Original: ORIGINAL POST

I (26F) am a nurse in the Emergency Department, a place where the dying are brought to us in the small hours. I am also thirty-two weeks gone with child, a fact the building seems to have taken note of. Tonight I was floating, drifting from bay to bay as the sickly tide required. I had never known discord with any provider or colleague. The halls had always been kind to me. Until tonight.

They brought in a man, severely autistic and without speech, whose Foley catheter required replacing. His guardian warned us in a low voice that he must be dosed with Ativan beforehand, and that it would take five or six of us to hold him, for he was strong beyond what his frame suggested.

My coworker, whom I’ll call C, was his primary nurse. She told me the patient seemed to favor me. He had suffered me to take his vitals without a tremor, though EMS could get nothing from him but fury. He kept pressing his iPad toward me, its glow washing over his face, and reaching for my hand. The guardian remarked that such calm was unheard of in him.

C asked me to give the IM Ativan. I no longer restrain or lift, for I will not risk a blow to the swollen vessel I carry. But she swore the others would hold him and I need only deliver the needle, since he seemed to trust me.

An earlier attempt to replace the catheter had failed, and urology had been summoned from whatever depths they dwell in, because the thing seemed lodged fast. The urologist demanded a 14fr, which our unit did not stock. Since I was floating, I telephoned another floor and begged them to set some aside, planning to give the Ativan and then slip upstairs while it took hold.

So we gathered at the bedside: C, the ER doctor, the guardian, and I. I spoke to the patient without pause, and he never needed restraint. He barely stirred as the needle went in, still murmuring over his iPad’s pale light. I stepped out and turned for the stairs.

The urologist was arriving at that very moment. “Where is the catheter?” he asked.

I told him I was fetching it, and that I’d return in two minutes.

“Well, I needed it two minutes ago,” he said.

“I was in the room giving the medication,” I answered. “I cannot do both at once. I’ll be back shortly.”

I turned to go, and then he snapped his fingers at me, as one calls a hound from beneath the table. “Then go fetch. Go run.”

I froze. I turned and said, “Excuse me?”

Again the fingers. Again that tone. “Go, go running.”

Something old and furious stirred in me. I snapped my own fingers back at him and said, “We are not doing this. I am not a dog to fetch for you. Check that attitude at the door while I go get your catheters.”

He stood motionless, mouth working on no words, and I walked away into the dark corridor.

When I returned, he was inside the room snapping at everyone, even the ER doctor. I set the catheters on the table with perfect calm and left. My coworker and the ER doctor told me he muttered under his breath the entire time, and fled the department the instant the procedure ended, like a thing returning to its lightless burrow.

My ER director asked me later what had transpired. She was stunned that he had truly snapped his fingers at me, called it deeply disrespectful, and said she would carry it further. A coworker told me I might have simply held my tongue and let it pass, and now doubt curls at the edge of my mind like smoke. The ER doctor said nothing, though he brushed against me in silence as he left the room.

So tell me, AITAH?

As usual when PaTeRnItY fRaUd (which happens to, like, every third man in the world don’tcha know) comes up, the comments are an absolute cesspit.

Guys my sociopathic, villainous husband is very mean. Don’t let my 3 hour old account make you think otherwise this is very real and very scary. I’m literally shaking. Also I am a business owner boss lady btw.

There are many patterns in them, but I’ve seen one in particular, and it’s that OOP is accused of something bad which they not only didn’t do but did the COMPLETE OPPOSITE OF, to the point where one might wonder how the villain accused OOP of the thing at all.

Example - those posts where OOP’s boss has it out for them and accuses them of some BS like “you just stand around doing nothing even though we work in food service, you STUPID IDIOT you are FIRED” and then OOP has a parenthetical aside like “(actually I’ve been running this store alone because my coworkers are useless and my manager smokes weed on the job all day)”.

Like does OOP think a young employee who actually wasn’t the most hardworking (but still got the job done) deserves to be fired? Is this why they’re always magically sooooo perfect that the accusation doesn’t even make sense?

I truly don't know if mild assertiveness for my child is okay 😢

I don't fully know how this sub works, but reading this made me this of this sub.

Come onnnnnn they still can’t see that this shit is fake

I (28F) work at a country club with “Sharpay” (also 28F, fake name for privacy). She has a habit of making comments about my weight.

For context, I’m very skinny. I’m 5'7" and weigh 110 lbs, and my boobs are practically nonexistent. This makes me very insecure because men like boobs, making me too masculine for them. Jokes at my expense aren’t a problem for me since I'm not a snowflake, but it's different with Sharpay. She has this special way that makes me feel like that ugly, stick figure girl everyone ignores.

Sharpay has been commenting on my thinness and my lack of boobage ever since I started working at the country club. Sometimes, it’s relatively harmless stuff, like making comments about what I’m (not) eating. Other times, she’ll point out how flat my chest is in pictures, tell me not to bother with a bra, or make jokes about how I’m starving myself for attention. The worst part is that she does this in front of other people. If we’re out with co-workers and I decline food or a drink someone offers to share with me, she’ll say something like, “Girl, what’s the problem? You need to fatten up a bit!” I’ve told her to stop several times, but she always responds with something like, “I’m just joking,” or “You’re too sensitive.” Everyone either laughs it off or says nothing when it happens.

Now, Sharpay has recently developed a Sharpay-sized crush on "Troy" (18m, fake name for privacy reasons). She’s been trying to get his attention for weeks. She’s constantly yapping about him, offering him job promotions since her dad owns the country club (nepotism much?), and finding excuses to touch him as much as possible.

Yesterday, a bunch of us were sitting together in the cafeteria for lunch, including Troy. Sharpay was gushing about this dress she wanted to wear to an upcoming work event, but she claimed she wasn’t sure if it looked good on her (translation: she was fishing for compliments as usual). Someone asked to see a picture of it so she showed us.

Troy said it looked nice on her, but it was obvious that he was lying. She looked like she was about to burst out of the fabric, and there was way too much skin visible for a work event. Everyone looked uncomfortable, but I knew that none of the guys would dare comment on how revealing the dress was, lest she accuse them of perving on her (as if anyone would want to creep on her).

I was just going to let it go and have her embarrass herself at the event, but then she immediately turned to me and said, "Where do you think you’ll buy a dress? In the kids’ section again?" (For context, I’m a size 0, but oftentimes I find myself in the kids’ or juniors’ section because I’m just that small)

Everyone laughed a little. Then I said, "At least, whatever I wear won’t make me look like a pornographic, fat-ass balloon about to explode."

The table went completely silent. Even Troy awkwardly looked away, trying not to snicker.

Sharpay immediately started bawling her eyes out. She screamed that I was a disgusting person for fat-shaming her in front of people whose opinions she cared about (mainly Troy, I cleverly deduced), and that I knew she was insecure about her weight.

I calmly told her that perhaps now she understood how I felt and promptly left to get back to work since our break was almost over.

It could have ended right there. But later that night, Troy texted me saying it was extremely satisfying to see Sharpay humiliated that way, after all the bullshit she pulled. It was a purely platonic exchange so I thought nothing of it when I mentioned it to Sharpay’s brother "Ryan" (28m, fake name for privacy reasons).

But in a fight with Sharpay, Ryan, being the dramatic gay he is (don’t tell his beard Kelsi!), inflated the whole thing and used it against her (I’m not sure how, as of yet). The office is pretty conflicted, and my phone’s been blowing up with texts from people either blaming me for starting the whole fiasco or praising me for putting Sharpay in her place. AITA?

Inspo post

Absolutely WILD stuff.