Going to the doctor can be nerve wracking for even the bravest of people, even if it’s only for a quick checkup. Fortunately, most doctors and nurses are great people just trying to help…but these Redditors and Quorans were unlucky enough to run into medical workers who are rude, aggressive, and just plain unprofessional. Check out their stories below—just don’t let them put you off going to the doctor when you need to.
1. Probably Shouldn’t Be A Doctor
Someone I know went to an oncologist because they thought she might have cancer. "I have good news", the doctor said, "your test results are back and you do not have cancer. Congratulations". A week later, she got a disturbing call.
Someone called to schedule her first round of chemo. She told the lady on the phone that there must be some mistake, the doctor said she was cancer-free. The lady on the phone got real uncomfortable and said, "I have an order here from that doctor that you are to begin chemotherapy, so you better call his office to straighten this out. And perhaps contact a lawyer".
She does and it turns out that all her charts showed she had cancer. The doctor knew it but simply lied about it because he didn't like to deliver bad news. After investigating, they discovered several other patients who went through exactly the same ordeal.
Her chemo and lawsuit are both pending.
2. Way To Go, Champ
My doctor couldn't get the speculum in. After a lot of pushing, it finally—and painfully—slams inside me. The doctor was excited by his achievement and goes "Atta girl! That's my champ!"
The nurse looked at him in horror. I busted out laughing. He realized almost immediately that it was very weird, turned completely red, and went, "I'm so sorry! I coach Little League!"
3. Hamming It Up
When I was seven and in second grade, I fell off the monkey bars at school and landed on my wrist. I could feel that something was seriously wrong, but the school nurse shrugged it off and sent me to class. I was forced to use the wrist (my writing hand) for the rest of the day.
When my mom came to pick me up, the nurse told her I had been "hamming it up" all afternoon. Fortunately, my parents have half a brain and saw that it was obviously broken. I had a cast for three months, and that nurse didn't look me in the eye for the rest of my elementary school career.
Oh, and apparently the break was barely a centimeter from the growth plate. I came within a centimeter of having a seven-year-old's hand for the rest of my life. Would have been a fun bar story, at least.
4. The Antenatal Appointment
I discovered that I was pregnant just weeks after my 40th birthday. To say I was shocked is an understatement! As part of my care, I had to attend an antenatal appointment with my doctor. Unfortunately, what he said to me left me in tears.
This so-called medical "professional" looked me straight in the eyes and told me that I was irresponsible for getting impregnated at my age. He added that my baby would definitely be born with Down Syndrome. He very carefully explained to me that women are born with a set amount of eggs and these are similar to eggs on a supermarket shelf because they have a "best before" date.
Getting pregnant at 40 meant that an out-of-date egg had somehow gotten fertilized and he told me that it was 100% certain that my unborn baby wouldn't be healthy and would have a disability. His next advise shocked me to the core. The doctor told me that I stop the pregnancy to save the embarrassment of having a baby with special needs. I was so upset I started to cry and he told me that it was my hormones making me emotionally unstable!
When I left the surgery, I went home and cried my eyes out, feeling as though I'd done something wrong. When my partner came home from work, I told him what the doctor had said and he was angrier than I'd ever seen him before. I mentioned the option of terminating and he just looked at me and said that we would love our child no matter what.
Seven months later, I gave birth to a healthy baby boy whom I loved instantly. That stupid doctor was wrong.
5. The Big Reveal
About four years ago, I fell with a bottle in my hand and cut through all the tendons and nerves from my pinky to the middle finger. The cut was about six cm long. I went to the doctor the next day, and after waiting for two hours in the lobby, I went in to see him.
He took three minutes to examine my hand before telling me to go home and rinse with water and antiseptic. I remember feeling elated by his calm demeanor and I thought the wound wasn't too serious. I went home and did as he said.
A couple of days later, I traveled back home to Switzerland. I took the bandage off when I got home and showed my mum. She went completely ballistic since the wound had gone septic and my fingers were turning blue. I also had no movement or feeling in my pinky and its neighbor. She rushed me to the ER immediately, where I received 23 stitches in my hand.
The severed nerves had to be extended and tied together. The doctor told me I was extremely close to requiring an amputation of all three fingers. I later complained to the hospital in Denmark about the doctor but I probably should have sued. He failed to tell me the severity of my wound, so I think that qualifies as being extremely unprofessional.
To this day, when I clench my fist, my pinky just points straight.
6. Who’s Normal Anyway?
In high school, my mom set me up with a therapist because she thought all teenagers should have someone to talk to about teenage angst. In the first meeting, he asked about me and why I was there, and I said I was pretty normal.
He scoffed and said, "No, you’re not, normal people don’t get sent to therapy".
I never went back.
7. Listen To The Patient
I had a 'doctor' order the nurses to give me Elavil after I had specifically refused it. She was convinced that my symptoms were caused by 'depression' and 'wanting to get off work' - yes, she actually said that to me. She prescribed Elavil saying that it helps with pain and "also it will help with your depression and you'll see, everything will look brighter".
I refused, saying I wasn't depressed, other than my frustration in trying to get a diagnosis. I tried again to convince her that my pain and inability to hold anything down was not a mental/emotional issue. About a week later, I collapsed and ended up in the hospital. That's when the doctor did the unthinkable.
She told the nurses to give me Elavil via IV and not tell me. I almost immediately started having extreme tremors and what they called pseudo-Parkinsonism. One of the nurses slipped up—or, actually, stepped up—and told me it was caused by the Elavil. I was furious as I had said I did not want to take it.
Later on, after going home and several more weeks of constant vomiting, things got even worse. I ended up hypokalemic and completely paralyzed. I was taken by ambulance to another hospital and it took them less than a week to find that I had a grapefruit-sized tumor 80% infiltrated from my uterus into my abdominal wall.
They sampled it and my lymph nodes, and found I had cancer with lymph involvement on both sides. I underwent a hysterectomy/oophorectomy as well as radiation treatment, and my pain magically disappeared! To this day though, I have the twitching and tremors as a souvenir. As a bonus, she told me she had been convinced it wasn't cancer because "cancer doesn't hurt".
