meanest people ever

The lady who lived in the apartment above me hated me from the day she moved in. 'Til this day I still do not know why. She would stomp on the floor above my bedroom at 3am and scream are you awake now you f****** b****. Talk about startling. She would tell the office my daughter was tormenting her and I was stealing from her. I had only seen the woman a couple times and never even spoken to her. One day as I was leaving she was coming in and I held the door for her to be nice. She refused to walk through the door and told me straight out she did not like me. She waited until I closed the door so she could open it her self and walk through. I was completely dumbstruck that another adult could behave in such a way. lol!!

That I should hang myself and there would be a good place in hell for me. Also, being compared to Casey Anthony.

Yikes!


Long story. I was 25 years old and in my doctor's office (he'd been my doctor for almost 20 years) because I had found two lumps in my left breast. He had balked at ordering a mammogram and ultrasound, but I had persisted. After the radiology gig, I had gone to his office. He did a cursory, utterly half-assed exam, then proclaimed that there were no lumps (though the radiologist and rad tech had both found them easily). He snarled at me (really) to "get dressed," then told me to meet him in his office.

I went into his office (think GWH/Ernest Hemingway--a lot of plush leather, brass studs, and a big, solid mahogany desk), and he lit into me. Told me that I was a worthless POS excuse for a human being, that I was a manipulative rodent who made up a story about lumps in my breast in order to torture my family. I was a using, lazy, sociopathic monster, and he wished I DID have breast cancer because I deserved it, and the world would be a better place without me.

I knew what was going on--he had mistaken me for my older sister. I kept trying to defend myself, kept trying to tell him that I was KRIS, but he was relentless, and, eventually, he did reduce me to tears. When he finally stopped, he sat, staring at me for a few moments, and then turned to his good friend my mother (who had made no move to defend me), and said, "Oh, Jesus--I got the wrong daughter, didn't I?"

Understand that, at this time, I was dealing with a succession of increasingly abnormal pap smears, and now had lumps in my breast. I was not doing well, emotionally. He stood up, walked over, and said, "Come back to the exam room--let's have a look at those lumps."

Think about that for a moment. When he thought I was my sister, he lied and said there were no lumps. Once he figured out I was ME, there were lumps. Think about the implication there--he was willing to lie in order to let a possible cancer advance in my sister. Can you even imagine? He put his arm on mine to lead me out, and I LOST it. Told him if he touched me again I would tear his damnable arm off and feed it to him. I stormed out, left my coat (and my mother) in the rush. When I got home, he called me personally (something he never did) to tell me that I had forgotten my coat, and that he could bring it to me. I told him that my husband would pick it up. He said, "Kris, I think we should talk." I said, "Russ, I think you should shut the F@*# up and listen, because the answer you give determines whether my next call is to an attorney--you screwed up here--unbailably. You're too old and too stupid and too damned incompetent and mean to be practicing anymore. If you haven't hung it up in the next month, I'm suing the living daylights out of you."

The letters announcing his retirement went out two weeks later. His practice was closed two weeks after that.

I've had a lot of mean things said to me, but I think being told that I deserved cancer and that the world would be happier if I died was probably the worst, especially considering the source.

Kris

When I was married my husband told me that he hated me, he hoped that I would die, and that he wished that all the bad things in the world happened to me and only me. He also said that saying I do was the most pathetic thing he had ever said in his life. After 7 years... What a nice guy. LOL

That I should hang myself and there would be a good place in hell for me. Also, being compared to Casey Anthony.

Yikes!


Long story. I was 25 years old and in my doctor's office (he'd been my doctor for almost 20 years) because I had found two lumps in my left breast. He had balked at ordering a mammogram and ultrasound, but I had persisted. After the radiology gig, I had gone to his office. He did a cursory, utterly half-assed exam, then proclaimed that there were no lumps (though the radiologist and rad tech had both found them easily). He snarled at me (really) to "get dressed," then told me to meet him in his office.

I went into his office (think GWH/Ernest Hemingway--a lot of plush leather, brass studs, and a big, solid mahogany desk), and he lit into me. Told me that I was a worthless POS excuse for a human being, that I was a manipulative rodent who made up a story about lumps in my breast in order to torture my family. I was a using, lazy, sociopathic monster, and he wished I DID have breast cancer because I deserved it, and the world would be a better place without me.

I knew what was going on--he had mistaken me for my older sister. I kept trying to defend myself, kept trying to tell him that I was KRIS, but he was relentless, and, eventually, he did reduce me to tears. When he finally stopped, he sat, staring at me for a few moments, and then turned to his good friend my mother (who had made no move to defend me), and said, "Oh, Jesus--I got the wrong daughter, didn't I?"

Understand that, at this time, I was dealing with a succession of increasingly abnormal pap smears, and now had lumps in my breast. I was not doing well, emotionally. He stood up, walked over, and said, "Come back to the exam room--let's have a look at those lumps."

Think about that for a moment. When he thought I was my sister, he lied and said there were no lumps. Once he figured out I was ME, there were lumps. Think about the implication there--he was willing to lie in order to let a possible cancer advance in my sister. Can you even imagine? He put his arm on mine to lead me out, and I LOST it. Told him if he touched me again I would tear his damnable arm off and feed it to him. I stormed out, left my coat (and my mother) in the rush. When I got home, he called me personally (something he never did) to tell me that I had forgotten my coat, and that he could bring it to me. I told him that my husband would pick it up. He said, "Kris, I think we should talk." I said, "Russ, I think you should shut the F@*# up and listen, because the answer you give determines whether my next call is to an attorney--you screwed up here--unbailably. You're too old and too stupid and too damned incompetent and mean to be practicing anymore. If you haven't hung it up in the next month, I'm suing the living daylights out of you."

The letters announcing his retirement went out two weeks later. His practice was closed two weeks after that.

I've had a lot of mean things said to me, but I think being told that I deserved cancer and that the world would be happier if I died was probably the worst, especially considering the source.

Kris