Sả là một gia vị được nhân ta dùng phổ biến, đồng thời cũng là một cây thuốc chữa bệnh và trừ côn trùng tốt.
Sả là loại cây thảo sống dai, cao khoảng 1m, mọc thành bụi (tên khoa học là Cymbopogon Citratus (L.) Pers.), thuộc họ lúa (Poaceae). Củ sả là một gia vị được dùng trong chế biến nhiều món ăn, chủ yếu là để kích thích tiêu hoá, khử được mùi tanh của cá, thịt, giúp thức ăn thêm thơm ngon.
Theo Đông y, sả vị the, mùi thơm, tính ấm, có tác dụng làm ra mồ hôi, thông tiểu tiện và tiêu thực. Sả được dùng chủ yếu làm thuốc chữa cảm sốt, đầy bụng, tiêu chảy...
Liều lượng mỗi ngày 8 - 12g lá và củ sả dưới dạng thuốc xông hay thuốc hăm. Phổ biến nhất là nồi nước xông lá sả phối hợp với một số lá khác như lá tre, lá cúc tần, lá bưởi, lá tía tô. cây ngăi cứu.. mỗi thứ một nắm, đem nấu nước xông cho ra mồ hôi để chữa cảm sốt, nhức đầu.
Tác dụng chính của sả là ở tinh dầu. Trong lá sả có tinh dầu, thành phần chủ yếu là geraniola và citronelola. V́ vậy, khi ta ṿ lá sả thấy có một mùi thơm đặc biệt phảng phất mùi thơm của chanh.
Tinh dầu sả bôi lên da hoặc phun trong nhà có thể xua đuổi được ruồi, muỗi và các loài côn trùng khác như dĩn, bọ chét... do đó thường được dùng làm thuốc trừ muỗi và khử mùi hôi.
Phụ nữ cũng thường nấu nước lá sả để gội đầu cho trơn tóc, sạch gầu và có thể tránh được một số bệnh về tóc.
Ngoài ra, củ sả và tinh dầu sả c̣n dùng để chữa một số bệnh thông thường như : Lấy 3 - 6 giọt tinh dầu sả pha với xi-rô và nước, cho bệnh nhân uống để chữa đau bụng, đầy bụng, chống nôn và thông trung tiện. hoặc thái cũ să đem ngâm rượu đễ dành khi đau bụng gió uống 1 li nhỏ
California, Children, Hospital, Pranks, Sons & Daughters, USA | Healthy | April 1, 2020
It is April Fool’s Day. I go into the hospital for a scheduled cesarean for my third child. Thanks to both a blood test and an ultrasound, we know we’re having a boy. The surgery starts, and it doesn’t go as expected.
Doctor: “Oh, wow, look at that!”
Surgical Tech: “Oh, my gosh.”
Me: “What?”
Doctor: “Okay, it’s a girl.”
Me & Husband: “What?”
Husband: “Did you say, ‘girl’?”
I just started laughing. And that’s how our daughter entered the world — by conning us into thinking she was going to be a boy, and revealing her true nature on April Fools Day. Well played, baby. Well played.
At Least The Names They Picked Had Letters In Them
California, Funny Names, Great Stuff, Pets & Animals, Silly, USA, Vet | Healthy | March 30, 2020
I work for a vet, and I’m checking in a new patient. She was adopted from a shelter about a year ago and is now due for her annual exam and vaccines. Her entire family comes with her: Mom, Dad, and three pre-teen or teen children.
Me: “The shelter paperwork says her name is Princess. Is that still her name?”
I get five very clear negative responses.
Me: “So, what is her new name?”
Simultaneously, each from a different person, I hear the names Molly, Fluffy, Annie, Coco, and Jessie. They then fall into a several-minute-long discussion of names where they actually end up adding at least three other options. I let them continue until an exam room is available and then lead them in and put the chart on the doctor’s ready pile. When the doctor grabs her chart, he gives me a look.
Me: “It’s the only thing they all agreed on.”
The doctor shrugs and walks into the room.
Doctor: “So, this is the dog formerly known as Princess?”
This Debt Collector Had Better Hope HE Has Insurance
Debt Collection, Employees, Ignoring & Inattentive, Insurance, Jerk, USA | Healthy | March 29, 2020
(I’m a broke college student supporting myself with student loans, whatever hours I can get at my work-study job, and the small amount of money my parents can spare. Luckily, I’m still on my parents’ insurance. When I get into a bad bike accident and have to get stitches and x-rays at the hospital, their insurance covers the bill. It’s been a couple of months since then when I answer a call from a number I don’t recognize.)
Caller: “Am I speaking to [My Name]?”
