I am a compassionate person, for the most part. I swear it. If you are my patient, you can bank on the fact that I will do my best to take care of you. Without judgment, without fail. If you, in your lack of medical knowledge, say something that is utterly stupid in the strongest sense of the word, you can rest assured that I am not going to laugh at you in your face.
I’ll wait until I leave the room.
Recently heard by my patients:
“ I need my BEEEEPAP!”
“All I know is that when she was a baby, they had to put her in a plastic bag.” From a mom when asked for the history of her young infant’s delivery. My response? “ You mean they had to BAG her. As in a way for us to give manual breaths. I assure you that they did not put her in a plastic bag.”
“He said I have an internal fart. Something is blocking it from coming out.” Upon hearing that they have a myocardial infarction caused by a blockage of one of the coronary arteries.
“You have to SHUT UP! I have anxiety and the voices in my head said you’re being too loud!” This wouldn’t be funny if the patient were really mentally ill and wasn’t just trying to get some benzos for the weekend.
Of course these are just a few. And they all occured in the ER. This doesn’t include the funny crap we see. Like the stripper who fell off of her pole. Or the arrests. And the drunken people. My job is always, always interesting.
Case in point: just a few short minutes ago, I held in my hot little hands a real-life FBI badge. You know, like the one they flash on tv. Turns out they are just as badass as they seem.