Another OPD story. A sixty-five year-old man sits down at the chair beside my table. He confirms his name. I introduce myself as Dr. Hollister.

"Nice to meet you, nurse," he replies.

"I'm a doctor," I correct him. He ignores me.

I ask him about his current health -- he comes in for regular monitoring of his diabetes. I ask him if he's been compliant with his meds and his diet.

"Of course, nurse," he says.

"I'm a doctor," I correct him a second time. Again, he doesn't acknowledge my correction, acting as if I had said nothing.

I tell him his blood tests are looking good. That he should keep up with his compliance. And we should see him in six months' time.

"Thank you, nurse," he says.

I stare at him. He has the audacity to look nonchalant. At this point, I no longer bother to correct him. I silently give him his prescription, follow-up paperwork, and follow-up blood test appointment sheet. He leaves.

I'm in a bad mood for the rest of the day.