Me: “This is her.”
Caller: “My name is [Caller], and I’m calling on behalf of [Debt Collection Agency] about an unpaid medical bill.”
Me: “What? I didn’t think I had any unpaid bills.”
Caller: “The bill is [amount] for an ambulance ride on [date of the bike accident].”
Me: “But my insurance covered that!”
Caller: “Sometimes insurance doesn’t cover certain services, like ambulances, if they are seen as unnecessary.”
(The ambulance was definitely necessary since there was a suspicion at the time that I’d seriously injured my neck and I was bleeding profusely from my head.)
Caller: “The billing department attempted to contact you multiple times, but you’ve consistently ignored them. Now the bill has been sent to us, and it will negatively affect your credit. However, if you pay it right now, we can try to remove it from your credit report. How will you be paying today, [Card #1] or [Card #2]?”
Me: “Um, I won’t be paying today. I need to contact my insurance company to see what’s going on. This should have been covered, and I’ve never heard of it before today.”
Caller: “If you don’t pay today, your credit will be negatively affected. You will never be able to get a loan, a mortgage, or a credit card.”
Me: “I need to talk to my insurance company before I do anything.”
(He keeps trying to convince me, so I eventually just hang up. I contact my insurance company and find that no claim was ever submitted for the ambulance trip and that they would have covered it if it was. Then, I call the hospital billing department to figure this out. It takes a very long time to reach the right person, but I finally find out what happened.
In an amazing display of incompetence, someone had billed it to the wrong insurance company in the wrong state using the wrong contact details. Obviously, that claim was denied, so they sent the bill to whatever address they’d written on the claim. With this level of screwing up, I’m guessing they mixed up my file with someone else’s.
Luckily, the person I talk to is more helpful, and she gets all the information she needs to submit the claim to my real insurance. She also promises to take the whole incident off my credit report once everything’s done. However, it will take several weeks at the very least for the claim to go through. In the meantime, I get another call several days later from the same bill collector.)
Caller: *after making sure he’s speaking to me* “Our records indicate that you still haven’t paid your bill. What payment method–”
Me: *cutting him off before he can get too far into this* “I’ve contacted my insurance and the hospital’s billing department and gotten the whole thing sorted out. There was a billing mistake. Many, in fact. But the claim has been properly submitted to my insurance now. It just takes a while to go through.”
Caller: “Well, you still haven’t paid. It’s on your credit report. I can’t take it off at this point since you’ve refused to pay it once already, but paying today will make sure your credit doesn’t get even worse. How will you be paying today, [Card #1] or [Card #2]?”
Me: “As I said, my insurance is paying it. We just have to wait for the claim to go through.”
Caller: “But your credit–”
Me: “The billing department said they’d take it off my credit report completely, as they’re the ones who made the mistake.”
Caller: “I’m looking at your credit report right now, and it’s not looking good.”
Me: “The claim was only submitted a few days ago. It hasn’t gone through yet.”
Caller: “If you pay in full right now, this will go away immediately. No need to wait for the claim to go through.”
Me: “Hold on. You want me to pay for something that I never needed to pay for in the first place, just to speed things up? That’s ridiculous! And even if I was going to pay, it’s not like I have that kind of money just lying around.”
Caller: “Surely you have some jewelry or electronics you could sell. I can give you the address of a pawn shop nearby.”
Me: “What? No! I didn’t mean I intended to pay you. My insurance is paying it directly to the hospital. We all just have to be patient.”
(This went back and forth for a while. It became clear that he was working on commission and wouldn’t get any money if the bill was paid through the insurance company. Eventually, I just had to hang up on him again, since it was obvious he was not giving up. He continued to call me multiple times a day for weeks, sometimes during class. Finally, the claim went through, and the debt collector stopped calling.)
Doctor/Physician, Ignoring & Inattentive, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office, The Netherlands | Healthy | March 27, 2020
(I have had headaches all my life, but they suddenly become chronic, so I visit the doctor.)
Me: “I have a headache about five days of the week, and I have sleeping problems. I’m not sure which one is causing the other, though.”
(I proceed to give the doctor a list of things I’ve tried and checked, such as diet, climate, schedule, workout regimes, etc.)
Doctor: “I usually recommend a headache diary, but it seems you know pretty well what you’re doing. I suggest reading an hour before going to bed, instead of looking at a screen; that will help.”
Me: “No, that’s not it. I have gone screenless for three weeks but still had headaches. Also, reading before going to bed makes me have trouble falling asleep.”
Doctor: “Oh. Well, I still recommend reading an hour before bed instead of screen time.”
Me: “I am an avid reader, and I assure you that this is not the solution.”
