rSlash - r/TIFU Anesthesia Turned Me into a Karen
Episode Date: September 4, 20260:00 Intro 0:06 Cheater 3:41 Misread 6:34 Banned 8:01 Accidental racist 10:04 Marvel 11:30 Three laxatives 12:50 Deep nap Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices...
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That's why every step and dollar raised matters.
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Together, we can carry the fire and help create a world for,
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F'd up, where O.P. accidentally destroys a marriage. Today I effed up by accidentally
texting a friend that his wife was cheating on him. I live in a nice neighborhood where a bunch of us
are friendly with each other. One of my neighbors, Mike, has a pool, and today he invited me and a few
other neighbors over for a little pool day. Music, beer, wine, pool floats.
Everything you need for a nice suburban pool day.
At one point, another neighbor was walking her dog past Mike's house.
His pool is mostly behind the house, but you can see part of it from the street,
so we waved and yelled hello.
She waved back, and we invited her to come join us.
She said, sure, came through the gate, and pretty soon someone handed her a glass of wine.
About 10 minutes later, she realized her husband, Dave, might be worried that she was taking
so long to return, as her dog walk had become an extended expedition.
She said, hey, O.P., I don't have my phone. Can you text Dave real quick and tell him I stopped at
Mike's for a glass of wine? So I pulled out my phone and texted Dave, hey, FYI, your wife is over at
Mike's house having some wine. Then I put my phone down, jumped into the pool, climbed into a
floaty chair, and spent the next hour drinking beers and enjoying my afternoon. Eventually, I got out
and picked up my phone to check the time. I had about a dozen messages from Dave, except to my
horror, it was not the correct Dave. I had texted a completely different Dave in my contacts with a
very similar last name. Think Dave Smith versus Dave Smithers. And unfortunately, the wrong Dave
apparently knew several people named Mike. Even more unfortunately, his wife was also out of the house
running errands at that exact moment. And even more unfortunately than that, wrong Dave apparently already
had some concerns about how friendly his wife might be with one particular Mike. So while I'd been
peacefully floating around drinking beer, this man had been experiencing the worst hour of his marriage.
The wrong Dave texts went something like this. WTF, she said that she was going to Walmart and the
library. How do you know? Thanks though. I called her. She didn't pick up. She called me back and
claims she's at Walmart. Can you see her with Mike? Can you take a picture and send it to me?
I knew it all along.
Dude, what the F!
And just to complete the experience,
I also received a text from wrong Dave's wife.
Why the F are you making up stuff about me?
I stared at the screen for a few seconds as my soul left my body.
Then I immediately texted both of them.
My bad, I texted the wrong Dave by mistake.
I meant to text Dave Smithers.
Sorry for the confusion.
At that point, I decided the most responsible course of action was
grab two beers, get back in the pool, and try to avoid the universe for a while. When I finally
checked again later, there was about a 45-minute gap in the conversation. Then one final message
from wrong Dave. You have no idea how much shit you've caused. For what it's worth, correct Dave,
apparently never even noticed that his wife's dog walk had taken longer than usual. Yes,
O.P., you did throw gasoline onto this fire, but it seems like there was already a fire raging
in the first place.
This comment from whole guarantee.
O.P. What is wrong with your wording in your first message?
It's like, can you tell my husband that I had a flat tire in front of the hospital?
I should be late for dinner.
Versus, your wife is in the hospital after a car accident.
Probably not going to make it.
Today I effed up by misreading the room with a group of classmates and getting a severe reality check at 548 a.m.
My main group of friends had already left for the day, and I still had some time to kill on campus.
I saw a group of female classmates sitting together, and since I genuinely just wanted to socialize and expand my social circle,
I decided to walk over, sit down, and join their conversation.
I thought everything was going totally fine.
We were chatting, and I asked them a few casual questions, including how they did on our recent school grades and exams to keep the conversation going.
And from my perspective, we were all having a pretty solid, friendly time.
I left feeling like I'd made a good effort to connect with people outside my usual crowd.
Fast forward to 5.48 a.m. this morning.
My alarm hasn't even gone off yet, and I wake up to a direct message from one of the girls in that group.
She essentially dropped a wall of text, letting me know that my attempt to join them actually made her and her friends super uncomfortable.
