The Checkout Has Totally Checked Out

, , , , , , | Working | May 1, 2018

(I put two items on the bench at my local supermarket. The young man at the cash register rings it up and asks me to put my card in the reader. At that point, I realised he’s only rung up one of the two items.)

Me: “Aren’t you going to ring up the cheese, too?”

Cashier: *stares vacantly*

Me: “You’ve only rung up the orange juice.”

Cashier: “Oh. Yeah… Thanks.” *cancels and re-does the transaction* “Oh, well… It’s Monday, eh?”

Me: “No, actually, it’s Tuesday.”

Cashier: “Really? Huh…” *stares*

Some Patients Can Be An Arm-ful

, , , , , , | Healthy | April 5, 2018

(My mum told me about this, as I have little memory of it. I had a fall a few weeks ago where I dislocated and fractured my ankle, broke the leg, and tore the ligament. Now, I’m in hospital for day surgery in which I’ve had some pins removed from my ankle. I get wheeled into recovery. My mum and her best friend are waiting next to my bed while I wake up properly. The nurses are doing vitals checks every 10 to 15 minutes. At this stage, I’m facing mum and her friend, and I’m still fairly groggy, so this intrusion of my sleep is starting to annoy me.)

Nurse: “Hello again. Sorry to wake you, but can I get your arm please, [My Name]?”

Me: “Ugh, fiiiiine.”

(The nurse checks my blood pressure.)

Nurse: “All righty, all done.”

(The next time the nurse starts to come over, my mum tells me:)

Mum: “Love, the nurse is coming over.”

Me: “Please excuse my back.” *turns over as the nurse approaches and raises my arm up* “Just take the arm.”

Nurse: “I’m sorry, what?”

Me: “Take my arm back with you to do checks so I can sleep.”

(My mum, her friend, and the nurse laugh.)

Nurse: “I’m sorry, hun; I can’t do that. We’d end up with so many arms at the nurses’ station, it would become inconvenient for everyone, especially those who the arms belong to.”

(I was discharged a couple hours later. I know checking vitals is very important, but at the time sleep was way more important.)

Tubular Yells

, , , , , | Learning | April 3, 2018

(We have two teachers for a human biology lab class, and each week they alternate who takes the class. One of them is great; the other has a habit of melting my brain immediately. Today we are looking at bones and identifying their features and differences between species. I’m looking at a pelvis when:)

Me: “Excuse me, but I’ve totally forgotten what the ischial tuberosity is; could you tell me?”

Teacher: “Well, when you can’t remember, think of the word.”

Me: “That’s the thing; I’ve totally blanked on this one. Could you let me know so I can continue?”

Teacher: “Break down the word. What does ischial relate to?”

Me: “Honestly, I’ve totally forgotten. I would say it’s part of or near the ischium, but I can’t remember where that is on here.”

Teacher: “Yes, related to ischium. And tuberosity? What does that mean?”

Me: “I don’t know.”

Teacher: “Think about it. What does it mean?”

Classmate: “I think she’s asking you because she doesn’t know, [Teacher].”

Teacher: “You’ll get it. What’s the word mean?”

Me: “I don’t know; that’s why I asked. My notes are in my bag, which you had us put away for this, and I’ve blanked on it, so I asked you. Can you please tell me, so I can move on with this?”

Teacher: “Tuberosity is to do with the shape: like tubules. You remember tubules in other areas?”

Me: “Yes, that makes sense, but I still don’t know–”

Teacher: “So, you know what it is now, because you broke the words down to their meanings.”

Me: “No. I don’t know which part of the bone is called the ischial tuberosity, which is why I asked.”

Teacher: “Well, you do know; you just need to be more confident.” *walks away*

(Another classmate ended up knowing it and shared with me, but how hard is it to just answer a straightforward question? Sadly, this is far from the first merry-go-round of simple questions. I fear for my marks.)

Literally Refuses Your Rhetoric

, , , , , | Related | March 15, 2018

(I’m wistfully watching my five-year-old play with his eleven-month-old brother.)

Me: *out loud to myself* “How did I end up with such wonderful kids?”

Husband: *sitting nearby* “Unprotected sex.”

Me: “That philosophical question was more rhetorical in nature.”

Husband: “I still stand by my literal answer.”

Work Experience Can Shape Generations

, , , , | Friendly | March 3, 2018

(I’m in my local library on the computers searching for a book, when I hear a child yell suddenly and feel someone tug at the back of my shirt.)

Boy: “HEY, LADY!”

(I turn around to see a little boy I worked with at his preschool while doing work experience.)

Boy: “I know you. You were a teacher at my school. You were teaching with Mrs. [Teacher].” *turns to dad* “Dad! Dad, this is Miss [My Name]; she was at my school.”

(The dad and I nod to each other.)

Me: “Hi there, [Boy]. I sure was! I had lots of fun with you guys, too. Want to know something pretty cool?” *the boy nods* “Your teacher, Mrs. [Teacher], was my teacher when I was little.”

(His eyes go really wide.)

Boy: “Wow, you’re really old!”

(His dad laughed and told him they had to go. I guess 16 is really old to a four-year-old.)

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