(After going back and forth a few times…)
Doctor: “Well, I still recommend you try it.”
(She then proceeded to walk me to the door, indicating that the consultation was over. When I was back at home fuming, my husband suggested going to get my eyes checked. It turns out, I needed glasses! I could still see sharply, but the strain on my eyes caused the headaches. They were mostly strained by… reading. I’m glad I didn’t listen to the doctor, because more reading would have worsened the headaches. I have a new doctor now.)
Massachusetts, Medical Office, Nurses, Patients, Silly, USA | Healthy | March 25, 2020
(My immunization records for college are incomplete, so I need to get a couple of shots. I hate needles, but I can distract myself from the pain by chatting with the nurse. However, some shots are just more painful than others, and for this particular one I swear and go pale.)
Nurse: “All right, you’re all set! Are you feeling okay?”
Me: *sigh* “Yeah, I’m fine.”
(I pause.)
Me: “I mean…” *fake childish voice* “Wah! It hurts! I want a lolly!”
(I laugh. The nurse arches a brow.)
Nurse: “Do you actually want a lollipop? We’ve got some.”
Me: “What?! YES!”
(The nurse left and came back a minute later with a small bucket of lollipops. I picked a blue raspberry pop and proceeded to text several friends to brag about it.)
Fluffy’s More High-Maintenance Than Most Pets Of His Kind
Awesome Workers, California, Golden Years, Pets & Animals, USA, Vet | Healthy | March 23, 2020
(I work at the front desk at an animal clinic that is located on a street with many assisted living facilities. Most of them are not pet-friendly — they may have an office cat but residents can’t have personal pets — except for the largest of them which is right next door and pet-friendly.
We have a deal with the management of this facility where, whenever a new resident moves in with an animal, we set them up as a patient with us, the facility handles all their billing, we send care instructions to them to make sure the residents don’t forget the doses, and when making appointments we contact both the owner and the facility so they can make sure the owner doesn’t have something else scheduled that day and doesn’t forget their appointment.
For the humans who think they are more self-sufficient than they really are, we make sure someone from the facility is available and needs to take “important paperwork” over to the clinic at the same time the owner needs to leave, to make sure they get there and back safely. Sometimes they slip through alone, though, or decide they have an appointment when we don’t have them on the books, so we are used to having random elderly people coming in.
A clearly distraught elderly woman carrying a small dog carrier comes in one day.)
Woman: “Please, you have to help me!”
Me: “What can we do?”
Woman: “It’s Fluffy! He’s not acting right and I think I need to put him to sleep.” *sobs*
Me: “Oh, dear, we’ll get you and Fluffy in to see the doctor and take a look at him to decide if that is the best thing to do, okay? Now, what is your name so I can pull your chart?”
Woman: “It’s [Name I don’t have in my system].”
Me: “I can’t find you on the computer; have you been in before?”
Woman: “Oh, no, Fluffy and I just moved into our new apartment today and you are so much closer than his old doctor.”
(I figure she is so new the facility hasn’t had time to bring us her paperwork, so I get Fluffy’s age and breed and go about making a chart. We’ll get the rest of her information from the facility when we contact them. Thankfully, we’ve had a cancelation so I can get her into an exam room right away.
A while later, she comes out of the exam room with the doctor, with one of our techs carrying the carrier for her, much happier than when she came in.)
Woman: “And you really think it will cure him, Doctor?”
Doc: “If it doesn’t, you just have your doorman give me a call and we’ll get you back in, no charge. Now, I’m going to have my son carry Fluffy home for you. You have a good day.”
(The doctor is referring to our tech who isn’t actually his son, but that’s the code we use to let the front desk know the resident is not paying us directly and to just smile and say goodbye rather than following the normal checkout process. As soon as she and the tech are out of the building I turn to the doctor.)
Me: “So, we’re charging an exam and what else?”
Doctor: “Nothing.”
Me: “So, just the exam?”
Doctor: “No, Fluffy isn’t real.”
Me: “What?!”
Doctor: “He’s a stuffed toy; he’s just been laying around all day for weeks now. So, I told her we were going to try an experimental treatment, and if it works, that’s great, and if not, she can bring him in to be put to sleep later. Then, I drew up some air from an empty vial and injected it. She said he already looks perkier. Poor thing; she is really far gone.”
(Tech returned almost an hour later. The woman wasn’t from the facility next door, or even the one on the other side of them. She was from the one almost all the way down the block, and they had to check into all of them because she couldn’t recall which apartment building she lived in.
To their staff’s credit, they thought she had gone to get lunch with her daughter and her daughter thought her mom was taking a nap after an exhausting morning of moving in. Nobody knew Fluffy had been feeling bad, or that he was capable of feeling bad.