She specifically mentioned that asking about their grades was awkward,
that me sitting near them felt intrusive, and that if I had any intentions of getting close to her,
or her group, she had zero interest. She finished it off by asking me to keep everything strictly
about school from now on. I was hit with this total emotional bomb, and that's being generous. I was
acting in a hundred percent good faith with zero weird or predatory intentions. So finding out that
my presence was read as intrusive and creepy stung pretty badly. If I caught even a single hint of
discomfort yesterday, I would have apologized and walked away right then and there. I didn't argue.
I replied owning up to it, told her I had no bad intent,
apologize for making her feel uncomfortable, and agreed to keep things strictly academic.
Right after that, I archived our chat, noticed she unfollowed me on social media.
So I unfollowed her back to match her energy,
and now I'm just sitting here at 6 a.m. realizing I completely misread a room,
and I turned a normal Tuesday into an awkward social nightmare.
O.P., man, I don't know. I hope this doesn't make me sound too bad.
I'm actually kind of on your side here.
It's okay to sit down at a group of people that you kind of know and chat with them.
It's not like you were being like, hey, anyone will go grab some drinks?
You guys want to go, what are you doing after this, huh?
What do you say?
You specifically said that you were talking about school and grades, and she says she wants to keep it about school.
Isn't talking about grades, keeping it about school?
Am I, like, out of touch here?
Also, I may be biased because this is literally how I met my wife.
There was just a table of girls and I sat down and started talking, not like being,
flirty, just, hello, I'm new here, you're new here, we're all new at this school together,
let's talk to each other. And we just had our 16 year anniversary a couple days ago.
So I don't think you did anything wrong. I mean, I wasn't there. Maybe you were being creepy,
but it doesn't sound like it. So I think you did okay here, O.P. Today I effed up by thinking
I'd be fine by myself after anesthesia and getting banned from my vets. I had a small operation
that required anesthesia and a lot of pain medication. The hospital told me someone needed to pick me up
afterward, but I just moved across the country, so I decided to lie until then my ride was outside
and then just get an Uber home. I don't remember much after the surgery, or for most of the rest of the
day. The following week, I was supposed to leave the country and was planning to bring my cat,
which I needed some paperwork from my vet for. So at some point, during my post-anesthesia blackout,
I called them about it. I have absolutely no idea what I said on that phone call, but it was bad enough
that I got an email telling me they were terminating their relationship with me as a client.
The next thing I remember, I'm biking to my vet, which is thankfully only a few blocks away,
and like falling all over the place. I think I ran into a street sign, LMAO.
Then I'm inside the vet's office, sobbing and screaming because they fired me as a client,
waving my hospital bracelets at them and yelling, I'm on anesthesia and fentanyl. Yikes.
Anyways, this is your reminder that when,
a hospital tells you that you need someone with you after anesthesia, they're not just being
overly cautious. You may feel like it's no big deal to take an Uber, and next thing you know,
you're screaming at your vet, bleeding down the knee like a psycho. Today I effed up by being
accidentally racist as a nurse. I'm a nursing student in the Netherlands, and I was taking care
of this lovely elderly woman who's 89. Next to her laid a black English man, and across from her
another lady. I was checking her IV pump and making small talk when she pointed next to me and said,
the black one was out for a bit. Huh? I thought to myself, did she really just tell me the patient
next to her, the black one, left the room for a bit? I told her, ma'am, we don't talk about people in that
way. We don't say the black one when referring to your neighbor patient. She looked at me with a
thousand question marks above her head. I looked back at her, also confused. Then she said,
What? The black cable was out of the pump for a bit.
The black one wasn't the person next to her. It was the charging cable.
I felt an immediate feeling of cringe in my heart.
The lady looked at me and started laughing incredibly hard.
The other lady across from her also started laughing at my miscommunication.
I started apologizing like crazy.
I'm so sorry. I really thought you meant the man laying next to you by the way you pointed and said that.
She started laughing even harder.
Have you ever been laughed at by an 89-year-old grandma? It hits hard.
My head turned red out of shame, and I kept apologizing to the lady.
I'm glad the man spoke English only and didn't have a clue why the ladies were laughing at me.
Eventually, I left the room, embarrassed. My cheeks all flushed and red.
Behind me, I still heard those ladies giggling together at my mistake.
I guess at least I tried to speak up for someone, even though it wasn't necessary.
Down in the comments, we have this story from Max.
