Showing posts with label patient. Show all posts
Showing posts with label patient. Show all posts

Thursday, June 27, 2024

Story 545: Compartmentalization During an Eye Exam

             (In an ophthalmologist’s office, Tech brings Patient to one of the exam rooms)

Tech: (Holding the Patient’s chart, gestures to the big recliner for the Patient to sit) Any changes with your health since your last visit… (Checks the chart) almost 10 years ago?

Patient: (Settles back in the recliner) Yeah, I’m really bad with stuff like that.

Tech: We don’t judge – out loud.  So, any changes?

Patient: (Thinks) Well, I was at this outdoor event last week where it must’ve been over 100° in the shade, and somebody must’ve let their pet horse loose or something because at one point my eyes got so red and itchy and watery like you wouldn’t believe; might’ve been hay or something got in the air during the joust – I mean, during the intense, intense horse race that I had a lot of money riding on.

Tech: (Staring at Patient) …So, no changes.

Patient: (Looks down in shame) No.

Tech: (Writes a note on the chart and sets it on a nearby counter) The Doctor’ll be in shortly, then.  (Leaves immediately, with the exam room door left ajar)

Patient: (Leans over to the chart) I shouldn’t… but I do have a legal right to my own medical records…. (Shakes head) Nah – I’ll play with the space alien contraption instead.  (Swings over the phoropter, mushes face up against it, and starts fiddling with the lenses) Woooooo….

Doctor: (Voice heard down the hall on exiting a nearby exam room) …awful this weekend; I swear, if I have to put up with their garbage another second, I’m gonna lose it for real this time.

Tech: (Voice heard down the hall) When’s the next time you have to see them?

Doctor: About a year, but they keep calling in the meantime and I can’t ignore that.

Tech: Why not?

Doctor: Because the phone’ll keep ringing and I can’t stand it.  I can only hang up on that so many times.

Tech: So block them.

Doctor: You can’t block family!  By the way, bring in the next appointment to Room 4, please – it’s barely 8:00 in the morning and we’re already two hours behind.

Tech: Yes, Doctor.

(A ringtone is heard)

Doctor: Argh, speaking of, here they are again!  I can’t take it anymore, I just can’t take it!... Hi, yes, GO AWAY!  (Breezes into the exam room while shoving a cell phone into a scrubs pocket; Patient is sitting demurely in the recliner, hands folded in lap) Hello there!  Any changes since your last visit in…. (Walks over to the counter and starts reading through the chart)

Patient: Nope; no changes!

Doctor: Great!  (Sits on a stool at the counter and starts entering volumes of notes onto the chart; after a few minutes of standard questions) Let’s check the ol’ vision, shall we?  (Scoots over to the recliner, swings over the phoropter, and wipes it with a disinfectant cloth) Press your face up against this, please.  (Patient does so as Doctor fiddles with the lenses) Hmmm, someone’s been messing around with the lenses again….

Patient: (With upper face mushed up against the metal mask and mouth exposed at the bottom) Heh-heh, can’t trust anybody nowadays, can you.

Doctor: Hm.  (Finishes fiddling, then lowers a mini-eye chart that is attached to the device) All right, which is worse, one – (Flips lenses) or two?

Patient: Ummmm… one?  No, two!

Doctor: Trick question: they’re exactly the same.

Patient: Oh.  Oops.

            (A ringtone is heard from Doctor’s scrubs)

Doctor: (Sighs quietly in disgust) Excuse me one second, would you?

Patient: Uhhhh, sure.

Doctor: Thanks.  (Takes out the phone and forcefully swipes while hissing) Take that, demon!  (Returns the phone to the scrubs pocket) Sorry about that – now, the real test begins, I promise.  (Does a few more checks, then swings back the phoropter and places drops in Patient’s eyes) OK, your eyes are now numb so hold still while I poke them to check the pressure.

Patient: Huh?

Doctor: Relax, it’s testing for glaucoma – you won’t feel a thing, just ignore every natural instinct to protect your eyes from danger and you’ll be fine.  (Swings over a tonometer, wipes it down, and gestures for Patient to lean forward while a device with a blue light shines in Patient’s eyes and Doctor also leans forward from the other side) Now – DON’T MOVE.

