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Thought He Was About To Cash In

, , , , | Right | April 6, 2023

After an incident with the underwater Internet cables running to our state, a large amount of the island has no Internet connection. This means most EFTPOS machines aren’t working, either. My service station got lucky and is completely unaffected; everything is working fine.

A customer pulls up and looks at me excitedly.

Customer: “I’ve got cash!”

Me: “We’ve got working EFTPOS machines!”

Turns out he always carries cash just in case and was excited to be proven right today! I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so disappointed that they could pay by card.

Pregnancy Is A Hard Journey, But It Doesn’t Have To Be Like This!

, , , , , , , , , , | Healthy | November 14, 2022

CONTENT WARNING: Suicide Mention. May also be triggering to those who’ve lost pregnancies.

This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.


I am living in another state to study while my husband is living in our home state to continue working. He comes to my college to visit me, and we are grateful and happy to find out a few weeks later that we are expecting a baby.

At first, we plan that I will finish my course as I only have two months to go before moving back to our home state, but when I’m around six weeks pregnant, I end up with such severe morning sickness that I am vomiting up everything in my stomach every thirty minutes to an hour, even water.

After around ten days of this, I call the national health service line, and they recommend that I go to the hospital for fluids. The closest hospital is in the rural town I’m studying in and only consists of an emergency department and basic care. My college principal’s wife accompanies me to the hospital as I am in no condition to drive and am very nervous about getting needles.

From the start, we have problems. The nurses think I’m just a young mum who didn’t realise women get sick when pregnant. They avoid me and roll their eyes when in the room. They don’t call in the doctor (who is on call in a small hospital on the weekend) until one of the nurses realises I haven’t kept down the 500ml of water I’ve tried to drink over the last three days.

When the doctor arrives, he ignores me and only addresses the principal’s wife, believing she is my mother, even though I’m twenty-four. He begins asking me about my medical history.

Doctor: “Do you have any preexisting medical conditions?”

Me: “Yes, I have depression, anxiety, OCD, and PTSD. I’m on [medication] for it, but I’ve been throwing it up after I take it.”

Doctor: “You know that everyone has depression at some point in their lives, right? You don’t have to declare it.”

Me: “My first suicide attempt was when I was twelve years old.”

Doctor: “Oh, I guess that is a more severe case.”

Eventually, he decides I should have IV fluids and they put me on a three-hour drip. During this time, a new nurse comes in who is very kind. She realises something could actually be more severe than “a bit of morning sickness” and urges me to come back if I continue to be as sick as I am.

A week later, I am still very sick and find myself in the same situation requiring fluids, so I return. This time, I am helped by yet another nurse, who is worse than all the others combined. She does not call the doctor at all and speaks down to me, barely listening to my answers and concerns.

Nurse #2: “Make sure you only eat very plain food; anything spicy or fatty can make you feel more nauseous.”

Me: “I’ve only been eating plain water crackers and milk arrowroot biscuits. Even when I don’t eat, I find my body trying to vomit even though I have nothing in my stomach.”

Nurse #2: “Well, if you eat anything heavy, you will feel worse. And only drink water. You can try ginger tea, too; that helps some women.”

Me: “I’ve tried ginger. It made me even worse. I can’t stomach anything, not even water.”

Nurse #2: “Well, if you stop eating fatty food, you won’t vomit, so we won’t be calling the doctor or giving you any IV fluids. We will give you an injection to reduce the vomiting from what you’ve already eaten, and you can go home.”

I’m so tired and exhausted from vomiting that I don’t argue. I’m just thankful for some medication to stop my vomiting. She says she will inject it into my buttocks, but she misses and injects it into my side in a very painful spot. I end up feeling terrible pain for a week and can’t even touch the area without gasping in pain.

A few days later, my husband and I decide it’s best I move back home as I cannot study in my condition. I book the next flight home.

The day after arriving in my home state, my husband takes me to the chemist to buy more vomit bags. While we’re in line, a staff member notices me pale and shaking in the line and pulls me to the side to ring me up away from the other customers.

Cashier: “You must have a terrible bug; you are so pale.”

Me: “No, just pregnant. Morning sickness sucks.”

The cashier stops and studies me for a moment before pulling me over to a desk with a blood pressure monitor and taking my pulse. She then walks away and makes a phone call and returns with a very serious tone in her voice.