When I saw her again after the surgery I said something along the lines of "Well, I guess cancer does hurt after all!" Her response was, "Well, it's not the cancer that hurts, it's the nerves it was compressing". I told her "In that case, step over here by the door and I'll slam your hand in it. The door slamming won't hurt, just the nerves the door compresses will!"
8. At Least He Has A Sense Of Humor
When I was a kid, getting your tonsils removed was a typical childhood surgery. Basically, it was an overnight procedure. You would get the operation done on day one and would leave the hospital the next day with the promise that you could have as much ice cream as you wanted.
Surgery, at any age, sucks. But the promise of endless ice cream makes the whole situation a little less sucky. Before my surgery, the doctor visited and we instantly got along with each other because we both had a dry, sarcastic sense of humor. He explained the whole procedure and everything was going as planned.
A little while later I was lying on the operating table and they administered the general anesthetic. The last thing I heard before my world faded to black was the doctor saying, "Nurse, please pass me the rusty saw".
My little eight-year-old brain didn’t know if it should laugh or cry out in panic. This would have driven me mad, but thankfully I was blissfully unconscious less than a second after hearing it. Was it unprofessional? Yes. Was it downright funny? Absolutely.
When I recovered, I told the doctor that I hoped I didn’t break his rusty saw. He just smiled and horribly feigned not knowing what I was talking about. The nurse’s laugh gave him away though.
That turned out to be the only "positive" experience I ever had in a hospital as a kid.
9. Stop Judging
Two weeks ago, my IUD displaced, resulting in a trip to the ER. The attending nurse asked who was the guy with me , and I replied that he was my boyfriend of nearly six years.
Her response was, "You're 31, not married, and don't have any kids? Who gave you an IUD?" and she rolled her eyes.
This was at a well-respected hospital. The nurse was younger than I was.
10. The Concussion
I indulged too much at a party, fell, and got a huge cut in my head that wouldn't stop bleeding. I went to the hospital, they stapled my head together, and let me rest for about three hours. They then handed me a brochure without saying anything and told me I could go. That turned out to be a big mistake.
So there I was in the street, still wobbly, in nearly freezing weather. I hailed a cab and when I got out, I literally fainted in the street. A neighbor asked if I needed to go to a hospital, to which I replied, "I just came from the hospital".
I got helped to my apartment and passed out on my bed for about 10 hours. When I woke up, I pulled the brochure out of my pocket and it basically said, "You may have a concussion. It is very important you not be alone for the next 24 hours". Jerks.
11. Pushy Parents
I can't really remember this but my parents told me about it. Apparently, I was super hyper as a kid and one day I was being really lethargic so my mother brought me to the local doctor. He gave me a quick look over and said, "Nah, he's grand".
When I got home, my father was back from work and was like, "No, there's something wrong with him", and brought me back to the doctor. After arguing with the doctor for 20 minutes, the doctor got irritated and said, "Fine, bring him to the hospital", and wrote a letter for my father to bring with him to the hospital.
My father got a look at the letter later and it was this big passive-aggressive rant that basically went, "Ugh, sorry you have to deal with these pushy parents". Meanwhile, as soon as I got to the hospital they were like, "Oh no, this kid’s got pneumonia".
The doctor still hasn’t apologized, for the record.
12. Pretty Pearly Whites
I had a dentist tell me that my teeth were hideous, and lecture me about what I needed to have done to make them pretty so my husband would be interested in me again. This was while he was working on my teeth. I found another dentist. My teeth are fine, and my husband has always been interested.
13. Should’ve Just Looked In Her Ear
When I first got insurance through my husband, I had to find a new doctor. I had an ear infection and went to see a random new doctor on insurance. Now, I frequently have ear infections so it's usually in and out. Doc looks at my ear, clucks, and gives me a prescription.
This doctor asked me about my symptoms and I told her. Instead of looking in my ear, she starts asking me other questions. She goes, "Well, are you nauseous"?
"Right now? No".
"Are you ever nauseous"?
"Well, yeah, occasionally".
The next words out of her mouth made me cringe with fear. "Oh, honey, I can't prescribe you anything cause you're pregnant! That's why you're nauseous. Now, don't even take any pain meds or you'll hurt the baby!"
So I found myself back in my car with orders for a blood pregnancy test and an anxiety attack. During the whole appointment, the doctor never even looked at my ear or did anything else except ask about nausea. After I calmed down, I ditched the test orders and went to urgent care where, surprise, I had an ear infection.
I never went back to that doctor but did get a call months later asking if I'd done the pregnancy test and to come back for prenatal care.
Over ten years later, still not pregnant.
14. The Forgetful Nurse
While in the hospital, being induced with my second child, the labor nurse kept disappearing for long periods of time. I’d ask for a yoga ball to sit on, she’d be gone for 40 minutes before she came back, and every time say, "I just keep forgetting about you!" Or, "my son brought me some lunch and then I totally forgot about you!"
My labor was only five hours long. She "forgot" about me after I requested my epidural and I started pushing my baby out, alone in a room, with no pain meds.
15. The Name Game
My mom and I share a name. And for a brief time, the same doctor. I was concerned that I might have cancer and scheduled a biopsy. My mom’s appointment was earlier in the week. He mixed up our info and asked my mom about her concerns about cancer. When he realized his mistake he didn't cover by pretending it was another patient.
Nope, he shared all my info. That was an enjoyable phone call I received from my mom! When I confronted him, he laughed it off. I laughed when I reported him.
Thankfully, no cancer!
16. The Party
A guy from our floor ran into my friend at a party and disappeared into the kitchen to make her a "special drink", which she accepted, because she was 18 and naïve and believed this guy was her friend. Half an hour later, the RA caught this guy trying to do something truly heinous.
He was dragging my friend's unconscious body into his dorm room. The RA told the guy, "Nope, this isn't happening", picked my roommate up, and brought her back to our suite. She was still really messed up the next morning, way more messed up than she should have been after having only two drinks the night before (as in, she could barely stay awake), so I brought her to the ER.
The doctor couldn't have been ruder or less sympathetic. He rolled his eyes when I explained that she'd only had two drinks and said something along the lines of, "You expect me to believe that?" He heavily implied that she'd deserved what happened to her, and that the incident would teach her a lesson about drinking too much.
When we asked for a test, he refused and went off about how it was a waste of time, because less than 1% of people actually test positive, and he knew that she was just lying because she regretted going home with this guy. We loaded her into a car and drove her to the hospital one town over.