The experimental treatment worked great for a month, and then Fluffy relapsed and had to come in for another treatment. We gave him his shot once a month for three years, and then one day he just stopped coming in.
Six months later, the daughter brought him in; her mom had become too ill to take Fluffy for his shots so she had just taken him out of the building for a bit and then come back and told her mom he’d had his shot, and now her mom said she couldn’t take care of Fluffy anymore so could we find him a new home. We found him a nice place in the doctor’s office; he’s our supervisor.)
Doctor/Physician, Jerk, Non-Dialogue, USA | Healthy | March 22, 2020
I was born prematurely and at low birth weight. I was four pounds, five ounces at birth. I had none of the typical newborn baby fat; my cheeks were flat and my head was bulging, while the rest of me was skinny and angular. To be blunt, I looked like an alien. Other than that, however, I was perfectly healthy and was discharged a day later. My mother took me for my first doctor’s appointment to a well-known, established pediatrician in town, who was known for being rather coarse in mannerisms but otherwise knowledgeable.
He went through all the usual tasks of a newborn check-up including checking normal infant reflexes. One of them was the step reflex, in which a newborn appears to walk or step when they are held upright and their feet touch a flat surface. The doctor, for some reason, used his hand as the flat surface, and this procedure ended with him supporting my neck and back with one hand and my feet with the other. He looked at me, looked at my mother, and then mimed — with me — a jaunty little dance through the air. To my mother, he remarked, “Look, it’s E.T. riding a bike!”
He honestly couldn’t understand why my mother didn’t find that nearly as amusing as he did. Or why my mother found a new pediatrician.
And she gets annoyed when I point out that, in his defense, I did look like a tiny, baby alien dressed in doll’s clothes.
Crazy Requests, Pharmacy, USA, Vet | Healthy | March 19, 2020
(I work as a receptionist for a veterinary hospital. Earlier today, I gave a prescription to a client for a drug that is classified as Schedule II, which means it is considered as having high potential for abuse, so our facility is not licensed to carry it on-site. It can only be picked up from a human pharmacy. Thus, we write prescriptions instead of filling them ourselves at our on-site pharmacy. My first interaction with the client ends like this
Client: “So… what do I do with this?” *holds up prescription*
Me: “You take it to a pharmacy, just as you would with a prescription from your doctor. I would recommend calling around to see which places have it first before going anywhere because not all pharmacies can or do carry it.”
Client: “Can you call the pharmacies for me?” *stares expectantly*
Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t. There are dozens of pharmacies in the area, and I have no idea which places have this drug. And unfortunately, I have other clients waiting so I’m not able to set aside that kind of time.”
(She’s not happy with my answer, but she takes the prescription and leaves. Maybe an hour later, I get a call from her.)
Client: “So, can I use my insurance card to pick up the medication?”
Me: “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe that’s legal.”
Client: “But I’m getting the medication from a human pharmacy. Why can’t I use my insurance?”
Me: “Because the medication is for your dog, and the prescription is filled out to reflect that. The pharmacy will be aware it is for a dog, and your insurance only covers you. If you have pet insurance, that may or may not help cover it, but that depends on your plan.”
Client: “Well, I should be able to use it. It’s a pharmacy, not a vet. Why can’t I use it?”
Me: “I’m very sorry, but I’m not sure what else I can do for you. If you have further questions, I can ask the vet to speak with you.”
Awesome, Great Stuff, Hospital, Inspirational, Patients, Therapist, USA | Healthy | March 16, 2020
(I’m a physical therapist. My next patient is reportedly frail; she’s wheelchair-bound and doesn’t leave her bed.)
Patient: “Can you teach me to do a wheelie?”
(I couldn’t help but laugh. She ended up being a fairly healthy girl, albeit with less muscle tone due to her condition. The reason she hadn’t left her bed? The nurses had put a bed alarm on her — standard procedure for someone like her — and she hated moving with an IV.
I wasn’t allowed to teach her how to do a wheelie, but I was able to teach the basic concept. Get a friend to pull you back, practice balancing for a while, and then try it on your own. Shove the wheels, hard, and have someone catch you when you fly backward. I think she’ll be just fine.)
I am a musical theatre major, meaning that I spend the better part of my day in a ballet studio dancing or working out, and during what’s left of that day I’m either singing, acting, or both. After having an inherent heart condition fixed as a young teenager, I am proud to say that I am mostly healthy, a couple of minor-ish issues — as well as notorious unresponsiveness to most kinds of medication — aside.