Patient: (Head is immobilized by forehead and chin rests on the device) <Gulp>

Tech: (Raps once on the door) Sorry to interrupt, Doctor, but multiple phone calls have come in on the office line for you and we can’t get a thing done out there.

Doctor: (Still leaning forward and staring into Patient’s eyes) And you told them that patients’ very important vision is at stake here, yes?

Tech: Yes – they didn’t care.

Doctor: …I’ll take it in here.  (Tech leaves; to Patient) Bear with me, please.  (Leans toward the counter to pick up a desk phone’s receiver and immediately returns to the tonometer, continuing the glaucoma test) WHAT?!  (To Patient) Keep your eyes open, please.  (Moves the blue light device to the other eye as a loud, unintelligible voice is heard over the phone; to the phone) Any time you call is inconvenient!

Patient: Um, I can wait a few minutes while you –

Doctor: (To Patient) Absolutely not: the patient is always the top priority.  (Swings away the tonometer) And we’re done with this part; follow me, please.  (With the phone cord stretching down the hallway, leads Patient to a room that has a retinal imager on a table; the two sit on opposite sides; to the phone while wiping down the chin rest on Patient’s side) Listen, I don’t care what you think you heard, we are not going through this again – (To Patient) Lean forward, please – (To the phone) You tell them that their behavior is completely unacceptable and I don’t care if they never speak to me again; in fact, I’d rather they didn’t!  (To Patient) Stare at the giant dot on the screen and whatever you do, DO NOT BLINK.  (To the phone) Yes, I’m listening, unfortunately!  (To Patient) Hold still, please – you’ll see a blinding light in a few seconds.  (To the phone) No, I wasn’t talking to you just then; not everything’s all about you, you know!

Patient: (Blinks as light flashes into one eye) Oh sorry; I blinked.

Doctor: It happens; we’ll take another one.  (To the phone) What, I can’t be civil and decent to a patient?!... No, this isn’t a HIPAA violation; I haven’t disclosed any patient identifiers that you’d be able to figure out!  You’ve got some nerve, you know that?!  (To Patient) Try not to blink now, here we go, three-two-one – (Light flashes) Great!  (To the phone) I’m taking retinal images, nosy!  You literally just said – !  (To Patient as the machine slides slightly along the table) Same thing; stare at the big dot; try not to blink – (To the phone) It checks for wear and tear in the eye, if you must know; want me to use it on you?!  (To Patient) Here we go, three-two-one – (Light flashes) Great!  You can lean back now.  (Types on a keyboard to display the images on a large screen; to the phone) Yeah, well maybe if you’d had me examine your eyes years ago, you wouldn’t be complaining how fuzzy the world keeps getting, ever think of that?!  (To Patient) Everything looks great – I’ll send over someone to give you a field test but other than that, see you next year.  (To the phone while standing) You’re so rude – I can’t believe we’re related by blood!  (Leaves)

(Patient remains seated for a few moments in uncertainty, then stands when Tech enters)

Tech: All done?  I was told you just need a field test?

Patient: Yeah, that should wrap it up – I get to keep my vision for another year I guess, heh-heh-heh.

Tech: Oh yeah, heh-heh – this way, please.

(They both walk down the hall to another room with another machine, passing an exam room with the phone cord trailing out and Doctor’s voice alternating in intensity)

Patient: (Gestures to the room) Family drama, eh?

Tech: Huh?  Oh, yeah – happens every birthday; we barely even notice anymore.

Thursday, April 25, 2024

Story 536: We Interrupt This Surgery With a Bit of an Earthquake

             (In an operating room, Patient is wheeled in on a stretcher as the team prepares for surgery)

Surgeon: (Beams broadly at Patient through a surgical mask) Hi there!  How are you feeling before The Big Event?

Patient: (As the anesthesia begins to take effect) Well Doc, I was a little anxious before, but now I feel extreeeeemely grooooovy….

Surgeon: (Briefly tests a surgical saw) Perfect.  Now, you know I’ve done literally thousands of these and hope to do millions more before I’m eventually forced to retire, so rest – (Winks exaggeratedly) assured I could do this procedure blindfolded if I didn’t mind getting sued.  So, we’re going to do a few final checks here and then start slicing you up; please feel free to go ahead and lose consciousness any time now.

Patient: (Eyes drift closed) Riiiiiight… ooooonnnnn….

