This here bit of pixel-space is designated for my rants. I claim it to be so, therefore it shall be.
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April 4, 2011.
I wake up feeling quite alright, but at 7:30 or so, my tooth starts bothering me. I don't think anything of it, really--I just thought I had something caught in it. It still didn't feel any better after I flossed, but I shrugged it off. No biggy.
As the day wears on, my tooth just hurts more and more and my mouth just begins to swell. Half way into Spanish, I begin to taste blood. Nearly two hours later in Science class, the pain has become unbearable and I'm ready to knock myself out. But I settle to go to the nurse instead.
That. ********. b***h.
First she totally forgets I'm there and ushers in a guy who just needed some damn food, then the next girl says a simple, "I don't feel good," and she's sent home. My turn and I say, "My tooth hurts really badly."
The woman gives me a Does-It-Look-Like-Give-A-s**t look and then sighs and asks me what I want her to do about it. At this point I'm so close to tears when I tell her to call my mom. Right when she's about to ask me the phone number, a Science teacher comes in holding a newly hatched duckling, crooning about how cute he was. What does the nurse do? She shoves the phone at me, nearly knocking it off her desk, grabs the duck and walks out the damn room.
No big. I can call my mom myself.
Except that there's a code you have to punch in before the number to make it work.
The woman had me standing there for ten damn agonizing minutes fumbling with the ******** phone alone crying my eyes out because I was in so much pain.
When she gets back, she kicks me out of the room because another ill student's mother had come and they needed to take care of her. [I wasn't really mad at this--the girl was really bad off and needed to be taken to the hospital. I just hated it when the nurse sank her claws into my shoulders and practically shoved me out the damn room.]
Finally I'm called back in and she demands to know what my mom said. I told her that she didn't tell me how to work the phone. She throws me an irritated glance before grabbing the phone and asking for the number. I start listing the digits when she cuts me off and tells me to "hold on." A few seconds later she tells me to start, and I do, giving her the area code. She cuts me off and asks if it's far off. I tell her no. She hangs up the phone, saying she didn't need the code, and makes me start all over. My tooth was making it hard to talk, but I gave her the number. It doesn't work, and, lo and behold, she does need the area code to make the phone call go through. Again I have to say it. Normally this is the part where the nurse talks to your parent, but she shoved the phone at me and told me to talk to her myself.
By this time, I'm at my breaking point. I'm tired, stressed out, and in a lot of pain. Does this nurse care? Of course not.
After the phone call, the nurse is fixing an icepack. Now, the significance of this is that she makes one for everybody. Head hurt? Here's an icepack. Throwing up? Here's an icepack. Sprain an ankle? Here's an icepack. On your period and you thnk you're dying from the tremendous pain of cramps? Here's an icepack. Enjoy.
Well, once she's finished, she holds it out to me in the same hand as my note, but she drops it onto the floor. She doesn't make any move to pick it up, so I kneel down and get it myself. As soon as I come up, she says, "That isn't for you."
. . .
Seriously? This woman gives out icepacks like they're going out of style to anyone with any sort of ailment, but she can't give me one when I need it the most? ******** stingy old hag. Keep your damn ice. I hope you freeze to death.
Finally my mom came and picked me up. After a few minutes of threatening to go thrash the nurse, Mom listens to me and drives off. I go to the dentist and my third molar is tearing at my gums and trying to come out. The tissue is inflamed and, after a lot of painful prodding and poking, I'm on heavy medication. Tomorrow I'm going for a consultation and most likely going to have to go into surgery to have all four of my third molars taken out.
I swear the next time I go to that nurse and she treats me like I'm s**t, I'm going to knock all the teeth out from her skull.
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April 4, 2011.
I wake up feeling quite alright, but at 7:30 or so, my tooth starts bothering me. I don't think anything of it, really--I just thought I had something caught in it. It still didn't feel any better after I flossed, but I shrugged it off. No biggy.
As the day wears on, my tooth just hurts more and more and my mouth just begins to swell. Half way into Spanish, I begin to taste blood. Nearly two hours later in Science class, the pain has become unbearable and I'm ready to knock myself out. But I settle to go to the nurse instead.
That. ********. b***h.
First she totally forgets I'm there and ushers in a guy who just needed some damn food, then the next girl says a simple, "I don't feel good," and she's sent home. My turn and I say, "My tooth hurts really badly."
The woman gives me a Does-It-Look-Like-Give-A-s**t look and then sighs and asks me what I want her to do about it. At this point I'm so close to tears when I tell her to call my mom. Right when she's about to ask me the phone number, a Science teacher comes in holding a newly hatched duckling, crooning about how cute he was. What does the nurse do? She shoves the phone at me, nearly knocking it off her desk, grabs the duck and walks out the damn room.
No big. I can call my mom myself.
Except that there's a code you have to punch in before the number to make it work.
The woman had me standing there for ten damn agonizing minutes fumbling with the ******** phone alone crying my eyes out because I was in so much pain.
When she gets back, she kicks me out of the room because another ill student's mother had come and they needed to take care of her. [I wasn't really mad at this--the girl was really bad off and needed to be taken to the hospital. I just hated it when the nurse sank her claws into my shoulders and practically shoved me out the damn room.]
Finally I'm called back in and she demands to know what my mom said. I told her that she didn't tell me how to work the phone. She throws me an irritated glance before grabbing the phone and asking for the number. I start listing the digits when she cuts me off and tells me to "hold on." A few seconds later she tells me to start, and I do, giving her the area code. She cuts me off and asks if it's far off. I tell her no. She hangs up the phone, saying she didn't need the code, and makes me start all over. My tooth was making it hard to talk, but I gave her the number. It doesn't work, and, lo and behold, she does need the area code to make the phone call go through. Again I have to say it. Normally this is the part where the nurse talks to your parent, but she shoved the phone at me and told me to talk to her myself.
By this time, I'm at my breaking point. I'm tired, stressed out, and in a lot of pain. Does this nurse care? Of course not.
After the phone call, the nurse is fixing an icepack. Now, the significance of this is that she makes one for everybody. Head hurt? Here's an icepack. Throwing up? Here's an icepack. Sprain an ankle? Here's an icepack. On your period and you thnk you're dying from the tremendous pain of cramps? Here's an icepack. Enjoy.
Well, once she's finished, she holds it out to me in the same hand as my note, but she drops it onto the floor. She doesn't make any move to pick it up, so I kneel down and get it myself. As soon as I come up, she says, "That isn't for you."
. . .
Seriously? This woman gives out icepacks like they're going out of style to anyone with any sort of ailment, but she can't give me one when I need it the most? ******** stingy old hag. Keep your damn ice. I hope you freeze to death.
Finally my mom came and picked me up. After a few minutes of threatening to go thrash the nurse, Mom listens to me and drives off. I go to the dentist and my third molar is tearing at my gums and trying to come out. The tissue is inflamed and, after a lot of painful prodding and poking, I'm on heavy medication. Tomorrow I'm going for a consultation and most likely going to have to go into surgery to have all four of my third molars taken out.
I swear the next time I go to that nurse and she treats me like I'm s**t, I'm going to knock all the teeth out from her skull.