About fifteen months ago, though, I get sick with something that is labelled “minor, superficial pneumonia” at first, and after sitting in my body for about two weeks turns into “asthmatic-spastic bronchitis.” Later, it becomes full-blown asthma bronchiale which, thanks to hyperreactive bronchia, I am very used to catching around twice a year. Usually, after a couple of weeks, it’s gone again, and my asthma falls asleep into insignificance once more.
Not this time.
The weeks come and go, and nothing happens. I’m fully incapable of doing anything at the conservatoire — but thankfully most of my professors are amazing and give me all the support they can possibly give me — and I’m getting more and more frustrated. My pulmonologist, after failing to succeed with several more antibiotics and cortisone therapies, is unwilling to give up on me and refers me to all possible colleagues. I get tested for pertussis, even for tuberculosis — and pretty much everything else — but they can’t find anything.
After just barely passing my semester with the worst possible acceptable grades, I go home for my semester break. By that time, this has gone on nearly two and a half months already. My pulmonologist tells me to continue my treatment, or rather, the search for a concrete diagnosis, as she is at her wit’s end.
I do, and they actually get the idea to do a bronchoscopy where, at last, they find not only a virus, but also bacteria that seem to cause all the trouble, sending me into a spiral of a constant asthma attack, which expresses itself with the symptoms of a chronic, constant bronchitis. They send me home with more antibiotics, telling me I can’t do much more but “sit it out and hope it’ll be gone in four to six months,” and put me on sick leave for my upcoming semester, since I can neither sing, dance, nor do anything on the acting front. I move back in at home with my most amazing, most supportive parents, and I begin my journey of doing not much of anything at all.
All throughout the time, I’m feeling flu-ish sick, with often insufferable headaches and horrible sore throats, short- as well as flat-breathed, and I obviously also cannot get rid of that cough. I have better days and worse, but the worse days definitely outweigh the good ones. Basically, I’m knocked out of my life entirely, and I often even have to think twice if I want to take a brief trip to town.
The months pass and nothing happens. There’s no improvement that lasts longer than two weeks and doesn’t follow a massive breach again. I lose another semester, as well as a fair share of friends. And, due to lack of movement, unsuccessful medication treatment, and, as I only just recently found out, my hypothyroidism acting up again, as well, I gain quite some weight; I’m not obese and still fit into most of my clothes, but you wouldn’t believe me the dance student, either.
I haven’t been idle over that time; I’ve been looking into common and alternative medicine and am in the middle of a doctor marathon, to not much avail except for the revelation of several more issues to work on, and about a month ago — as this has been going on for longer than a year already, and I’m beyond frustrated and only very desperately trying to scratch the final pieces of my patience together — I am referred to the pulmonologist department of my local hospital to finally treat my set-in-stone asthma diagnosis, as many doctors seem to purposefully ignore the bacterial aspect of my issues.
I have so many hopes for this appointment. But when I walk in, I see that, instead of [Doctor #2 ], who I am supposed to have the appointment with, I am met by a super young, and super overwhelmed-looking [Doctor #1 ].
I present him with all kinds of older to recent-ish but not super recent bloodwork and diagnoses and some very real proof that there are indeed physical issues to be resolved.
I explain, “…and this is why your colleague from the immunology department referred me over to you. It’s a rather pressing issue because my new semester is about to start, and I’d hate to miss the third one in a row. I really can’t do any dancing, singing, or much of anything at all, so I’m quite desperate about making progress. But unfortunately, I have issues with medication showing proper effect; it’s been like that since my heart issues way back as a child and starts with super simple things like common painkillers needing super high doses to start working.”
The doctor doesn’t even seem to listen properly. “Well, we couldn’t find anything physical in your test results…”
All they did was a basic lung function test, the results of which often fluctuate depending on my day.
I respond with confusion, “Um… But… I am officially diagnosed with asthma bronchiale already. Also, my lung function results fluctuate really badly, from unacceptable to–”
The doctor cuts me off. “There are no physical issues, and your lung function seems to be low but not concerningly so.”
“Well, as I explained before, it really fluctuates and–”
He interrupts again. “Well, this is definitely not a physical issue, and your lung function is–”
I cut him off this time. “But I really just said…”
[Doctor #1 ] ignores me and gets up to get [Doctor #2 ], who doesn’t even bother to sit down, and very clearly looks like she has no interest whatsoever in being here or helping me.
“Well, as my colleague already informed you, we cannot find any physical issues to work with, and clearly, you are not asthmatic.”
I sigh inwardly. “I really just explained to your colleague before that I have my official asthma diagnosis; I just need treatment for it, which is difficult because most kinds of medications have a really hard time to show any kind of effect besides the side effects, if they even work at all–“
[Doctor #2 ] says, interrupting me harshly, “If you were asthmatic, we would be able to treat you with cortisone inhalers, and those never showed any effect, so all you really have is a hyperresponsive larynx.”