Surgeon: (To Anesthesiologist who is monitoring Patient) Out?

Anesthesiologist: (Checks Patient’s vital signs) Out.

Surgeon: Good.  (To the O.R. Team) All right, folks, let’s get a move on – I’ve got 10 more of these to get through before office hours today, so make it snappy!

   ONE HOUR LATER

(Patient dreams of riding a rickety roller coaster that continuously ascends)

Patient: (In dream, has arms raised waiting for the first drop that never arrives) WHEEEEEEE – !  (The roller coaster dissolves as Patient slowly awakens, extremely groggy) – eeeeeee….

Surgeon: (Leans over Patient, no longer wearing the surgical mask but still beaming broadly) Hi there!  How are you feeling?

Patient: …weird….

Surgeon: (Chuckles) Yes, that’s to be expected.  So!  How to phrase this: while you were blissfully occupied in dreamland, we’ve had a bit of an unforeseen turn of events here in the waking world.

Patient: …oh...?

Surgeon: (Still beaming broadly) Yes, I had made several incisions and we were just getting into the heart of things, so to speak, when out of nowhere, we apparently had a bit of an earthquake.

Patient: …a bit…?

Anesthesiologist: (Leans in) Measured 6.5 on the Richter scale.

Surgeon: (Smile never falters; to Anesthesiologist) Yes, thank you for the report!  (One-handedly pushes away Anesthesiologist; to Patient) As you can see, nothing to worry about, everyone’s fine, but in an overabundance of caution we had to have a bit of an evacuation.

Patient: A bit??!!  (Sits up slightly on the stretcher and sees that the O.R. has relocated to the hospital’s parking lot)

Surgeon: (Gently pushes Patient back down) Yes, everything is completely under control: once the tremors stopped, we sewed you up – somewhat – and wheeled you right on outta there!

Patient: Oh.  OK.  Guess we have to reschedule then, huh?

Surgeon: Well….

Patient: Well…?

Surgeon: The thing is – due to the overabundance of caution, mind you –

Anesthesiologist: (Leans in again) Everything was falling everywhere.

Surgeon: (Pushes Anesthesiologist away again) – we had to evacuate just when I was about to implant your brand-spanking-new knee, and there wasn’t enough time for me to sew up every single thing before we had to wheel you right on outta there, so things are in a bit of a… precarious state, if you will, and if I don’t get back in and finish what I started soon there is a slight-to-probable chance that you will bleed out.

Patient: WHAT?!

Surgeon: (Holds up a finger) But!  Not to worry, since all we have to do is pick up right where we left off just as soon as you sign these forms stating that you consent to the change in venue and the new, less-than-sterile conditions.  (Holds out a pen and a clipboard with handwritten forms attached)

Patient: (Frantically signs, dates, and times the forms) Fine, yes, do whatever you have to do, just hurry up and finish, please!

Surgeon: (Tosses the clipboard and pen onto a nearby car) That’s great – now, we’re going to send you right on back to dreamland soon, and this’ll all be over before you know it!

Anesthesiologist: (Leans in toward Surgeon) We can’t administer anesthesia right now – we left all the equipment to monitor vitals back in the O.R.

Surgeon: (Smile freezes) Blast.  (To Patient after a few moments) So!  How would you say your pain tolerance is?

Patient: Uh… I like to think it’s pretty high….

Surgeon: (Puts on a surgical mask, wipes hands and forearms thoroughly with sterile alcohol pads, and puts on gloves) Perfect!  So: we’re going to do a bit of a real-world academic exercise now.  Normally, we ask patients after the fact to rate their pain on a scale of 1 to 10, but in these special circumstances I want you to tell me whenever I ask whether any possible pain you feel is 1 – bearable while biting down on this mouth guard – (Inserts it into Patient’s mouth) or 2 – so excruciating that you’re probably going to lose consciousness and return to dreamland all on your own.  Sound like a plan?

Patient: (Through the mouth guard) Uhhhh….

Surgeon: Perfect!  Oh, one more thing – (To Anesthesiologist) Could you add the phrase “Without anesthesia” to the bottom of the form and have our patient initial the addendum, please?

Anesthesiologist: Sure.  (Updates the form and holds it out for Patient to sign)

Patient: (Signs; speaking through the mouth guard) Is this going to take much longer, then?