She tested positive for Rohypnol. Surprise, jerk, sometimes people are that 1-in-100 case. Despite the positive test, this horrible ordeal wasn't over. When my roommate went to the university with the drug test results, they sat her down for a meeting about how the guy in question would be "ruined" and "lose his football scholarship" if she accused him, and was she really sure she wanted to do that?
They implied that she'd voluntarily taken the drug, and that she would get in trouble for violating the school's substances policy if she came forward. Her grades tanked and she barely finished college, but I switched my major to psychology later that year and now I work with survivors for a living.
This incident was five years ago, and I'm still mad.
17. The Prescription
My dad had terrible treatment from a doctor. He went in, was diagnosed with an infection, and was prescribed antibiotics by Dr. Nice. He went back for a follow-up and ended up with Dr. Mean, who basically said he was going to cancel his prescription (he wasn't done with them, they were just checking if they were working) since he just needed to toughen up and stop being a wimp.
My dad basically requested they stop speaking, acknowledging the doctor's rank as a reason why. The doctor got angry, saying, "Are you threatening me? Undermining my authority?"
"Quite the opposite", my dad replied.
He did get to see Dr. Nice again and his prescription stayed and he eventually recovered.
18. Seeing Red
The doctor told me, "Well, there’s nothing in your eye because I can’t see it, so you’re imagining it and there’s nothing I can do". The medical intern said, "No, wait. I want to try again".
She proceeded to find the broken contact lens that had tore up my eye so bad I thought it had liquefied (it hadn’t). I wanted to hug that intern. People like her are what medicine needs. I knew that lens was in there.
19. Just Wanted a Referral
I needed my doctor to recommend a specialist. She wasn't there, so I saw someone else at the practice. The first thing he did when he walked in was stroke the length of my thigh while I sat on the exam table.
When I asked about the recommendation, he just Googled the type of specialist in the area. Then he could not figure out how to print from Google Maps and kept running back and forth to the printer. I left and found my own specialist.
20. Lesson Learned
I went in to see my gynecologist because I needed my birth control prescription renewed. But that plan backfired. I was 18 and had just become intimate with my partner. She came in and scolded me for sleeping with someone I wasn’t married to and told me that he doesn’t love me and was just using me, that I would end up pregnant and alone, etc.
I paid her no mind but made a mental note from then on that I would not see her for my appointments. When I went to the pharmacy for my prescription, they said the office had never sent it. I called a million times and went back into the office and each time it was some flimsy excuse about why it wasn’t sent.
Turns out she did the same thing to a classmate of mine. I firmly believe she didn’t send my prescription on purpose, like she was trying to teach me a lesson. Safe to say I switched doctors immediately after.
21. The Dentist
When I was in second grade, I jumped off a slide at recess and when I landed, my knees came up and hit my mouth, loosening a few "baby" teeth. The nurse called my mother and she took me to the dentist.
The dentist got me situated in the chair and told me, "Don't worry, I'm just going to squeeze your front teeth to check them", and then proceeded to abruptly yank out my two top front teeth with no anesthesia.
It hurt a lot, scared me, and initiated a 39-year hatred of dentists and dental procedures.
22. Telltale Signs
I thought I had strep throat. I felt really bad in general and could see white patches on the back of my throat. I went to my doctor's and had to see the physician’s assistant. He accused me of pill shopping and said to come back in a week. Yeah, pill shopping for antibiotics.
I came back in a week with lymph nodes the size of golf balls and had definitely had strep throat for the past week. I refused to pay the bill from the physician’s assistant visit and filed a complaint.
23. The Psychiatrist
In high school, I was never one to get sick, and rarely ever had even a common cold. I was a multi-sport athlete in top physical condition, and had a very high threshold for pain—even once giving myself stitches when I nearly accidentally removed a fingertip.
Yet, in my senior year, I spent a couple of weeks with a sore throat that wouldn’t go away. Every time I swallowed—even normal saliva—it felt like I was trying to swallow a porcupine holding an open umbrella…backwards. We went to our regular family ENT doctor after a week or so, and he ran the normal cultures for strep and other things, and nothing showed up.
Granted, this was Alabama in the 90s, and despite (or in support of) what stereotypes exist, medical science was a little lacking. But a few days later, it got so much worse. I could barely swallow without writhing in visible pain, so we went back to the family ENT doc.
Our regular guy was on vacation, so we saw his, I don’t know, maybe his intern, but regardless it was his substitute for the week. After looking into my throat quickly, he told me, "Boy, you need to grab yourself by your bootstraps and toughen up!" He sent me away like I was a wuss with a sore throat.
Fast forward about 10 hours later, and I was fighting for my life. I woke up in the middle of the night, unable to swallow and barely able to breathe, with my throat swollen shut. We rushed to the ER, where I got an emergency tonsillectomy due to a severe tonsil infection that had nearly swollen my throat shut.
Not only was it tonsillitis bad enough that it required emergency surgery, but my tonsils were so bad that they couldn’t use traditional surgery methods, instead having to dislocate my jaw and cut by hand, and then stitch up the huge wounds. The tonsils they removed were so large that they couldn’t use the standard specimen jars they used for tonsils, instead going for what looked like small Mason jars to bring them out to show me.
The same substitute doctor was there, and said that everything would be fine and that I could eat solid food again whenever my body told me it was the right time. Why did we listen to him? I have no idea. That was a Thursday. Saturday morning, I felt fine, and was hungry as all get out. Again, high school football player with a nitro-fueled metabolism.
I wanted solid food. So, after mowing the lawn and doing some chores, I went out for a McDonalds breakfast biscuit. I felt something loose and tickling in my throat, and plucked at it a bit but gave up soon after. Later that night, things took a horrifying turn. I woke up in what I thought was a cold sweat, but it turned out to be a bed covered in blood.
Apparently that tickle in my throat was opening stitches, and a clot that I apparently dislodged, and I nearly bled out through the Saturday and in my bed during the night. I was rushed back to the ER, where they pumped my stomach out and I got a transfusion for the few pints I was missing internally.
