Sputum, Nazi's, and Breathing.

So I work for a doctor.  Working for a doctor can be very rewarding.  You get to help people, you get to educate people about the practice specialty, and it's truly been my favorite job to date.  But every once in a while you get a patient who is just crazy.  I don't mean mentally ill.  I mean that they just lose it when they're talking to you and swear, freak out, or are so sweet but keep you on the line talking about what they ate that day, how many times their dog pooped, or they just sneezed into a kleenex and does the doctor want to see it?

That really happened.  Here I was, minding my own business when a sweet little old lady walks in.  She waits her turn for my window and when she gets to me she pulls out this kleenex with a HUGE wad of sputum.  For those of you who don't know what that is, it's basically a loogy.  So she pulls it out and says, "I just coughed this up.  Does doctor want to look at it?"  Really?  REALLY?  All I could say was "No, he does not want to see it.  It needs to be done in a sterile container as a lab specimen."  I mean, what else could I say?  If you can think of a better answer to that one, I'll give you major props. 

Then you have the patient who gets really manipulative.  They insist that they need to see the doctor today, and that if I don't get them in "right now," they will die.  This has seriously happened to me.  Well for one, if you're on death's door, don't go to the doctor.  Go to the ER!  A doctor's office has very little in the way of treating death, whereas your hospital down the street has everything you might need to treat death!  This one lady was pushing me on this, so she asked to see the main scheduler for the doctor.  I told her that was me, and she got extremely aggressive.  I was actually trying to work with her, but she would not have it.  The conversation went like this: 

Her:  "I know you can get me in right away.  I know you can just put me in anywhere you want to."

Me:  "No, I really can't.  I already have people scheduled and it wouldn't be fair to them to short them on their time with him."  

Her:  "Well, if you're they primary scheduler of the doctor, then you can."

Me: "No, I really can't."

Her:  "Nazi."

Me: "Did you just call me a Nazi?"  

Her: "Yes, you're a Nazi!!  You are taking absolute control over his schedule and are dominating it!  You're just like Hitler!" 

Me:  "I can't let you speak to me that way, and I'm hanging up now.  Good bye." 

When something like this happens we are told to document it and give it to the doctor to view.  He did, and she was to be discharged from treatment.  But she called back and apologized and  because it was OK with me she got to come back.  When she got in the room the doctor had a couple of words for her such as "I heard you called Jeanne a Nazi" and "If you do that again I will discharge you."  And when he means something, he can really get the point across.  She was obviously desperate, and we are always willing to work with patients who need to be seen, but not when they abuse us.  Nazi.  As if!

My favorite one had to be during my first year with this practice.  I had been checking a woman in for her test, and due to her particular insurance I told her we would bill her and therefore not collect anything that day.  She had her test and went her merry way.  Cut to a month later when the bill arrives.  She calls my boss (who is the doctor's wife) and complains about me.  This is how my conversation with my boss went.

She: "I had a complaint about you today."

Me: "Oh no! Who was it?"

She:  "It was a patient who thought she didn't have to pay anything for her test."

Me: "What????"

She: "Yeah, she told me that you told her she didn't have to pay.  And then she said you 'breathed.'"

Me:  "I kind of like to breathe.  But what did she mean?"

She: "She said 'The girl in the front told me I didn't have to pay anything.  And then she BREATHED.'"

Me: "I'm really sorry, but I have no idea what the heck she's talking about!"

She:  "It was actually really funny."

Me:  "Greaaaat."  

Of course I did not get into trouble.  All I can think of is that things were busy, and I often take big breaths to sort of calm down. She must have heard me and assumed that I was being pissy.  Dude, I have to breathe! 

Over the years I've seen it all.  The truly ill.  The old guys who flirt.  The medical professionals who are sometimes the worst patients.  The patients who don't listen.  The patients who feel entitled because they bring in some little gift for your office.  The patients who are truly trying so hard to do what they need to do but Just. Don't. Get. It.  I've been called many names, been sworn at many times, and shaken my head in disbelief what must be hundreds of times.  But I still love them.  I want to help them.  I want to pour myself out (most of the time) for them.  I really do care about them! 

Except when they call me a Nazi. ;-)