Surgeon: (Laughs maniacally while raising a scalpel) Not if I have anything to say about it!

 HOURS LATER

(Patient wakes up in a hospital room and sees Surgeon and Nurse standing nearby)

Surgeon: (No longer wearing a surgical mask) Hi there!  How are you feeling?

Patient: …Not too great, to be honest.

Surgeon: Great!  You unfortunately did lose consciousness during the surgery without telling me first like we’d agreed, but I was almost done at that point so no hard feelings.  (Hands a packet to Patient, who groggily takes it) We woke you up now so I could give you your homework: these are all the meds you’ll need to take 15 times a day for the next month, and all the exercises you’ll need to do with you brand-spanking-new knee every hour on the hour, even while you’re sleeping.  Got all that?

Patient: (Loopily stares at the huge pile of papers, then back at Surgeon) …Huh?

Surgeon: Great!  Gotta run – that earthquake set me back about two months on my appointments, so you can just imagine the happiness my life is right now!  (Dashes out the door)

Patient: (To Nurse) Is everything all right, or should I be worried?

Nurse: (Working on Patient’s IV) Everything’s fine for the most part, but with the earthquake inserting itself into the schedule we’re all set back today.  Physical Therapy will be here eventually to get you up and moving so you can get on outta here, but with all the delays they won’t have you running the half-marathon or doing the high jump until at least tomorrow, and that’s being optimistic.

Patient: …I’ll manage.

Thursday, November 3, 2022

Story 464: Unexpected Dental Work

 (In a room in Dentist’s office, Patient waits patiently in the reclined exam chair until Dentist arrives)

Dentist: Hello!  I see you’ve had your cleaning and X-rays done, so nothing left for me to do except give you the bad news, eh?  Heh-heh-heh – kidding, I want this over with as much as you.

Patient: Okayyyy….

Dentist: (Holds X-ray films up to the light, shakes head, and “Tsks” several times) Oh dear, oh dear – this won’t do at all.

Patient: (Panicking) What won’t?

Dentist: (Shakes head some more, tosses the films onto a counter, puts on gloves, and turns to Patient with a scraper and small mirror at the ready) I need to see for myself first – open up!  (Patient opens mouth as Dentist dives in, shoving in a suction tool for assistance) Uh-huh, just as I thought.  (Taps a molar with the scraper) You see that right there?

Patient: Gurgle?

Dentist: Oh – here.  (Hands over a larger mirror for Patient to hold during the demonstration) You see that?  (Taps the molar again) That’s no good.

Patient: Naw ooo?

Dentist: No.  Look at that decay, just strolling all over the enamel without so much as a “By your leave”!  And I know you brush and floss every day, so this – (Taps slightly harder, making Patient flinch) is a gross insult to us all.

Patient: (Trying to angle the mirror for a better view) Uk – egh –

Dentist: (Takes away the mirror, presses a buzzer on the wall, and begins prepping the tool tray) Yes-yes-yes: try as we might, build the mightiest fluoride wall, relentlessly scrape plaque off the entire surface area, and all it takes is one bacterium to find the microscopic fault line and let the rest of the invading army in.  Still, we must be resilient in the face of such setbacks.  (A Hygienist enters the room) Hi, thank you for coming back so soon.

Hygienist: Need me again for this patient?

Dentist: Indeed: seems we’re doing a filling today.

Hygienist: (Nods in agreement) Ah yes, there were signs.

Patient: (Sits up in the chair, shaking head vigorously) Mm-mmf!  Mm-mmf!

Dentist: Here, let me.  (Takes out the suction tool and hands it to Hygienist) Feel free to remove that whenever you like, except during the actual procedure, it’ll come in handy then.

Patient: Thanks, but I can’t have a filling, I’ve never had a cavity in my life!

Dentist: (Shrugs) First time for everything.

Patient: You don’t understand: I’m just starting my middle-age phase, and I HAVE NEVER HAD A CAVITY IN MY LIFE.  I can’t start now!

Dentist: Sure you can – I’ve got a whole mouth full of `em myself; they’re actually what led me to my calling.  (Shows the evidence)

Patient: Well, yeah, but that’s expected for your… (Dentist raises an eyebrow) generation.

Dentist: Good save – it’s a minor procedure, probably won’t even have to numb you at all.

Patient: Numb me?!