They also re-dislocated my jaw, stapled my flingy throat thing to the top of my throat, then re-stitched everything. Thanks, guys. Seven days later, I was finally able to eat solid food again, having lost nearly 25% of my body weight and much of my natural blood. Wish I had just toughened up some more…
24. A Collection Of Complaints
My GP when I was in high school told me my big toenails were falling off because of my marching band shoes. But I played pit percussion, so…I didn't march.
She also told me the reason that I was passing out on stage and in rehearsals was due to "stage fright", which I was adamant about not having, having performed all my life. It turned out I had a congenital heart defect that was discovered a few years later.
At another visit, she said that she wouldn't give me birth control ,even though I was 18, because of "marriage and Jesus". I ended up spending most of my 20s in the hospital because this quack was so bad at her job.
25. The Stent
I had a kidney stone removed and a stent put in. Something didn’t feel right about it and I was in more pain after the procedure than before I had the stone removed. By day three, I was peeing so much blood and I wasn’t eating and I just looked horrible.
I went back to the hospital, but got sent home. They told me it was normal. I went back in two days later, and was sent home again. Both times they barely checked me. I was told I must go back to the same hospital where I had the surgery done if there were any complications—that’s why I kept going back there instead of another hospital.
Two days later, I collapsed. I actually went to my GP before going to the hospital because I wanted a second opinion. He took one look at me, ultrasounded me immediately, and made a shocking discovery. He saw that I had a massive clot in my bladder and a couple smaller ones where my stent was. The hospital was around the corner so my ride rushed me there.
My GP called ahead and told them off and said he will help me sue them if something happens. They admitted me, and had the nerve to say to me, "Why didn’t you come in earlier!" I told them how they sent me home already twice. And they made me wait a couple hours for another ultrasound even though the GP had just given me one.
I had to stay there for two days while they flushed out the clots. But they refused to take out the stent and said it must stay for the full two weeks. Even after they flushed out the clots, I was still in extreme pain—like, just getting up off the bed was agonizing. I wasn’t eating still.
I begged them to take the stent out. I felt like it was constantly ripping my insides. The nurse said to me as they discharged me that if I see any bleeding to come straight back. So I took this to mean they would take me seriously. I've never been more wrong. Not even 24 hours later—bleeding again. At that point, I felt like I was slowly losing all my strength.
My aunty and mom found me just lying there, looking like a ghost. They took me straight back to the hospital where, I kid you not, the triage nurse basically rolled her eyes when she saw me again. They were going to send me home again! They said it was normal! After everything that had already happened, it was like they were ignoring my file.
They finally admitted me after my mom stepped in, but still wouldn’t take out the stent. The urologist saw me twice that day and I begged him and he just told me to wait a couple more days. Anyway, I found a nice nurse who was concerned when she saw the red in the pee bowl and she spoke to another urologist over the phone, who said he would take it out that afternoon.
When I got there, he didn’t seem to have the history of what had happened but he jumped into action. He just took a look at me and how I couldn’t walk properly and took it out straight away. They use a camera so you can see them do it and while he was doing it, I could see all the clots as he was pulling the stent out. He freaked out and asked why hadn't I gotten this out earlier, said how dangerous the clots were, etc.
I told him what had happened. He was so angry and he called my original urologist to be like, "Why did you let it get that far?" And then wrote me up some paper in case I wanted to take it further. My GP wrote a formal complaint too. I tell you, the moment he pulled the stent out and the clots came out, it was instant relief.
I ended up passing part of a stone and three more clots at a public restroom on the way home but by the next evening I was walking around, eating, with my color back. No more bleeding. It was so wild. I felt like such a burden going back to the hospital each time but I knew something was wrong even though they told me it was normal aftereffects of having a stent in.
I don’t understand how they could think losing the amount of blood I was losing every time I peed was normal. They didn’t even seem to care that I hadn't eaten in days and I looked terrible. Honestly, that GP was my life saver. I went back to him after a few days to get a check-up ultrasound for any clots but they were all gone.
26. Better Ugly Than Mean
When I was 14, I went to the dermatologist for acne and they wanted me to get on a medication that was very harsh on the body, and would require a test each month to make sure my liver was fine. I said I was unsure if I wanted to take it because of the side effects.
She told me, "Well, then you’ll just be ugly for the rest of your life".
I left in tears.
27. Not A Great Bedside Manner
I was early pregnant, under a doctor for fertility treatment. Had two HCG tests, and nobody would tell me the results. I called twice over a week, and then called again because I was bleeding. They finally gave me an appointment.
The first thing the doctor did was berate me for harassing them. All I wanted was my test results that were in his tray but he didn't check. The second thing he did was tell me my pregnancy wasn't viable.
28. The School Nurse
My school nurse started refusing to see me because she decided I was faking my symptoms to get out of school, since they were so frequent. Look, I get it—I had a lot of stomach issues, and they're easy to fake, without a lot of symptoms outside of pain. I wasn't faking, the stomachaches were the result of stress and anxiety...but they're beside the point.
One day, during recess, I fell and cut my arm open really badly. I was sent down to the nurse and my arm was wrapped up in a towel so I wouldn't bleed over everything, so the cut wasn't visible at the moment. She saw me approaching and didn't even let me explain why I was there before snapping at me to go back to class.
I went back to class, where the teacher saw me still bleeding, and she had to take me back down to the nurse to get my arm checked out. Mom was called, and I did get out of school that day! Suck it, Nursey!
29. Do You Believe Me Now?
I had a stomach bug in elementary school. I went to the nurse and she sent me back to class, where I proceeded to throw up. I went back to the nurse and told her my stomach still hurts and she didn’t believe me. So what did I do? I threw up right in front of her and finally got sent home.
Freepik, freepik
30. The Rude Receptionist
The receptionist at my psychiatrist is notorious for her attitude. She's the absolute worst. Everyone who has reviewed my doctor on Google Reviews has complained about her. Her phrasing is blunt, and her tone is condescending. I go to this psychiatrist due to social anxiety (go figure...) and dread having to speak with her every single time I schedule an appointment.
Now, my psychiatrist is a very stingy person. He won't, under any circumstances, prescribe more than three prescription refills of 30 dosages (90 dosages in all) per visit, under any circumstances. I was on sertraline at the time, and missing a dosage of that is absolutely dangerous. If I were to run out of the 90 doses and not have time to make an appointment, I'd be put in a potentially life-threatening state.
