Comments by "Widdekuu91" (@Widdekuu91) on "ABC News"
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Exactly. Never point the gun at something unless you intend on destroying it.
I've had someone point an airsoft-gun at me, I'm not sure if it was loaded, but I was a meter away from the thing, sat in my pyjamas on the couch watching Big Bang Theory and I remember the feeling and it was awful. We'd just had an argument and the person aimed it at my face and went; 'Poof..poof..bang..bang..' and made gestures as if he'd just shot my head off.
I said; 'Why would you do that?' and I remember him going; 'Jeesh, it was just a joke' but a week later, he got a gun with tiny bullets (air-rifle or air-gun it's called I think) and pointed it at his friends after he got drunk, saying; 'Any last words, Rob?'
Eventually he hung out of the window at night, aiming his airsoft-gun at the ankles of cycling ladies that passed by. He said he liked to hear the older ladies scream from shock and pain when it hit their ankles, but he said they probably thought it was a pebble that hit them, so it was fine, 'he wouldn't get caught.'
At some point he started displaying his guns on the wall, started to say; 'That man needs to be shot' or 'she needs to be dipped in boiling oil' or he'd pretend to shoot someone in the head after an argument, with his hand and go; 'Pfoow!'
I'm glad I'm not sleeping next to him anymore. I felt anything but safe.
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+Saturn
Hate to say it, but it doesn't matter what you own or look like, if they wanna bully you, they will.
Just live every day the way you want, they're going to hate on it anyway if they choose to.
Often, the "popular kids" are praised for having a pink backpack, but when you wear it, it's stupid.
Same will happen with a buffalo. If the "cool kids" have them, it's epic. If another kid has them, they 'smell like shit' or 'hey how's your mom the buffalo, buffalo-dipshit.'
You cannot influence being bullied, is all I'm saying. Be yourself and enjoy life and be kind, that's all.
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Same here! I was 19 when I had a severe panic-attack and got nauseous.
The teacher refused to open the lock for me, telling me to vomit in the bin. When I did, he laughed; 'Ah, you weren't lying then?'
He witnessed me vomiting and then opened the door. I went to the toilets, fell to the floor, unable to move or hear anything, just whooshing noises.
The teacher went and followed me, with the whole classroom and then mocked me in front of the class (I don't recall what, because I only heard parts of it, the rest is blurry) but he basically treated it like a circus-show.
When I started barfing, he announced it joyfully "Oohhhhh there she goes again! Look!" and yelled at me; 'Make sure to clean that toilet, we're not picking up after you!'
After I sat back, dazed and scared, he took my pulse and it was too weak to feel. He replied (similar to the video) 'Oh, well, you must be dead. You have no pulse.'
I didn't understand and the class laughed. I just sat there, staring at him, not getting it and thinking it was my hearing again.
When he told me to get up, I tried, but my knees didn't work. I pulled himself up on the sink and barfed again. He yelled; 'Not in the sink! That is difficult to clean! To the toilets, NOW!'
I crawled towards the toilet, hearing the laughter behind me and the whole classroom in the hallway started talking about me, loudly, saying I was disgusting for vomiting.
Near the end, I took his hand and got up again. I pinched his hand slightly when I did this and he said; 'Oh, you are overreacting, dramaqueen.'
I stood up, got dizzy, leaned on his hand and he yanked his arm away and said; 'I'm not dealing with this.'
He very angrily walked off and I started hyperventilating. It took another hours for me to calm down, laying underneath a desk on the floor, accompanied by a random schoolworker.
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"Hello, you're watching USA's easliest morning-news...the president kissed his wife today.
Belinda, you're at the scene, can you tell me, what did the kiss look like and dó you think he might give her another one?"
"Thankyou Jack, and well, that might indeed happen later this day, all the signs are there, he clearly loves his wife.'
"Unbelievable, can you get closer?" "I will sure try, Jack, I am currently standing close enough to hear what they're saying and it doesn't seem to be a fight, I will keep you up to date."
"Jeesh, that is very interesting, thankyou Belinda, we'll get right back to you, but FIRST....it turns out that thís chicken...left a sticky feather on an egg she laid. Robert is at the scene, Robert can you hear me?'
'Yes, Jack, I am and I can definitely confirm the feather is sticky.' 'Should the American people be worried about feathers in their breakfast now, Robert?'
'Well Jack, that is ofcourse an important question, I myself found it adequate to simply remove the feather, but not anyone might be able to and we dó have to think about all the people in this country, that might be blind, have no hands or are allergic to feathers. This is a very serious issue and the chicken wíll be held accountable, of that I'm sure.
You heard it here first...on ABC News. The News who's name sounds like the text on your toddler's dinner-bib. Thank you for watching and we'll be right back after the break."
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If you are deliberately telling private information, from a conversation that was supposed to stay in between the doctor and the patiënt (because it was unrelated to the surgery at the moment, so there was no reason to tell the collegues) while knowing that during this, the collegues will be distracted and/or be influenced and therefore more careless with the patïent, then you're unprofessional.
Even if you only take the risk, or THINK about taking the risk, it shows you do not care enough. You need to give 100% for each patiënt. You are working with people that can not interfere with anything you do.
So you need to be trustworthy. Fully.
And as soon as you start insinuating that, because someone was angry at you, you might deliberately make mistakes out of spite, you're crossing the line. Mentally maybe, but the thought being there in the first place shows that you're not being a professional.
They can go to therapists or punch a bag if they are frustrated. You can not hand an unconcious naked, living human body to a spitefull and frustrated human with a knife. No matter how well the job went afterwards, you're not supposed to take risks, especially if the doctor even says the insinuation out loud.
