Everyone has pet peeves. You know, silly things that drive you absolutely crazy. One of mine is that when you are trying to get out of an elevator, people are already trying to come in. People! Let the ones getting off go first, then you can get on. Geez!

After a couple of years as an attending, I have developed a few. These things have begun to grate on my nerves, so I’m just going to vent. I have a sneaking suspicion that most of you out there have similar quirks. Here I go.

This first one is The Little Blue Pill:

Me: What medicines are you taking.

Patient: I don’t know. A lot. One is a little blue pill.

Me: Um, yeah. Not really helpful.

Is it really too much to ask to write down your medicines and keep it in your wallet or purse? It’s printed on the bottle. Just copy it down. I mean, there are a lot of blue pills. I know one that a lot of men particularly like. (Hint: you shouldn’t take it with nitrates.)

And patients look at you like, “You should know what I’m talking about, Doctor, since you have superhuman abilities with X-ray vision and telepathy.” Sorry, but, no, doctors weren’t born on Krypton or bitten by radioactive spiders in med school. You actually have to help us help you.

Now, I will spin off of the last one, and move on to the Bag O’ Medicines. I will say that at least these patients think to bring in their medicines. Go you! However, having to sort through a huge bag of medicines and sometimes multiple different pills in one bottle slows me down. I once had a patient bring in their meds in a kitchen-sized garbage bag. Talk about polypharmacy! The 15 or 20 minutes that the nurses and I take to go through that sack is time lost. Please people, just write them down.

Here’s another awesome one: I Don’t Have Any Medical Problems.

Me: What kind of medical problems do you have?

Patient: None.

Me: Then what’s that huge scar going down your chest from?

Patient: Oh, I had a bypass.

Me: Do you have high blood pressure?

Patient: No.

Me: Then why are you taking (insert BP medicine)?

Patient: Well, I did have high blood pressure, but now I take medicine for it, so I don’t have it anymore.

Me (after leaving room and going to our lounge): Ahhhh!! If you have a huge zipper scar going down your chest, are taking medicines for high blood pressure and diabetes, that’s a clue that you do, in fact, have medical problems. Jus’ sayin’.

Now onto: They Had A Fever So I Just Rushed Them In.

Me: So, what brings you to the emergency department today?

Kid’s Parent: He had a fever.

Me: How high was the fever?

KP: I don’t know, but he felt hot.

Me: Did you give them anything for the fever?

KP: Oh no. I just rushed them here.

Now, one should note that the triage nurse gave the kid some Tylenol in triage. While I’m chatting with Mom, the kid has pulled out all the gauze and tongue depressors in the room and built a three-story house, complete with a swimming pool from an emesis basin, while downing a bag of Cheetos Mom got him from the vending machine in the waiting room.

What really drives me mad is that not only do they not treat the fever, but they don’t have a thermometer, and don’t have medicine at home. ALL parents should have this stuff at home. Maybe I’ll start giving out bottles of acetaminophen and ibuprofen at all the baby showers I attend.

It’s not that I don’t think parents should bring in their little angels when they are scared something bad could be going on. I just wish they would have given the kid something. I know how I’ve felt when fighting a fever in the past, and it sucks. I try to educate parents that their little ones are fussing because they feel miserable, too. At least try some meds at home to see if that helps. A little education in this respect is all part of the job.

Now for the most nerve-grating expression I hear: It’s Been A Minute. I really hate this one. It makes my skin crawl.

Me: What brings you to the ED today?

Patient: My stomach hurts.

Me: How long has it been hurting?

Patient: Oh, it’s been a minute. Gaahhhh! So basically what you’re telling me is that you have the ability to see the future, since you timed your arrival to the ED and to the exam room, so that upon my arrival you have been hurting for exactly 60 seconds. Because that’s what a minute is to me. It’s 60 seconds. Didn’t we learn to tell time in preschool?

Me: What’s a minute? An hour, a day, a week?

Patient (rolling their eyes because they are frustrated with my lack of telepathy): Uh, I don’t know. But, it’s been a good little minute.

At this point I am seriously thinking of impaling myself with my pen to stop the insanity.

I realize that “a minute” is likely a long time, but that is only relative to the patient. If your stomach has been hurting for three hours versus three months, my list of possible causes is very different. So, let’s try to be more precise, Mmmkay?

I could go on and on. I don’t mean to sound like I don’t like my patients, but I’m pretty sure everyone reading this probably has a similar list. I know patients aren’t trying to be difficult, but when they are uneducated about the state of their own health, it makes it challenging to determine what is going on.

Most of the time, we are racing against the clock to diagnose and treat. We are always on the edge. Medicine is a partnership, and when patients can’t or don’t volunteer a good history, you start out handicapped. As Jerry Maguire said, “Help me, help you!” This imagery makes me think of the patients laughing at me like Rod Tidwell.

So as a tip to my patients, there are some really easy things you can do to make your ED visit as quick and painless as possible. Write down your medicines, give your little guy some Tylenol, and be relatively clear when telling me what the heck is going on with you. Even Sherlock Holmes would have trouble without clues. And Lord knows, I am no Sherlock Holmes. I’m probably a little more like Dear Dr. Watson. Without the mustache.

Dr. Bundy is an attending physician at ERMed, LLC, in Montgomery, Ala., and a former photojournalist, who not only sing in the car, but talks to herself, is addicted to diet drinks and shoes, and thinks emergency medicine is the greatest specialty.