Dentist: (Chuckles while lightly but firmly shoving Patient back down on the chair) It’ll take less than 10 minutes; you’re lucky I had a cancellation today or else both insurance and I’d’ve had to charge you for a separate visit.

Patient: But – !  (Hygienist shoves the suction tool back into Patient’s mouth as Dentist finishes preparations)

Dentist: (Dives in again and begins the work) You’re also very lucky, you know, to have gone this long without a filling – you can thank improved preventative care and those sealants I see your kiddie dentist put on your molars all those years ago, which are slowly but surely eroding like the sands of time.

Patient: [Whimpers]

Dentist: (As Hygienist swaps out cement for a vise) Here we go, and press – it – down!

Patient: Nnnnh.

Dentist: Good, that means it’s working.  (Hygienist swaps out the vise for a laser beam) Now to dry that on the gale-force-winds setting, heh-heh-heh.  (The laser buzzes) Oops, missed a spot.  (Hygienist swaps out the laser for more cement; Dentist tamps it down with a mini-jackhammer) Won’t be a minute!

Patient: (Pounded into the chair) Eeeeee!!!

Dentist: (As Hygienist swaps out the jackhammer for the vise) And again!  (Clamps down on the tooth, the swaps that out for the laser beam again) And back to dry!  (The laser “Bzzzzzzz”s)

Patient: (Teeth rattling) Zzzzzz –

Dentist: (Turns off the laser with a flourish) And we’re done!  (Checks watch) What did I tell you – seven minutes!  Nice bit of work if I may say so myself; how do you feel?

Patient: (Slumps in the chair as Hygienist removes dental accessories) Mmmfff….

Dentist: (Pats Patient’s shoulder) You’ll feel that way for the next half hour – don’t let that stop you from eating lunch later, and now you’ll have an edge on what you ingest, hee-hee!  See you in six months.  (Leaves the room while snapping off gloves into a nearby trashcan)

Hygienist: (Raises the exam chair to a sitting position and helps Patient out of it) Make sure to stop at the front desk on your way out – there might be an extra copay for this.  (Patient stands next to the chair, deep in thought) You OK?

Patient: Hm?  Oh, yeah, just realized something too late.

Hygienist: What, your dental insurance is out-of-network?

Patient: (Shudders) Not even in jest.  No, I just realized that back when I made this appointment six months ago, I really shouldn’t have set it for the day after Halloween.

Thursday, September 29, 2022

Story 459: Allergic to My Own Species

 (In an exam room in Doctor’s office, Patient sits on the exam table, swinging feet gently while waiting)

Doctor: (Enters in a hurry and immediately begins checking Patient’s blood pressure, pulse, and heartbeat) Hi there, how long’s it been – six months?  Deep breath.

Patient: (Breathes deeply) Actually, more like eight years.

Doctor: (Checks Patient’s thyroid) You don’t say; has it really been that long?  Kids all grown up, then?  (Whacks Patient’s knees with a reflex hammer)

Patient: (Kicks at the appropriate times) No kids, just me.

Doctor: Oh sorry, must be thinking about my kids – open up.  (Shines a small flashlight down Patient’s throat while using a tongue depressor, then switches to the ears with a different instrument)

Patient: (Tilting head for each ear) I’ve been all right health-wise, so I haven’t been coming here because I haven’t been sick.

Doctor: (Tsks and shakes head while tying off Patient’s arm with a tourniquet, disinfecting a spot on the forearm, and casually siphoning off a vial of blood) You should always go to your primary care physician at least once a year so we can check if anything nasty’s brewing.  (Labels the vial, takes off the tourniquet, puts a bandage over the new hole, and starts to leave) I’ll call you with the results in a few days – see you this time next year – byeeee!!!

Patient: Wait, I haven’t told you why I’m here yet!

Doctor: (Stops at the door and turns around) So there is something nasty brewing?

Patient: No – well, maybe – it’s just –

Doctor: I’ve got 300 patients to see today, so speed it up.

Patient: I think I have an allergy.

Doctor: (Whips out a prescription pad and starts scribbling) All right, I’ll refer you to an allergist – what kind?

Patient: Umm….

Doctor: Nuts?  Dairy?  Gluten?  Microplastics?

Patient: People?

Doctor: (Stops writing) I don’t follow.