There's a story, probably apocryphal, about an emergency department that categorized its patients by urgency,
with the color black being the least urgent.
One evening, when they got seriously busy due to a big trauma or something,
the lead nurse said overly loudly to the receptionist,
send all the black patients home.
As it was South London, there was nearly a riot.
Today I effed up by inadvertently bullying a guy for four years in high school with a marvel nickname.
This didn't happen today, but the realization still hits me with a wave of pure cringe whenever I think back on it.
Back in high school in the 90s, I knew a kid named David Barnes.
Being a fan of comic books, my brain immediately connected his name to Bucky Barnes,
Captain America's sidekick slash the Winter Soldier.
So naturally, I started calling him Bucky.
I used it as a friendly nickname for years.
Every time I saw him in the halls or in class, it was,
Hey, Bucky, or what's up, Bucky?
He never pushed back, got visibly upset, or told me to stop,
so I just assumed he was cool with it and got the reference.
Fast forward to graduation day.
We were hanging out, and for some reason,
it occurred to me that I'd been using his nickname for four straight years
without ever confirming if he actually knew why I called him that.
I turned to him and asked,
Hey, you know why I've been calling you Bucky all this time, right?
He looked at me with this deadpan, slightly defeated,
expression and said, yeah, of course, because of my buck teeth. My heart instantly sank to my
stomach. It turns out he had no idea who Bucky Barnes was. For four entire years, this poor guy
thought that I was relentlessly mocking his physical appearance to his face every single day,
and he just accepted it as his reality. Today I effed up by taking three laxatives at once,
because I was desperate. I've been put on Ozympic because I have PMOS and had developed insulin resistance.
I've been taking it for two weeks now and I've fallen victim to the constipation side effect.
My last bowel movement being four days ago. I was feeling bloated and uncomfortable,
so I gave in and bought loxatives, then took three before bed, hoping to clear the blockage when I wake up.
I woke up an hour after my alarm was supposed to ring, meaning I had to leave my house
ASAP to get to work on time. I didn't think about pooping at all until I was at work and counting the
till for the opening. I felt like I just had to fart, so I just let it rip. Big mistake, it was not
just a fart. It was a mess. I was supposed to be manning the store alone today. I had to put up a
sign saying that were closed due to electrical issues and cried into my phone to my roommate as I
clean myself up and tried to wash off my pants. I waited an hour for her to come and rest. I
me with a new change of clothing. Then I had to explain to my manager why I opened the store
two hours late. Opie, I think the real today I effed up wasn't taking three laxatives. It was
trusting a fart after you'd taken three laxatives. That's a rookie mistake, Opie. Today I
effed up by taking a nap so hard I showed up to work nine and a half hours early. I got off work
at 2 p.m. came home, took a bath, ate, went to my room, and started scrolling on my phone.
Apparently, my body decided, that's enough consciousness for today, because I passed out.
I woke up around 7.30 from the deepest sleep known to mankind, looked at the clock, and my
confused butt immediately thought that it was 7.30 a.m. the next day. Mind you, my shift started
at 5 a.m., so I jumped up like, oh no, I'm two and a half hours late for work. I got dressed in a
panic and hauled myself to work. I got there thinking, man, why is it?
this busy at 7.30 in the morning. I walked inside the clock in, and my boss was looking at me like
I'd completely lost my mind. I explained the whole situation, and she immediately started laughing.
Then she hit me with, O.P., it's not 7.30 a.m. Friday morning. It's 7.30 p.m. Thursday night.
I just stood there for a second while my brain rebooted, and then started laughing my butt off.
Apparently, I took a nap so powerful that I time traveled, skipped the rest of Thursday, missed the
first two and a half hours of an imaginary Friday shift and showed up to work nine and a half
hours early for my actual shift. Yeah, I'm going back home. Clearly, I've done enough for today.
That was our slash today I effed up. And if you like this content, be sure to follow my podcast
because I put out new Reddit podcast episodes every single day.
Two and five Canadians will hear the words you have cancer. That's why every step and dollar
raised matters. On September 19th, join thousands and
for the Princess Margaret Cancer Foundation Walk.
Challenge yourself, friends, and family to walk 21 kilometers in support of life-saving research.
Together, we can carry the fire and help create a world free from the fear of cancer.
Register today at pmcfwalk.ca.ca.