I’m absolutely stunned at how they both have so successfully ignored anything I’ve said in the past couple of minutes. “But… as I said… and my lung function… I know it looks better now but it really, really depends on the day and… It’s really not only the cough; there are so many other issues that–”
Cut off again! “And your lung function isn’t that bad. I’ll just give you [super intense nervous system medication that is usually prescribed to epilepsy and severe anxiety patients, neither of which I even remotely suffer from] for your hyperreactive larynx. As for the fatigue, here’s a referral to outpatient rehab.”
[Doctor #2 ] gets up and leaves again without giving me the chance to say anything at all.
“It’s really not just the cough; it’s–“
[Doctor #1 ] proceeds to explain the effects of the just-prescribed medication without listening.
My mum, who had accompanied me, hasn’t had much of a word, either, so we just decide to give up on that lost cause and leave, both of us boiling inside. Not for one second do I consider having that prescription filled and taking this stuff, no matter how desperate I may be. Looking on the piece of paper, I was handed, I also find out that [Doctor #2 ] put “fatigue,” “chronic cough,” and “obesity” on my rehab prescription, which I am still livid about.
Later that day, I have a routine follow-up appointment with a new cardiologist, who not only is as appalled by this behaviour as we are, but also draws blood and reveals several very physical indeed issues, among them high inflammation signs, my hypothyroidism being at a not-dangerous-but-alarmingly-low level again, and the bacteria still being very, very present within my body. I’m referred to another pulmonologist immediately.
While I am, indeed, missing my third semester in a row, quite unsurprisingly, that new pulmonologist has not only found out that my lung function is currently at a new low point, but confirmed a “clearly asthmatic reaction and movement,” put that into the diagnosis, and promised to investigate if there is anything else behind it that I need to be treated for.
Fascinatingly enough, he has also listened to my medication issues and prescribed me two new inhalers that he’s hoping will help me as one of the 5% who actually do not react to common cortisone treatments.
Australia, Doctor/Physician, Lazy/Unhelpful, Medical Office | Healthy | March 13, 2020
(I am twelve weeks pregnant. I have already seen one doctor who left the medical practice and I am seeing a new doctor. He goes through my test results, which the previous doctor had already spoken to me about.)
Doctor: “It says here that these numbers are fine, but the other doctor had you on an iron supplement. You don’t need that.”
Me: “Are you sure? The other doctor was quite worried about my numbers.”
Doctor: “I’m sure. And you are taking antibiotics for a UTI, but you don’t have one.”
Me: “The other doctor said I had proteins in my urine which indicated a UTI.”
Doctor: “No, definitely not.”
Me: “Okay, I need a referral for a twelve-week scan.”
Doctor: “You don’t need that.”
Me: “My daughter had a congenital heart defect; I’d prefer to get all scans.”
Doctor: “The only reason they want to diagnose in the womb is to do surgery in the womb.”
My Husband: “They needed us at a bigger hospital when she was born, in order to give her surgery.”
Me: “Can you just write the referral, please?”
Doctor: “You don’t need it, but if you insist.”
(We left the office and quickly realised he had written a referral for a twenty-week scan which the ultrasound place can’t take. I organised an appointment with another doctor who also checked my blood. She immediately pointed out that I had a UTI an
California, Extra Stupid, Patients, Pharmacy, USA | Healthy | March 12, 2020
(I work in a community pharmacy. I cannot tell you how many times I have heard this story in some variation, as have my staff and coworkers in this field.)
Patient: *comes up to the counter* “Hi, I need to fill my medication.”
Clerk: “Oh, of course. Which medication did you need today?”
Patient: “I don’t know; it’s on my profile.”
(The clerk reviews the patient’s profile, which has more than 25 prescriptions dating back years.)
Clerk: “Do you know which one? There’s a bit of a list on your profile.”
(At this point, they will usually say one of two things
Patient: “I don’t know. Just fill all of them.”
(Or…)
Patient: “It’s the white pill.”
(This is where the clerk will grab one of the pharmacists.)
Pharmacist: “I’m sorry, sir, but we can’t just fill everything on your profile, as we don’t know which of these medications you take or have stopped taking.”
(Also, the staff hate having to fill a dozen or more prescriptions, only for the patient to say they need one or two of them; the rest we have to put back, wasting all the time and effort we needed to fill.)
Pharmacist: “Do you know what you take it for? Diabetes? Blood pressure?”
Patient: “I don’t know. It’s the white pill.”
