my manager says:

Manager: “I will give you your money back if you leave the hotel right now.”

The guest agrees. I process the refund and give her the receipt.

Guest: “How am I supposed to know I’ll get my money back?”

Me: “It says on the receipt.”

Guest: “That proves nothing! I want to know when your owner will be here next!”

Me: “He’s out of town for the next few days.”

She keeps demanding, so I have to drag my manager away from the grieving man and police to deal with her. She writes all our names down to report us to “the regional manager” and walks out scoffing, howling about how rude we all are.

I watch six people carry the body down the stairs in a bag and wonder how some people can be so entitled.