Buckle up, because this story was so rage-inducing, it had me Googling “how to get a medical license revoked” from my couch. Yeah. So. You know those moments when you think, “Surely, this can’t get worse”? Welcome to one woman’s actual nightmare — the day she broke her arm and a doctor decided she didn’t deserve treatment because she had the audacity to… cry.
Wait? Cry? Yes, cry. While in agonizing pain. Like a human being.
Meet our hero, Sarah (aka @sarahtheseven on TikTok). Sarah shows up to the ER with a legit snapped-in-half arm. Not bruised. Not sore. Broken. Like, “I saw the X-ray, and my whole body cringed” broken.
She’s expecting a quick reset, maybe some pain meds, and a pat on the head for surviving. Instead, she meets Ricky. Dr. Ricky, if you’re nasty (and he is).
Apparently, Dr. Ricky looked at her visibly broken limb and said, “Huh, it’s a holiday weekend. Let’s just wait a few days.” Yes. He put her fractured arm on layaway so he wouldn’t have to miss getting white-girl-wasted at a BBQ while mansplaining to women how giving birth doesn’t even hurt that much.
To absolutely no one’s surprise, four days later, her arm was still VERY broken and now Ricky’s talking about how whoever delayed care committed malpractice.
Sir, it was YOU. You are the malpractice!
But Sarah stayed calm, like a BAWSS, fighting the urge to throw him under his own bus. She was just trying to get her arm fixed and maybe, just maybe, stop living like a human T-Rex. So she tears up a bit because, let’s remember, HER ARM IS IN ACTUAL SHAMBLES, and honestly, that level of frustration would bring anyone to tears.
What does Dr. Ricky do? He pulls out his imaginary clipboard and goes, “Oh no, no. You’re crying. You’re not a candidate for a manual reset anymore. We’re gonna have to slice and dice instead.”
I’m sorry. WHAT? Since when is pain a dealbreaker for getting treatment? If crying disqualified you from medical care, every woman who’s ever gotten a Pap smear while holding back tears of existential rage would be permanently banned from health insurance.
And sadly, it got worse! Sarah pleads with this man. “I’m strong,” she says. “I gave birth without meds,” she says. “I just really want my bones back where they belong,” she probably says. And this man, this medically trained adult human male, says: “Birth isn’t painful. It’s natural. This? This is real pain.”
Excuse me while I go dig a hole and scream into it until Dr. Ricky grows a uterus.
So Sarah gets denied treatment. Again. Because she cried. Because she’s too “emotional” to have her bones snapped back into place like a stoic little (emphasis on little) warrior.
Because Dr. Ricky didn’t feel like doing his actual job. Instead, he schedules her for surgery she doesn’t even want and tells her, essentially, “Welp, too bad you didn’t get this fixed earlier. Could’ve saved us all a lot of trouble.”
I mean, my soul would have left my body.
But hang in there! Our heroine doesn’t give up. She drives herself right back to the ER, probably clutching her snapped arm bones like a toddler gathering toys for a 3 minute car ride. She arrives at the ER and what happens? They reset it. Like it’s no big deal. Like she didn’t just go through a four-day Head Game Olympics with Dr. Ricky, M.D. in Emotional Sabotage.
And just when you think it’s over, guess who she gets referred to for follow-up care? YUP. Dr. Ricky, the “Fear Does Not Exist In This Dojo” Surgeon. And guess who refuses to see her because she didn’t agree to his $10,000 arm-cutting fantasy? ONCE AGAIN… Ricky.
If this isn’t a textbook case of medical gaslighting and grade-A misogyny, I don’t know what is. Sarah cried because she was in excruciating pain. Because she’s a person. Because bones aren’t supposed to bend that way, RICKY! And instead of helping her, this doctor decided her emotions invalidated her injury.
To Sarah, I say, you are a hero for surviving that nightmare. And to Ricky? Enjoy your next long weekend, buddy. May no woman with a spine (broken or otherwise) ever cross your path again.