It felt like I was playing with fire the whole time I was on it, worried about whether I'd be able to make an appointment in time to replenish my supply. In 2015, I was hit by heartbreaking news. My maternal grandmother passed. I had to fly from Florida to Ohio to attend her funeral. Through a twist of bad timing and fate, the last of my 90-day supply was set to run out two days before my flight.
I called my doctor, explained the situation, and he agreed to prescribe me an emergency supply for a few days. I did not know when I had to fly up to Ohio until the day before I called him. I went to the pharmacy the very next day. It was two days until my flight. I had no sertraline left. Lo and behold, he didn't fax the emergency supply like he said he would.
I called the doctor, got the oh-so-cheerful receptionist, and explained that the emergency supply hadn't been faxed. She proceeded to scream at me for being so impatient. The party responsible for my mental health yelled at me while I was grieving. It’s been three years and that still shocks me.
31. The New Doctor
When my doctor moved out of town, she recommended another physician in the same practice to become my new primary doctor. This was around 1996 or so. Upon my first visit with the new doctor, he immediately came off as sort of a jerk—disinterested, acting like he had better things to do. As he grudgingly ran through the standard list of questions, he asked if I was married or had kids.
I told him neither; also, that I'm gay. He dropped the list from his face, scowled at me, and said, "You know where AIDS comes from, don't you?" I was so startled by his reaction I sarcastically shot back, "Yeah, I saw something about it on TV once". As if a gay man in the 1990s wasn't inundated with HIV prevention education.
He rushed through the rest of the appointment and sent me to the lab for some further tests. As we were walking out of the exam room, he shoved the lab test checklist form in my face, pointed at the HIV screen box, and asked, "Do you want one of these", as if he couldn't bear to say it out loud.
I replied in a loud voice, "DO YOU MEAN AN HIV TEST? YES, PLEASE."
Jerk.
I later learned he was a conservative Christian and an acolyte of the head of the anti-gay movement in my city at that time, who was another local physician.
32. Judging A Book By Its Cover
I had a temporary doctor see me once, years ago, at a mental health clinic I was being sent to for regular chats with a psychiatrist and occasional check up with their in-house doctor. One time, she wasn't there so I met with another woman. She looked me up and down from her seat and said, "You don't look depressed", and refused to write a prescription for antidepressants as requested.
Needless to say, without the meds, my mental health declined.
33. Great Advice
I was informed by an absolute genius that my depression wasn't severe after all and I just needed to try harder to succeed in school. I was 17 and had just left a mental hospital after failing two consecutive grades due to depression. It was so bad that I was catatonic upon admittance to the hospital.
On the plus side, I looked him up and he seems to be unable to find work as a clinical psychologist now.
34. Talk About Inappropriate
I went to a new eye doctor in my early twenties. It looked like he dealt with a lot of elderly patients. Anyway, he wanted to give me a glaucoma test. Being young and very sensitive about my eyes, I refused. To which the doctor said "Yes! OK, great, that's fine". Then he did something utterly creepy.
He kissed me on the top of my head. I was incredibly uncomfortable. I didn't know what to do. Part of me wanted to get up and go somewhere else for glasses. The other part of me was like, "The exam's almost done, just cope with it until the end".
I ended up finishing the exam. I regret not telling him to get lost. I never went back, though.
35. Payday
My gynecologist sent me a check. I'd been seeing him for maybe three years, so a few visits. There had been no unprofessional behavior at all. But that last visit was really out of character. He complimented my eyes, and my grooming.
I paid with a check for $123 when leaving, as usual. A few days later, I received in the mail both my check I'd given at the office and a check for $250 with a smiley face in the notes section. It was very uncomfortable and I never went back.
36. The Counselor
My first counselor that I went to see for my depression/anxiety when I was 12 was super cold and unsympathetic. She made me talk about things like my orientation and dark thoughts in front of my parents, even though I specifically requested that I wouldn’t have to.
She was very disbelieving of everything I said, pulled the "other people have it worse card", and was just generally very unhelpful. I left her office in tears after every session. Obviously it wasn’t the most terrible thing that could have happened, but it really messed with me and when my parents tried to get me to go to a different therapist, I had a panic attack so bad I landed myself in the ER.
I was only 12 at the time, and that was my first experience with any mental health "professional". I have no idea how she became a counselor when she was so cold and unkind.
37. Just Eat Something
I changed doctors after four months of being sick, nauseous every time I ate, stomach cramps, fullness…a whole bunch of symptoms. I lost 15 kg (33 lbs) in the first six weeks and was down to 45 kg (99 lbs). She looked at me and instantly went off about how I could not feel good if I was that thin.
I tried to explain that that was my problem. I didn’t want to be thin, but I had terrible pain and nausea when I ate! But she was having none of it. She ignored everything I said and went, "I have seen a lot of anorexic girls. I know what it looks like, so stop putting your finger in your throat!"
She got up and as I went to leave, she gave me a pat on the butt while saying, "Just start to eat again!" Two years later, I have been diagnosed with four compression syndromes, MALS being among them, and will have surgery for them in five days.
Kiss my boney butt.
38. Still Learning Right From Left
I had a diagnostic surgery last year after almost a decade of unbearable menstrual pain, which my doctors and I suspected was endometriosis. All of my symptoms matched. I had an ultrasound and a six centimeter (two-inch) ovarian cyst was found, so the surgery was also to remove that.
Once my OBGYN/surgeon knew I had a cyst, she wrote off the possibility of endometriosis, even though my symptoms started when I was 13 (I was 24 at the time). After surgery, I was told I didn't have endometriosis and a cyst was removed from my left ovary.
I was exhausted, out of it, and devastated to think my pain was something even harder to diagnose, but I thought the cyst was supposed to have been on the right ovary. I didn't get a chance to speak to my surgeon until a month later because she was on vacation.
When my follow-up finally happened, she confirmed no endometriosis right off the bat. All right, but I thought my cyst was on the right ovary, not the left. She started explaining that it's sometimes hard to tell which ovary is which while she went through her notes.
"OH", she said, "the cyst on the ultrasound was MUCH larger than the one we removed, the other one must have burst...also you do have endometriosis." Then she told me that was the end of the appointment and left the room.
She retired shortly after and I have a much better doctor now, fortunately.