Patient: I’ve noticed more and more lately that I’m feeling terribly allergic to my own species whenever I’m around them.

Doctor: (Slowly lowers arms, then grabs a stool and wheels it over to the table to sit closer to Patient) How so?

Patient: Well, first off, they annoy me.

Doctor: That’s not an allergy; that’s just reality.

Patient: I’m finding I can’t be around them for too long without feeling physically ill.  (Rolls up sleeves) Look at this: I’ve only been around you for five minutes, Doc, and I’m already breaking out into hives!

Doctor: (Takes Patient’s wrists and pulls arms forward slightly to stare at the hives) I’m not sure if I should be concerned or insulted.

Patient: (Rolls down sleeves after Doctor lets go) It’s nothing personal – I’ve been getting this way with everyone lately.  It’s like my skin bursts into boils in a misguided attempt to defend itself.

Doctor: I can give you a cream for it.

Patient: Thanks, that may help, but what about the sounds?

Doctor: Sounds?

Patient: I’m starting to not be able to tolerate any human noises – chewing, talking, breathing – again, nothing personal, but your lip smacking over there is slowly driving me bananas right now.

Doctor: (Pushes lips together for a moment) Sounds – heh-heh, sorry – like you’re describing misophonia: I can refer a therapist to help you with coping mechanisms.

Patient: Thanks, that may help, but what about the sneezing fits I get every time I enter a crowded room?  Or the shakes when strangers get in my face?  Or the racing heart when family and friends get in my face? Or the –

Doctor: (Stands) I hate to cut you off, but most of what you’re describing are signs of a social anxiety disorder rather than an actual allergy.  (Writes on a new page of the prescription pad, tears it off, and hands it to Patient) Here’s a referral for a psychiatrist: go make an appointment and see if you feel any better afterward.

Patient: (Stares at the paper with increasingly red, teary eyes) Oh.  OK.  I’ll try that.  Thanks.

Doctor: (Heads for the door) You’re welcome – I’m off – see you in a year – good luck with the kids – byeeee!!!!  (Leaves)

Patient: (Stares at the door, nose running and red bumps forming on face) But I don’t have any kids….

 ONE WEEK LATER

(On the phone)

Patient: Hello?

Doctor: Hi, this is Dr. --------------, I’m calling –

Patient: Oh hey, Doc!  I went to the psychiatrist and I think it worked!

Doctor: …What?

Patient: Yeah, we talked all about my introverted personality and the state of the world feeding into my general aversion to humanity and how I can come to terms with how awful we all are if I just stop fighting it so darn much, and wow!  What a breakthrough!  It’s still gonna take some time, but at least now I stop feeling overwhelming nausea every time I board the bus, know-what-I-mean?

Doctor: Yeah that’s great – listen, I got the results in on your blood test and you were right.

Patient: How so?

Doctor: You are allergic.  To human beings.

Patient: Huh?

Doctor: You’re even allergic to yourself – I’m flabbergasted you’ve managed to survive this long.

Patient: Uhhhh….

Doctor: I want you to order a hazmat suit immediately and then come back to the office so I can take more blood to examine and either work on getting one of those plastic bubbles for you to live in forever or arrange for you to be shipped to the North Pole or the South Pole or maybe even the Moon so you’ll never encounter another human being ever again.  (Silence on the other end for a few moments) I know this is a lot to take in, especially when you made all that mental and emotional progress –

Patient: When can I leave?

Thursday, March 3, 2022

Story 431: I Don’t Know How to Human Properly

 (In a doctor’s consultation room; it looks like a psychiatrist’s office – but it isn’t)

Doctor: (Sitting in an uncomfy chair and addressing Patient, who is lying on the usual couch and staring intently at the ceiling) So, what brings you here today?  (Pen hovers over a notepad, poised at the ready)

Patient: Well Doc, I’ve been alive for over three decades and it’s come to my attention more and more often lately that I’ve not been doing it quite right this whole time.

Doctor: (Pauses in taking notes) How do you mean?

Patient: (Shifts on the couch to face Doctor) Well, for instance, when you brought me in here you asked, “How are you?” and I said “Oh fine, thanks” and left it at that.  I just now realized I never asked how you were.

Doctor: (Chuckles and waves dismissively) Oh, that’s not much – we all do that sometimes, and today we’re here to talk about you, not me.

