Clinicals are hysterical. I’m with the greatest group of people, and we get along awesomely. So many crazy things have happened already, where to begin?
We do everything in pairs this summer. We are on a colorectal and bariatric floor, but we actually see a little bit of everything, med/surg related. Fun stuff. Last week, my partner and I went in to give a young man a bed bath. As if that wasn’t challenge enough, he was on precautions, so we had to gown and glove up before going in, and couldn’t leave the room just to grab something if we forgot it. That would require another ten minute process of de-gowning and gloving, getting the thing, and re-gowning and gloving. So, we had to be prepared. I hadn’t done a bed bath on an adult in years; I was used to preemies. I’m not sure if my partner had ever done one. So we walk in the room, introduce ourselves, take his vitals, and ask if he wants a bath. Honestly, nothing can make you feel more stupid and incompetent than fumbling around while executing a simple task. Case in point, I was trying to put down one of the side rails on his bed; I tried everything I could think of, and he is sitting there, looking at me, most likely thinking, if this woman can’t get a bedrail down, I don’t think I want her helping me! My partner came around, pushed in the little catch that would release it, and down it went. I was like, “Riiiiiggggghhhhttt”. Uh-huh. I’ll just go ahead and figure out the dosage for your pain meds and anti-seizure meds now. And I bet you’re so glad that you have a nurse doing that who can’t figure out how to work a bedrail.
One of my other clinical mates was telling me about how she went in to take a manual blood pressure on a patient. As she was attempting to do this, a group of doctors and residents walk in and watch her. So of course, she gets super nervous (who wouldn’t?) and puts on the cuff the wrong way. And then inflates it, and tries to get her stethoscope off from around her neck and up to her ears, but it gets caught in her nametag, so she is standing there, fumbling around, nametag-and-stethoscope soup on her chest, with everyone watching her,and a backwards-placed cuff. Hilarious. On our first day a few weeks ago, she took what she thought was Purell and put it on her hands to disinfect as she was walking into a room, and it turned out to be soap. So she is standing there, trying to rub it in, and it just keeps getting frothier and stickier, not disappearing like Purell should. What the heck was going on? Then someone realized she had put soap on. The thing is, she is an incredibly smart person and will be an excellent nurse. But when we are being watched and under pressure to know what we are doing, we all make the stupidest asinine mistakes.
And today, our shoes started squeaking when we walked. Both she and I have identical Danskos, and they’ve been silent thus far. For whatever reason, though, today, they both decided to squeak, and be annoying about it. People could hear us coming probably even if we were walking in from Pennsylvania. Oh, the best part about our uniforms is the totally 80’s vibe they give off. Honestly. 100% polyester, tapered leg, elastic waist, all white shoes and formless scrub top are the ingredients for a totally hot nurse. And by totally hot I mean it literally. Some one could come to me and say, “Stef, how hot is it today?” And I would answer, “You mean in my pants or outside? Because outside it is 85. In my pants its easily 125.” They don’t breathe. And, the tapers at the ankles really make the look. Last week, we got some whistles while walking down the street after clinical to catch our train. Yes, boys, take a good look. You won’t see such stylish scrubs again, I’m sure. We’re the stuff the late 80’s were made of.
But I love it! I am collecting crazy stories about nursing school by the bucketful. And this is just the first summer.
Oh, one more thing. There are some very very good looking young doctors and a very cute murse (not a typo -- male nurse = murse) that we see when we are there. It is very difficult to restrain ourselves from asking them obvious questions just to talk to them. Today, I couldn’t resist. This guy looked like a more grown up, buffer version of Harry Potter with an amazing smile, wearing the white doctor’s coat, no wedding ring. (Yes, I did look. What can I say?) I did have a legitimate question about a slightly hypertensive systolic BP, but I guess I didn’t necessarily have to ask him. I could have asked someone else. But because I am in a program with mostly all women, and very much starved for straight male contact, he was a sitting duck. His helpful and friendly smile cinched it. I ambled over to him, oh so suavely, and said, in a low, throaty voice, “Well hey there Dr. Studly, could I ask you a quick question? What are you doing later? Care to get together and discuss vital signs?” And he took me in his arms and said, "Baby, you're the only vital sign I need! You make my temperature rise and my blood pressure prehypertensive!" And I say, "Dr. Studly, prehypertensive according to Cornell's standard or AMA's? Because AMA says anything above from 120/80 to 140/95 is prehypertensive but Cornell has a slightly different take..." No, just kidding! But I did give him a big smile. What really happened: I walked over to him and excused myself for interrupting him, but was wondering if he could tell me what would cause an abnormally high systolic BP, while the diastolic was still within normal range? Very matter-of-fact, very professional. Little did he know that I thought he was adorable, and would have sat there, talking to him about anything, even the different sizes of sterile gauze, for hours. He was very helpful and kind, and I walked away trying to think of other questions to ask him. I couldn’t think of any. Sigh. A day in the life of a student nurse.
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