39. Not Being Taken Seriously
I went to my OBGYN about horrible hormone issues, worse migraines, heavy periods, bloated lower abdomen, bad cramping…and told her something was wrong with my hormones. She cut me off and said, "There's nothing wrong with your hormones. You're just sensitive to their fluctuations".
The way she said it, her inflection, was like she was telling me, you're just being sensitive. She did no tests. Nothing. Three months later, I went to the hospital for groin pain and medical staff found something terrifying. There was a giant tumor growing straight through my uterus, destroying all the uterine walls.
I want to preface that they didn't find this straight away. A doctor met with me, insisting I had a bladder infection. My urinalysis was negative for infection. The doctor put me on antibiotics anyway, claiming, "Sometimes tests are negative because people drink too much water". A week later, I went back and demanded a more invasive investigation.
After a couple of weeks, I also had an MRI. I took the antibiotics for nothing. No one wanted to more heavily investigate what was wrong with me. No one was listening to me. Not only is this frustrating to have to keep going back, it's expensive (I’m American). Women pay so much money because of being ignored by doctors.
The tumor was so big it had created its own circulatory system, complete with "flow voids" (sounds Lovecraftian) and everything. I had to get a hysterectomy. When they removed everything, the tumor was three times bigger than the uterus. It looked like a cow's stomach or something.
40. This Nurse Needs To Calm Down
I'd had a stomach virus for four days and could barely keep anything down. A nurse randomly asked if I’d been taking my bipolar meds and I said no because it would be a huge waste of money since I was throwing up, but I assured her I was fine.
Documents say I have a history of hallucinations. She got visibly nervous and her voice went high when she asked if I had any problems because of it. I told her I've had a few very mild hallucinations but nothing like I've had in the past. She proceeded to excuse herself, go into the hallway, and freak out loudly to the doc and other nurses.
She was saying my full name where other patients could hear. I immediately jumped up and ran to the door to tell her to please shut up and stop breaking HIPAA, and that I'm not that ill for her to be losing her mind over four days without Seroquel.
41. Read The Patient File
I spent two years going to and from monthly or weekly doctor's visits for multiple specialists and my GP due to multiple car accidents. I have diagnosed spinal damage, TMJ, fibromyalgia, and chronic pain. During a visit, I joked that I see her and my other doctors more often than my own mother.
She looked at me and said, "Wow? Really? That's really sad" in the most judgy voice ever. So I said, "Yeah, I can't leave my house or drive most days. I literally save up my strength for doctor's appointments and spinal shots for the spinal damage".
And then she looked down her nose at me and said, "...What? spinal damage? Are you sure?" I was very sure as she had recommended me to most of the specialists I was seeing—including a psychiatrist for my depression for my CHRONIC PAIN.
I ended up switching doctors literally that day. Best decision I ever made.
42. The Phlebotomist
When I was in my 20s, I was getting a ton of blood taken to rule out a bunch of diseases, and zero in on the horrible one I knew I had/was eventually diagnosed with. So I was a mess from that weighing on my mind. Add to it that I am severely phobic of getting my blood taken and I was a crying mess.
Now, the phlebotomist didn't know what I had been through or what was going on with me. I looked perfectly healthy, right? "Just a drama queen", I guess she thought. She was so incredibly rude to me. She told me how her brother had just passed from Lou Gehrigs and I had no right to be crying and basically called me a loser.
Like, some people might be able to toughen up a little but I was not that person on that day. At that point, I snapped. I got angry and told her I hated her. Well, that did not go well for me either because she launched into a verbal beat down while taking nine vials of blood from me.
It was just a really bad experience for me. It was really unprofessional and did zero to help with my phobia.
43. Allergies Are Kind Of A Big Deal
I was in the hospital for about a week and developed a migraine while there. I’ve had migraines my whole life and know what works to take care of them. Additionally, I am highly allergic to Tylenol and NSAIDS, and this was documented on my chart as well as on the allergy warning bracelet I was wearing.
The doctor didn’t want to give me the medication I always take for migraine (Imitrex) and wanted me to take Tylenol instead. I said, "I can’t, I’m allergic". She asked my reaction and I told her I break out with hives and swelling all over my body.
She turned to the nurse and told her to give me Tylenol anyway, along with a Benadryl. I heard this exchange and told her no way would I be taking the Tylenol. She huffed out of the room.
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44. The Cannula
I had a major issue with my eye a few years ago. Most of the nurses were amazing. I was in so much pain I’d been there about a week when they replaced the cannula in my arm for the fifth time. But that didn't go as planned.
This older, Irish nurse did it. "Short, sharp pain," she warned. Now, my tear duct had exploded and I had cellulitis in my eye. I was in agony. Getting a cannula was nothing compared to that. Yet, I screamed when she put it in. Every time I moved my arm, I screamed. I called her in twice, telling her I think there’s a problem with it.
I knew there was. But she didn’t listen and didn’t care. She treated me so badly. An old man next to me dropped his blanket, so I got out of bed and helped him. I picked up the blanket with my cannula arm and literally bent over in pain, screaming. The old man called the nurse in and pleaded with her. He insisted the pain wasn’t normal.
She ignored him. I started crying and she ignored me. The next day, things got even worse. My eye started gushing blood, so they took me in for emergency surgery. The anesthetist gave me a relaxant and wheeled me into the OR and I was lying there while they did all the prep. After several minutes I was like, "Uh, should I be feeling sleepy yet?"
Someone goes, "You’re not sleepy?" Then there’s this sudden wave of activity, and the surgeon checked my cannula. I screamed when he touched it and he blurted out, "Idiots! How long has she had this in?" Someone else goes, "13 hours", and he goes, "It’s stuck in her muscle tissue".
I was told later that that is one of the most painful things that can happen and that it was insane I had lasted those 13 hours. I also hadn’t received any IV antibiotics for those 13 hours which is probably why my eye started bleeding. The infection had actually burst through my eye because there was nothing stopping it.
It might be spiteful but I really hope that nurse was punished for her incompetence.
45. Doc-In-The-Box
I had a severely sore throat, to the point where I had trouble drinking water. So I went to a Doc-in-the-Box, which is a doctor who works in a pharmacy to diagnose and prescribe things for simple ailments. It's a cheap doctor for people without insurance to go to and pay like, $50 and get stitched up or some cough syrup.