Patient: (Turns to lie back down on the couch) Yes, but it’s common decency and I couldn’t even think to do it until it was too late not to be awkward.  Not the first time by a long shot, either.

Doctor: (Starts taking notes again) Well, social faux pas are unfortunate but not problematic in and of themselves.  Is there anything similar that’s bothering you?

Patient: Yes.  Lots of little things like that, all day, every day.  Made me realize… I don’t know how to human properly.

Doctor: Oh dear, sorry you feel that way.  What’s another example?

Patient: Where do I begin?  Only the other day, one of my coworkers mentioned it was their birthday, and I said, “That’s nice, Happy Birthday,” and then later that afternoon the rest of the department whipped out a cake, card, and presents!

Doctor: And?

Patient: And I didn’t even think to do anything like that!  And I’ve been working with this person for almost 15 years!

Doctor: Well, we all have our strengths.                                                       

Patient: OK, then how about another coworker who’s having a baby soon, and someone in a different department said they’d throw a baby shower for her, and the other day came to me asking if I was planning on chipping in `cause they hadn’t heard back from me yet!

Doctor: To be fair, that actually could be a bit presumptuous on their part.

Patient: I’m the mom-to-be’s supervisor!

Doctor: Oh.

Patient: Yes!  And when I was asked that, it hit me that I should’ve been the one arranging the shower from the beginning!

Doctor: Yes, that is a bit basic.  How long have you been in this role?

Patient: Three months, why?

Doctor: You’ll probably be coming across a lot more of these types of situations.

Patient: (Slumps farther down the couch) Great.  I already have to remind myself when we have visitors to the department that I should offer them some water or coffee, only because one of my “subordinates” was kind enough to ask when I left some higher-ups from Corporate just sitting there while we waited for the CEO.

Doctor: Ouch.

Patient: And work’s not the half of it: I don’t even know how to act around my own family and friends sometimes.

Doctor: How so?

Patient: Well, when anything major comes up like a wedding, or a graduation, or a Bar Mitzvah, or a funeral, I find myself completely at a loss what to do, what to say, where to go, how to act, who to tip!  And everything I do think of to say to the guest of honor or the bereaved winds up sounding completely asinine!  And the few times I even think of it, how do I know when it’s appropriate for me to send over food?!

Doctor: This is all sounding very much like social anxiety.

Patient: I’d agree with you, but I come across the same… block, around people I’m comfortable with!  I’ve had a best friend since infancy, and when they told me the other day they’re going through a rough time all I could do was “Uh-huh” and trickle off the conversation because I had absolutely no idea what to say!

Doctor: You could’ve just listened.

Patient: (Turns back to Doctor) You see!  Everyone knows stuff like this instinctively, but I always have to be told everything and hope I remember it in time!  There’s something wrong with me, Doc – I missed out on the instruction manual on how to be a human being!

Doctor: (Finishes notes with a flourish) Well, you may be somewhat lacking in empathy and maturity and common sense in many instances, but this seems to be more of a case of ignorance and laziness rather than complete sociopathy.  (Patient double-takes as Doctor walks to the desk, takes what appears to be a smart phone out of a container, and begins entering settings on it) This is an excellent opportunity to test out a device I’ve been trying to patent – you can be my first human subject.  (Hands the device to Patient)

Patient: (Stares at the many features on the screen) What do I do with this?

Doctor: Think of it as a customized search engine: whenever you come across a social situation you don’t know how to respond to, just select the appropriate scenario and a whole bunch of suggested phrases and behaviors will display.

Patient: (Taps the icon for “Loss of Pet,” then sees “Friend,” “Relative,” “Acquaintance,” “Coworker,” “Supervisor,” “Subordinate,” and “Stranger,” taps “Friend,” then sees “Close Friend,” “Casual Friend,” “Social Media Friend,” “Potential Main Squeeze (Awaiting Confirmation),” taps “Casual Friend,” then sees “Say: ‘So sorry to hear about your fur baby/pet/companion’ – Do: Send pet loss sympathy card and/or make a donation to the local animal shelter (if pet’s name/species is unknown, skip second part).”)  Wow.

Doctor: I tried to make the algorithm as thorough as possible, so please let me know if I overlooked anything – it’s officially in beta testing now.

Patient: (Stands) Thanks, this should be really helpful!