Pharmacist: “Most of the pills on your profile are white. Do you know how many times you take it? Was it big or small? The first letter of the name or the doctor who wrote it?”
Patient: “How am I supposed to know?! You’re the pharmacist! You should know this! IT’S A WHITE PILL! I KNOW IT’S ON THE COMPUTER!”
Pharmacist: “Sir, I need a little more information to go on than just the color. Here’s our card; you can go home, find it, and then call it in. Or bring the bottle with you next time and we can help you more.”
(The patient stomped off. Seriously, if you come to the pharmacy, please know something about what you want to pick up. The vast majority of all the pills on the shelf are white.
Doctor/Physician, Hospital, Ignoring & Inattentive, Lazy/Unhelpful, Military, USA | Healthy | March 11, 2020
(Whenever I start coming down with any sort of respiratory infection, my voice gets deeper. The deeper the voice, the worse the illness is. I am stationed overseas in the nineties when a couple of coworkers notice that my voice is getting deeper. I go to Sick Call the next morning, and the corpsman, familiar with my history of pneumonia, sends me to the nearest US military hospital about 100 kilometers south to get seen by actual doctors.)
Doctor: “What brings you in today?”
Me: “I’m coming down with some sort of chest bug. Every time my voice gets deep, I get sick a few days later.”
Doctor: “What sort of symptoms are you having?”
Me: “At the moment, just the deep voice.”
Doctor: “That could mean anything. It’s probably acid reflux.”
(So far, the doctor has not examined me in any way.)
Me: “Whiskey Tango Foxtrot? Sir?”
Doctor: “I’ll prescribe you an antacid for a week or so. You should also prop up the head of your bed just a bit, to help control the reflux.”
Me: “First, I’m not here for acid reflux. I’m coming down with some sort of twitching awfuls, because my voice is getting deep. When I start sounding like James Earl Jones, I always get pneumonia or bronchitis or some other chest ailment within a couple of days. Every time. Since the deep voice just started being noticeable, I’m trying to get ahead of the disease. Second, I have a waterbed. Propping up the head of the bed will have no effect.”
Doctor: *frowning* “Sure, it will work. Just put a boot under the corners of your headboard. This will raise your upper body slightly and help prevent acid reflux from irritating your larynx.”
Me: *sighing internally* “With all due respect, sir, you cannot tilt water. It always stays level.”
Doctor: “Just raise your headboard a couple of inches. You’ll see.”
Me: *sighing out loud this time* “Sir, it’s a waterbed. Here’s a demonstration: run a little bit of water into that portable basin next to the sink.” *pointing at the small metal basin*
Doctor: “Okay.” *runs water into the basin*
Me: “Now, tilt the basin up on one end.”
Doctor: *lifts one end of the basin slightly*
Me: “Notice that the water stays level, no matter how high you raise either end of the basin? That’s why raising the head of my waterbed will be less than useless.”
Doctor: “Oh. I guess you’re right. I suppose we’ll have to get you an appointment with the gastroenterology clinic to cure your reflux.”
Me: *facepalm* “Sir, I don’t have reflux. Could you please listen to my chest?”
(I was given a prescription for antacid and told to go back to work, all without the doctor conducting an examination. Three days later, I was back in the hospital as an inpatient… with pneumonia.)
Art/Design, Coworkers, Health & Body, Retail, USA | Healthy | March 10, 2020
(I know my coworker and his wife pretty well — I went to their wedding — and they’re often in the store either helping with or participating in events when they aren’t working. They’ve finished both of their events this day and are going past the counter to leave, and they walk by me. I overhear their discussion, and they rope me in.)
Coworker: “It’s brown!”
Coworker’s Wife: “It is not! [My Name], what’s the color of my shirt?”
(Because she is wearing a BRIGHT RED JACKET, it’s pretty obvious what color the shirt is; however, if you just glanced at it, it might be misconstrued as brown.)
Me: “Uh, it’s green?”
Coworker: “Is it? But it’s brown!”
Me: *peering at it* “No, it’s green; it’s a dark green.”
Coworker’s Wife: “It’s emerald green.”
Coworker: “Well, it had better not be olive green, because that’s a color that doesn’t exist.”
Me: “But… What?”
Coworker’s Wife: “What color are [My Name]’s bracelets?”
(On my wrists are a paracord bracelet and a FitBit band, respectively.)
Coworker: “Well, I know that one is bright green and purple, and that one is… well, I dunno.”
Me: “[Coworker], it’s green. You’re colorblind.”
(I guess you learn something new every day — and this came as a bit of a shock to him, too!)