When it was my turn to be seen, I noticed the doc was this long-haired guy who seemed like a bit of a burnout. He told me to open wide and when he put the tongue depressor in, his immediate reaction was—verbatim, mind you—"Oh crud, dude...I bet that hurts like heck!"
I struggled to tell him that yeah, it really did. He replied, "Well, I bet it's strep, we'll run a strep test". So he went and got the strep test and it came back negative. He said, "Jeez, man...I really don't know what else it could be". And this is after he has tried literally one and only one test.
So he clicked around some more on his computer before he got his next bright idea: "Oh, you know what, it's probably mono". So he went and got a mono test, and while he was gone I looked at his computer.
The dude was just looking my stuff up on WebMD. But he gave me a ton of Vicodin because, and I quote: "That throat could be really sore for a while".
46. Nothing Wrong With It
When I was in junior high, I went out for the basketball team. I had to take a physical and it had to be done by the school's doctor and not my own. I went in to do the physical and had to take my clothes off. I did so and the doctor looked me over. He saw that I have an inverted chest bone and said, "Wow. That is freakish. You can't be on the team with that".
I know that my chest bone makes it look like I have a hole in my chest, but I had never been self-conscious about until that moment. Because this examination was taking place in the boys' locker room in front of other kids wanting to go out for the team too, everyone started laughing at me and calling me names.
I grabbed my stuff and left. My mother took me to our regular doctor who reassured me that there was nothing wrong with me and that there are plenty of people who have chest bones just like mine. It didn't help but I appreciated that she explained it to me.
In the end, I stopped taking off my shirt in front of others. I was harassed and bullied by my entire class for years to come because a doctor made a comment that he shouldn't have made.
47. Dislocated
When I was 13, I was rollerblading and dislocated my knee. That was just the beginning of my troubles. I didn’t have a cell phone, I was in a secluded residential neighborhood alone, and it was only like, 1:30 in the afternoon on a weekday (early-out day from school!). So I laid there for a couple of hours until an adult found me and called my grandma.
Because I’d been laying there so long, by the time I got to the hospital, I was still in a lot of pain, but had pretty much calmed down. My knee had popped immediately back into place, so it was not visibly dislocated. They took my BP, and it was normal. So, between my not crying, my normal BP, and that my knee was only swollen, the doctor refused to do any imaging. That was a big mistake.
He told me nothing was wrong with me, and then lectured me about wasting the ER’s time. He also told me if I had truly suffered that injury, he would be able to see it, I'd be howling in agony, and my blood pressure would be elevated. I’m sure it was three hours before I got to the ER, but you can only cry for so long.
I kept going to the doctor to have it looked at, though, because it kept hurting. Every six months for two years, I went back because for "nothing" having happened, I was surely in a lot of pain. The doctor refused to ever do any imaging, just kept telling me there was nothing wrong.
At the year-and-a-half mark, he told me that I was never getting my hands on the pain pills that I was obviously so desperately seeking, and that he actually recommended I see a mental health therapist for my drug-seeking, attention-seeking behavior, and because my pain was just in my head. But years later, I received a shocking diagnosis.
Turns out, I have a connective tissue disorder that both makes injuries like mine more common, and also causes me to have low blood pressure—meaning that my "normal" BP in the ER was actually an elevated one for me. I was 15 when I finally got them to see something was wrong and was referred to physical therapy.
My knee never went back to how it was before the injury, and the physical therapist told me I could have regained all my strength if I’d pursued physical therapy right away. Go figure.
48. Oops, My Bad
I messed up my hip a few years ago. I went to urgent care and they told me it was a strained lap band. I told this to my sister—an athletic trainer—and she told me to lie on my side with a pillow between my legs and that would help with the pain. It did not.
In fact, it hurt so badly that every muscle I had locked up. My husband had to push me onto my back. I made an appointment that Monday morning. When I came in, I told the doctor the above, and she rolled her eyes. "It’s a strained lap band", she told me. "You’re overthinking this. It will be fine if you rest".
I repeated the bit about what my sister told me, and she basically implied my sister was out of her league in dealing with injuries and that she was just making me paranoid. I fought her on it a bit and finally she agreed to examine me. And let me tell you, I have no idea what she did, but whatever it was, it was not gentle and it hurt so bad I actually yelled and started crying.
Then she had the nerve to look at me and say "Oh. That’s not your lap band". No duh, lady. And then she wanted to immediately get back into examining me. I was so angry, I actually put in a complaint. Turned out I’d torn several connective tissues and chipped off a few pieces of the bone. I ended up on medical leave for almost four months. But I was being a hypochondriac, y’all.
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49. Incompetent All The Way Down
I was 17 and had found a lump in my chest. I was terrified. My mother took me to her gynecologist because she didn't trust mine, who she'd never met. The doctor examined me and told me I had something called Fibrocystic Disease. He said hormones make it worse.
Since I was on oral birth control, I asked him if I should stop taking the pill. He said I shouldn't be on the pill in the first place and walked out of the room without saying anything else. No explanation of what Fibrocystic Disease was, and no further instructions for care. But then it got even stranger.
I waited about 20 minutes for someone to come back and then I just got dressed, including putting on my winter coat, and waited. Fifteen minutes later a nurse comes in, looks at me and says, "You can get dressed now". I said, "I AM dressed".
She looked at me again and turned around and walked out without a word. I left and never went back. I looked up Fibrocystic Disease at my college library, but really couldn't tell how bad it was or what I should do. I ended up going to a different gynecologist.
I didn't have Fibrocystic Disease, I had fibrous tissue. I ended up having that lump removed because it caused so much pain. I haven't had any lumps since or any pain.
50. Giving It To You Straight
A few years back, I’d been short of breath. Even though I’m not in the best physical condition, it alarmed me. I went to my general practitioner. He sent me for a stress test, treadmill, EKG, etc. When the results came in, I was sitting in his office, totally expecting the worst. He came in with my chart, his face glum.
Being an impatient patient, I said, "Give it to me straight, Doc". He looked up from the chart, "You’ve got the heart of a sixteen-year-old runner, Big Fella. You’re just fat".
It was unprofessional, but appreciated.
51. Just Following Instructions
I was seeing a pain doctor for a while. They had me on the lowest dosage of Norco, five mg three times a day. After a couple of months, I had developed a tolerance and three per day just wasn’t cutting it. So when I went to the next appointment, I let the physician’s assistant know.