Doctor: I hope so – come back in two weeks and let me know, would you?

 ONE WEEK LATER

(Patient arrives at a hospital as a visitor, carrying a small basket of baby supplies)

Patient: (Knocks on an open door of a room in Maternity and enters with a wide smile) “Hiiiii!!!!”

Coworker: (Sitting in bed and holding a newborn baby) Oh, hi!  Thank you so much for coming to visit!

Patient: “Of course!”  (Holds up the basket for a moment before setting it on a nearby table) “Since I missed out on the shower….”

Coworker: (Laughs) Aw, thanks, I missed out, too!  (To the baby) You were in quite the hurry there, little one!

Patient: (Surreptitiously glances down at the device peeking out of a jeans pocket and taps a button; immediately goes to the sink and washes hands) “Almost forgot!”

Coworker: Oh, would you like to hold the baby?

Patient: (Freezes a bit while drying hands) …“Sure!”  (Gently cradles the baby in arms and sits down slowly in a nearby chair; stares down at the baby while struggling to remember phrases) “Has your eyes”…?

Coworker: You think so?

Patient: (Looks closer at the baby and back at Coworker) Maybe more your hair.

Coworker: Certainly has a ton of it!

Patient: (Looks back down at the baby, who starts to fidget) “Oops, I think we want Mommy back!”  (Gently hands the baby back to Coworker and slides the device out of the pocket a bit again, glancing down) “So, when are they gonna spring you two from here, eh?”

Coworker: (Distracted by the cooing baby, then looks back up at Patient) Hm, sorry?

Patient: Um…. (Scratches head and leans forward slightly to cover up looking at the device again) “Did they say you and the baby can go home soon?”

Coworker: Oh, probably tomorrow, so that’ll be nice.

Patient: (Nods) “Uh-huh.”  “Nice.”

(Coworker’s Partner enters with two cups of water; Patient quickly stands)

Partner: Oh hi, thanks for coming by!

Patient: (Shakes hands after the cups are set down) “Of course!”  “Congratulations, you two!”  (Mini-waves at the baby) Three!  “I’ll let you all enjoy each other’s company now, buh-bye!”  (Washes hands again and backs toward the door)

Coworker: Thanks again for coming, and for the supplies, we’ll definitely need them!

Partner: (Sees the basket on the table) Oh yeah, thanks a lot!

Patient: (Still backing toward the door) “No worries!”  Um…. “Good fortune!”… Um… yeah, bye.  (Runs away)

Partner: (Smiles at Coworker and the baby) Seems nice.

Coworker: Yeah.  A little awkward sometimes, but improving.

 ONE WEEK LATER

(In Doctor’s consultation room – the two are in the same positions as before)

Doctor: Well?

Patient: (Beaming while holding up the device) It.  Was.  Amazing!  I was hardly ever at a loss for words; I almost always knew exactly what to do in almost any situation; and even when I stumbled or made a “Whoopsie!”, this thing always guided me back on track!

Doctor: (Taking notes) Excellent.  Your feedback is invaluable during the testing phase for this to be accepted as a legitimate medical treatment.

Patient: Great!  Would you mind if I kept it for a little longer, then?

Doctor: How much longer do you think you need?

Patient: Probably the rest of my life.

Doctor: That’s fine; I have several more test devices to distribute and the prototype stays with me, so you can keep that one forever if you like.

Patient: Yessss!!!  (Briefly hugs device to chest) You don’t know how much this has helped me; I’m not exaggerating when I say it’s changed my life!

Doctor: That’s good to hear – it’s always nice to know technology can be used for good without the potential for gaining sentience and taking over the world.

Patient: …Yeah, that too.

Doctor: Oh, one more thing.  (Goes to the desk, opens a drawer, and hands a piece of paper to Patient)

Patient: (Peers at the form) What’s this?

Doctor: Since you’ll be keeping the device, once the patent is inevitably approved this’ll be the monthly bill.  (Patient looks up in shock) I’m sure your insurance will cover at least part of it.

Patient: (Rapidly navigates through the device) “As a voluntary test subject, all equipment and medications involved in the study are perpetually provided free of charge!”  (Triumphantly holds out the device and mic-drops it onto the couch)

Doctor: Wow, that thing really does work in all scenarios.  I’ll make a note to increase my royalty demands.