Cashier: “I’m not usually a cashier here. I’m a midwife, and I’m here for a specific program for new mothers to come in and have checkups and ask questions, but it’s quiet so I thought I would help the staff. Now, you are severely dehydrated. You need to go to the hospital now for fluids. I have called [Nearest Large Hospital] and they are expecting you.”

At first, I objected, because of the way I had been treated at the last hospital. I had begun to assume that I was just unable to cope with the standard sickness that comes with pregnancy, but my husband urged me to take her advice, and we go to the hospital.

Nearly as soon as we arrived, we were taken through to a room where IV fluids were waiting and a nurse brought in [Medication #2]. They advised me that the medication [Nurse #2] had injected into my hip is actually considered dangerous for pregnant women and that studies have shown that it causes deformities in animal foetuses.

A doctor diagnosed me with a condition called Hyperemesis Gravidarum, which causes severe vomiting for the full duration of pregnancy. [Medication #2] worked excellently, and I ended up having to take it three times a day right up until my healthy — and hydrated — baby boy was born.

That’s Going To Be A Big Dirty NEIGH To That Return

, , , , , | Right | July 26, 2021

A customer comes in with a small digital thermometer, the kind that generally goes under the armpit or in your mouth. As such, they’re designed to be resistant to fluids, although they’re not entirely waterproof because, hey, they are cheap.

Customer: “I bought this a few days ago and took a couple of readings, and now it’s stopped working. I think maybe it’s the battery. Can I have a refund or an exchange?”

Coworker: “Let’s have a look and see if we can change the battery first.”

My coworker opens the battery case of the thermometer and finds it rather brown inside. As she’s new and unsure of what to do, she asks my opinion.

I take note of the brown and then notice that the outside of the thermometer is damp.

Me: “It looks wet. Could it be water damage?”

My coworker tilts the thermometer to try to see the battery better, and suddenly, about two teaspoons of very brown, very murky water run out of the battery compartment and onto our bench.

Customer: “Oh, no, it’s not water damage. I mean, I did wash it, but it was broken before that. I used it on my horse because he’s sick and I didn’t think you’d want to handle it unless I washed it first.”

Yep. We now had horse poo water on our bench and on my coworker’s hands. From the condition of the battery compartment, I strongly suspect that this may not have been the first time the customer had washed the thermometer.

Despite my misgivings, my manager gave the customer the exchange anyway. My coworker disposed of the used thermometer and scrubbed the bench and her hands very thoroughly.

Ah, the joys of working retail.

She’s Not The Sharpest Item In The Luggage

, , , , , | Right | March 26, 2021


I work as a security guard, screening passengers at the airport.

A lady is pulled over for a bag check because a knife is seen on the X-ray of her carry-on luggage. The knife in question turns out to be a pâté knife. For those readers who are unaccustomed to fine food, there are two kinds of pâté knife: a blunt one and one with a sharpened edge for slicing cold meats.

I pull the knife out of her bag, and guess which type it is?

Me: “Sorry, ma’am, but this is sharp so you can’t take it.”

Passenger: “It’s not sharp!”

Me: “No, it’s definitely sharp, so you can’t take it, sorry.”

At this point, like lightning, the lady reaches over the counter and snatches the knife.

Passenger: “IT’S! NOT! SHAAARP!”

She punctuated each screamed word by slashing at her wrist with the knife. On the third stroke, she sliced her wrist deeply.

The knife was confiscated.

I’m certain that she’ll have a nice scar to remind her to behave better in future, especially since she refused any treatment, opting instead for a wad of paper towel which quickly got soaked.

So Much For Smooth Sailing

, , , , | Friendly | February 8, 2021

I’m sailing with my dad and his friend on his friend’s boat. We’ve spent the night on his boat in a nice little bay and are now sailing back up the channel toward where he docks the boat. I’m at the helm and he’s telling us entertaining stories from when Hobart was a penal colony. We’re currently sailing directly toward a beach.

Me: “So… are we going to turn around soon?”

Friend: “Wait… what? This isn’t right. Where’s the channel?!”

He disappears below deck to check the GPS while I wait anxiously. He comes back up laughing.

Friend: “So, you know how I told you I don’t need the GPS to navigate the channel because I know it like the back of my hand? Yeah, I got too cocky.”

Turns out there are two islands in the channel: one parallel to it and one perpendicular to it. Both have the exact same profile, and we came in at just the right angle for him to confuse the perpendicular island for the parallel one and throw us wildly off course. Dad still mocks his friend for the mistake.