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+NataschaO (Warning, slightly related story, turning into ex-hate-story as it goes, haha)
I was 15 kilo's underweight (52 kilos) when I met my ex. It was due to my job that required me to walk upstairs all day long, carry things around and I biked in the weekends. I can assure you I ate enough, sometimes more than 8 sandwiches + two full plates of dinner. I am very tall, I had a superflat stomach and I was 19 when we got together. When I got fired from my very-demanding job I sat at home for about 3 months and gained the 10 kilo's back. My stomach was still flat, just not as flat as before.
My ex was twice my (new) weight at that moment, heavily obese. He kept saying; 'It doesn't matter hun, I love you the way you are' and I'd go; 'I never said I was unhappy with gaining the weight back, I can finally wear my pants without a belt.'
So thats when he started slowly losing weight, going from extremely obese to just very very obese. His doctors were worried and something near his stomach even ripped due to the pressure of the weight.
Thats when I graduated and started practicing living on my own. So I gained 2 kilo's. Only 2.
You'd think that it wouldn't make a difference, but he kept on touching my stomach and sighing. And saying; Youknow. I love you the way you are.' and a few seconds after; Remember that flat tummy you had before? That was cute. I'm not asking you to get it flat though. But if you want me to help you with a schedule or something...'
One time he even had the balls to criticize me for eating a banana, while hé was eating a big sandwich with liver and onions. He said; 'My sandwich is my lunch. You already had lunch, you're just adding calories now, bananas are weightgainers.'
I can't believe I was with that guy for so long. Anyway, I felt the story was kindof related.
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Youknow...about a week ago, I had a revelation.
I thought; Wow. We have better knowledge of medical procedures than 50 years ago. We have more tools to help us live (you wouldn't damage your right foot by walking on it endlessly because the left one was paralyzed, for example.)
And we know more about food and we have gyms and we know smoking is wrong, etcetera.
So I thought; The people alive right now are not going to have as many complications as their parents, we might be great and able to walk when we're 90!
But then I realized that with the ice bucket, cinnamon, people playing drinking games, choking games, salt and ice challenges, ghost pepper challenge, pranks...I'm just going to be the only sane one in the elderly home.
I am going to be surrounded by older ladies with Korsakov (braindamage after drinking) mumbling; yolo..yolo..' in their half-sleep and talking about their trampstamps that have sunk right above their bumhole. It's going to be a disaster.
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Youknow, I have always hated magic tricks. It always feels like I'm witnessing a murder, usually one of a woman like myself, wearing a pretty dress.
And sure, they make her pretty and reletable, so we get concerned and will be relieved when she's safe. But I just get sick to my stomach when they stick knifes trough boxes or saw the lady in half.
I watched series when I was younger, that were meant for kids and in one, a girl was fantasizing about being one of those ladies. She didn't realize they didn't réálly saw the ladies in half, so her gruesome fantasy ended with her, screaming bloody murder, her red wrinkled face screaming and sticking out of a box and blood everywhere.
So I'm guessing that's where the trauma came from. Others are scared of clowns. I can handle clowns, I'm not scared of them. It's the magicians I'm afraid of.
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I was enthusiastic about learning CPR, but two weeks after recieving the diploma, I thought; Well, I'll probably never use this..'
I went to the city to cheer myself up and right around the corner was a guy, on the ground, seizuring and choking. I wasn't really sure what to do, but I wiped away the foam coming from his mouth, tilted his head so he could breathe clearer and made sure his head wasn't slamming against the pavement. (Normally you put people in a recovery position, but he was seizuring bádly, kicking all over the place, there was no way that'd work.)
Right after he woke up, he jumped up scared and fainted right on the spot. I was the only one that had been prepared to catch him (the way I'd learned, so I wouldn't break my back under his weight) and I waited for the ambulance and gathered info, while I made sure the other people backed off (you'd be surprised how many people wanna 'help' by pulling him upside down or putting him in a chair and pour water in his mouth (while he's unconcious).
So I was pretty proud and surprised that I managed to rescue that guy. The rest was just videotaping with their phones or screaming at me that I 'had to hold him upside down' or 'slap him in the face like in the movies, that'll wake him up."
Make sure you dó take CPR seriously :D
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Wait a second, the fact that she threatened with lawsuits (which is just words btw, you can't take that personal, she had to wait 2 weeks for her hernia-treatment, she was clearly just aggravated, professionals can handle that) does not condone the fact that they were judging her naked body and calling her fat.
Do you realize what happens once someone does that?
If you, Sheena, are wrapping a gift for my aunt. You're taking care, despite the fact you don't know her.
Then I whisper to you that I actually hate my aunt, but I have to give her the gift anyway.
I then tell you my aunt is ugly and lazy and has cheated on my uncle many times. (All untrue bytheway)
Then what would you do with the gift that you're wrapping?
Can you seriously claim that the gift will still look good? Or will you accidently rip the paper a bit more and not care to fix it, 'forget' to put the bow on it, put it down rougly, hoping it'll break?
Because thát is what will happen. Now imagine your body instead of the gift. With every word the co-worker says, he/she risks her collegues being irresponsible/distracted and making mistakes.
YOU cánt have that in a hospital! It should not matter what you do!
Even if you come in, whining and screaming that you hate doctors and you don't want to go into surgery, they have to be adults, examine the situation, respond to it correctly and by which I mean, feel sorry for you & try to help you.
I've had different kids to deal with at my work. Special needs, kids with all kinds of problems at home.
If I took every time they screamed at me, personal, I'd hate them. But I don't.
I am an adult and I understand when something is meant to hurt me, or when they are scared/sad and are reacting to that. And I know how to comfort them and make them apologize for it afterwards, without using my 'status' as a teacher or complaining about them to my collegues. Because that's for immature d*ckheads.
I rest my case.
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