Hospitals are great. They also suck. There are priceless moments such as sitting half naked on the edge of the bed in the middle of filling a urinal, when someone toting a broom announces “I’m here to clean the room.“ WTF? And then, oblivious to the severe invasion of my privacy, “put your mask on, sir.” I need both hands here, but okay, give me a second. She didn’t.
And the food! Dear God, is it really food? It couldn’t possibly be food unless they used an Easy Bake Oven; sunlight maybe. I can almost see an 8 year old Sally Ann in charge of an entire array of those little ovens cooking up culinary gobs of bland for one and all. So precious.
But hospitals are not a place to indulge our need for creature comforts. One doesn’t enter anticipating a spa treatment. It’s not a well-deserved week at Sandals. There are no half-dressed super models giving massages. But then, we know that going in. We expect a well oiled machine of humans and apparatus whose only purpose is to fix our respective broken asses.
And if it weren’t for nurses, society would crumble. There’d be piles of rocks and we’d be lying six feet under them. Nurses make doctors look lazy. Okay, I’m exaggerating, but nurses rock and they don’t miss anything. Doesn’t matter if they’re male or female, thin or thick, black or white, somber or funny, nurses are da bomb. Whether they’re changing that wonderful fluid at the end of your pain button, or fixing your twisted socks for you, nurses are angels from heaven and you better be nice or it’s societal execration and detestation for you, buddy.
My nurses had to bath me and I heard not one single snicker at the sight of my embarrassing post-op junk. I mean, maybe afterward in the hall there were rude comments, but I doubt it. Nurses don’t have time for that nonsense. My nurses endured all my twaddle with a smile, changed my sheets with me in the bed (an art form, by the way), got me Coke with extra ice about 50 times, scratched an itch I couldn’t reach, manipulated the blinds to my liking, somehow found a way to be constantly pleasant, and of course, managed to do all the medical stuff as well. And I wasn’t their only patient! Who’d a thunk?
Now, maybe you think I just like nurses. I do, but don’t we all? Really! I mean, show me someone who doesn’t like nurses and I’ll show you a genuine spawn of Hell. Demons don’t like nurses even when they’re sick. Satan despises them, so if you’re actually human and don’t like nurses, we all know with what crowd you’re hanging. I had 14 different nurses, and each and every one of them pure perfection. And while there were no massages by super models, or caviar in the evening, these saints are the reason that hospitals are great.
Once in awhile there’s a bad nurse. Case in point, Becky. Years ago, a very short and barely useful artery closed up, and after an hour, the blood took another route and all was well. Becky, dutifully hooked me up to the EKG stuff, but about midnight, I told her I needed a cigarette. To my astonishment, she disconnected me and told me what door to use to avoid detection. I was thrilled and deeply in love at that moment. Two smokes later, she reconnected me and I went happily to sleep. But there was a “rat” afoot, and I was definitely served the next morning. They also discovered that not a single electrode was in the proper place on my body. Poor Becky – fired on the spot. The head nurse said if she ever saw her again she’d “kill her.” Truth.
And that’s why I love nurses so much. They don’t play. It’s all about me. Us. Miss Becky was the exception that proves the rule. So to all you selfless, blessings from God’s own hand; you glorious treasures we call nurses, thank you a million times over. You deserve the best. Hospitals actually do suck. It’s the nurses that make them great.
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