Australia, Funny Names, Hospital, Language & Words | Healthy | March 9, 2020
(I work on the switchboard for a major hospital. We take a lot of calls, have a lot of options to put callers to, and are, unfortunately, very used to callers giving us very little information so we have to guess the rest.)
Me: “Good afternoon, switchboard.”
Internal Caller: “Yeah, can I speak to Imogen?”
Me: “Imogen who?”
Internal Caller: “I don’t know.”
Me: “Uh, okay. Do you know what Imogen does or what department she works in?”
Internal Caller: “I don’t know; the doctor just wants a copy of an X-ray.”
Me: *light-bulb moment* “OH! You want to speak to imaging!”
Adorable Children, Doctor/Physician, Medical Office, USA | Healthy | March 8, 2020
(On the morning of my son’s two-year-old “well-child” checkup, he wakes up unusually grumpy. Shockingly, the news that he has to go to see the pediatrician does not improve his mood, so in an effort to get him to stop whining in the back of the car, I make an absolute rookie mistake. I promise him that after his appointment, I will take him on a trip to his favorite place. I then discover that I have the kind of two-year-old who neither understands nor accepts the concept of “after,” and as such, the following interaction happens at least six times in the next 45 minutes
Son: *wordlessly bawling at the top of his lungs*
Nurse: “Oh, no, what’s the matter?”
Son: “I WANT TO GO TO TARGET.”
Nurse: “Me, too, honey. Me, too.”
(At least he did not scream at the doctor. Instead, he gently wept and whispered, “Please. Target.”)
Criminal & Illegal, Medical Office, Optometrist/Optician, South Carolina, USA | Healthy | March 7, 2020
(I work with patients at an eye specialist, checking vision and administering eye drops. One day, one of my newer coworkers comes to me about a patient.)
Coworker: “He’s complaining about his eye being sore, but he’s asking way too many questions about [expensive temporary numbing agent for office use only].”
(I trust his judgment, so I ask another technician to casually restock something in the exam room where the patient is waiting for the doctor and take the numbing drop with him when he’s done. Not ten minutes later, when the doctor goes to see him…)
Patient: “Hey, Doc, why can’t you give me some more of those numbing drops?”
Doctor: “Because too much is toxic for your eyes. A patient stole a bottle years ago and used it non-stop for days; it really damaged their eye.”
Patient: “Good thing you said that, Doc, because I was planning on stealing that bottle!”
(He said this without any embarrassment whatsoever! I only hope he learned not to mess around with that sort of thing.)
Emergency Services, Liars/Scammers, New Jersey, Party, USA, Weather | Healthy | March 6, 2020
(I worked in volunteer emergency medical services for years. Without charge to anyone, a person would call 911, which would then send me and a crew with an ambulance to provide emergency medical care and transportation to the hospital. Unfortunately, our experience was that during a blizzard, some people would call 911 with a fake medical emergency and then decline transportation to the hospital. This was done because they had learned that a snowplow would be dispatched in front of our ambulance to make sure we had a clear route to the house in question. This way, the person would have their street plowed before others. The request of the woman in this story, however, blows my mind. We arrive at the location following the snowplow that is clearing 18 inches of snow on the road. I trudge up to the door and ring the bell. A young woman with an alcoholic drink in her hand answers. There is loud music playing. This is obviously a “blizzard party.”)
Me: “[Town] EMS, who is having the emergency?”
Woman: “Yes, that’s me. Um, I have diabetes.”
(I know that anyone with diabetes should not be drinking an alcoholic beverage.)
Me: “Okay, let’s sit down and check your blood sugar. Are you feeling badly?”
Woman: “Oh, no, I don’t need anything like that. I already checked my blood sugar. It’s [number that’s a bit high, but not an emergency]. I need my insulin from my house in [Next Town Over]. I was wondering if you’d drive me to get it?”
Me: “Ma’am, we are an ambulance for medical emergencies. We cannot transport you from one house to another. The policeman over here, however, most likely will.”
Woman: “Oh, that’s great. But, um, after I get my insulin, could he bring me back here to the party? I’m having such a great time!”
(I just facepalmed. The policeman did give her a ride home to her insulin… but not back to the party.)
Doctor/Physician, Non-Dialogue, Pennsylvania, Punny, Silly, USA, Vet | Healthy | March 5, 2020
Our English Setter has had surgery to repair an ACL injury. She chews on her stitches and manages to pop one. We load her in the car to make the 45-minute drive to the vet, calling ahead to make sure they know we’re coming, as we know we’ll be pushing closing time for them.
We get there a few minutes before close and our vet comes into the waiting room to greet us. He picks up our girl and proclaims dramatically, “What did you do that for, you b****?!”
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