I saw the actual doctor maybe once every six to eight weeks, if not longer, and the majority of office visits were handled by the physician’s assistant. She said that she’d up the prescription to four a day. Normally, the script had been 90 tabs for 30 days, but she upped it to 100 and didn’t say anything else. Cue the next office visit…
PA: So, how are things going?
Me: Fine, except you miswrote the script last month. You upped the dosage to four per day, so the script was finished in 25 days, not 30.
PA: So you finished your meds early?
Me: Actually, no. I finished it exactly as it was written. Four per day with a quantity of 100 is 25 days.
PA: No, you finished the meds early. You’re misusing it.
Me: How am I misusing it when I took it exactly as written?
PA: Because you finished the meds early.
And an argument ensued. In the end, I found out that the physician’s assistant meant to write it as four per day with 10 tabs extra for breakthrough pain, not four per day. She never could admit she made a mistake, and ended up talking to the doctor who also wouldn’t admit that a mistake was made and dropped me.
Additionally, he didn’t just drop me, what he did was considered "patient abandonment" and he didn’t formally and correctly drop me until I threatened to take legal action. In retrospect, I’d say the entire practice of the doctor was unprofessional.
I’m not saying this as a spurned ex-patient, but looking back, he seemed interested in the high-dollar treatments like stem cell therapy or approving an MMJ card, and when I didn’t bite, the whole thing turned into a cash-for-scripts practice and I was pawned off on underlings.
52. Still Free
I previously used another doctor’s office but it's over an hour from where I live. I caught Covid back in 2020 and had weird chest problems since then, and figured it would be good to get it checked on. I told the doctor about my medical history (depression, anxiety, ADHD) and he asked me why I was depressed and said he didn't understand it.
He asked if I was married and had children and when I said no, he said, "Well that's your problem—have some kids and you'll be too tired to be depressed!" I made the mistake of laughing it off because I followed up with my concerns about my heart and lungs. He brushed it off and said, "Okay".
Months later, he accused me of faking medical problems to get Adderall. I offered to show him my testing documentation, and told him my previous office had all the information and prior medical history. Then he accused me of forging the 20+ psychoanalysis papers I had.
When I said I was gonna go to another doctor, he accused me of bribing every doctor, including the one who tested me for ADHD, and said I would be going to prison soon. I told him I looked forward to it.
I'm still a free woman, surprisingly.
53. Baby On The Way
After I happily discovered I was pregnant, my fiancé and I went to confirm the result with the doctor and get any further advice. The doctor barely glanced at me before delivering a heart-wrenching diagnosis. He just started telling my fiancé that it was very likely I could lose the pregnancy, miscarriage rates are very high, don't get excited, etc.
He then asked my fiancé if I worked from home and if he would be there to "support me" if the results didn't "go my way". My fiancé seemed confused and asked me if I was working from home. I was raging inside but just said it was irrelevant and could the doctor please call me directly with my medical results when they came in.
And the doctor argued with me about it! He wanted to refuse to give me the results unless I was with my partner. It took my partner saying that it was unworkable and to please give me results directly before he reluctantly conceded.
I understand wanting your patients to be supported in stressful situations but I have bodily autonomy and the right to know medical information about my own body. How I choose to handle the results is MY business.
What a patronizing, condescending jerk.
54. Run, Run, Run
I had a period of time where I was exhausted without knowing why. After giving the usual samples, I went to get my heart checked to make sure it was functioning properly. So the doctor was making an echo of my heart, stopped suddenly, and said, "Uh oh, that doesn’t look good"...and ran out of the examination room.
I tried to calm myself, but the idea that a doctor was upset at something he saw in my body gave me the idea that he found something horrid and unusual. So the doctor returned with another doctor, who greeted me and said, "Okay, show me".
So the young doctor put the echo thingy back on my chest and the older doctor smirked and said, "No wonder, that’s the wrong spot. If you look at the heart from that angle the aorta looks extremely distended".
"So everything is fine?" I asked. "I was a bit worried".
"Why?" the doctor asked. "Nothing wrong with your heart".
"I always get a little nervous when someone says that something is wrong and sprints out of the room".
The doctor rolled his eyes, "Interns. Sorry, sir". He looked at the intern. "Next time, keep your composure".
He walked out and the intern smiled at me sheepishly before apologizing.
55. Adding Insult To Injury
When I was seven, I was in a major car accident as a pedestrian. The guy who hit me was 16, without a license. One has to be at least 18 to get a license where I live. He was driving a rental car (that his brother rented for him), coming from the reverse direction, and he hit and ran.
From what I have been told, I was thrown into the air, fell down on another car, and then to the ground. I was lucky I fell down on the other car for two reasons: first, well, it slowed me down. Second, the owner of that car was a doctor and he ended up driving me to the hospital without my parents having to wait for the ambulance to come.
He made some calls and made sure that the staff were ready when I came in. Honestly, the story is a bit blurry to me. You know how in the movies there are black scenes? I remember seeing the car, then black. I remember waking up on the way to the hospital and seeing the injuries at my waist. Black.
I remember waking up in the hospital and trying to take off the neck protector, as I felt like it was suffocating me. Black. I remember letting go of my mother's hand while going to the surgery. Black. I was in a full body cast after the accident for 45 days. That meant a lot of hospital visits, painful days, and learning how to walk again.
Most of the doctors during these visits were extremely nice and I’m so very grateful to them. There was one however…
A year after the accident I had another surgery for the removal of the plate in my leg. At the beginning, they tried to put me to sleep and for some reason it didn’t work. This took a while, but for some reason my body didn’t react to the anesthesia the way it should have. I woke up in the middle of surgery, and I was in too much pain even with the anesthesia. That wasn’t supposed to happen and they put me back to sleep.
However, I woke up again right after the surgery, again with too much pain. Remember, I was just an eight-year-old girl at this point, so I started to cry. There were two more patients in the surgery room with me, a little kid and an elderly man. They were both sleeping as I was crying my eyes out.
This one doctor came in, gave me the meanest look I’ve ever seen, and said, "Just shut up already. Look at them sleeping peacefully, can’t you just do the same?"
Needless to say, I hate him to this day.
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