In the roughly gorillian days since I have last visited the interwebs, I managed to get hired, finish college, and then take my official nursey-nurse boards, in the exact order. So, from this point on, you can all refer to me as HipsterNurse BSN, RN. Thank you.
Ahem.
So, since I am a hipster nurse, it would only make sense that floor nursing would be “too mainstream”, so rather than doing regular patient care, I have joined an Operating Room team where we do surgeries you have never heard of before on people who have disease that are “pretty obscure. Like, there’s only a couple of these cases, like, ever.” I count down the minutes until my patients fall asleep and then proceed to ferociously defend them from any and all harm that the surgeons may unknowingly inflict upon them.
Instead of learning lab values, I learn the names of tools uses for cutting and tearing and hurting and fixing and patching. While others fear a code blue, I prepare myself for the terrifying Malignant Hyperthermia Crisis. The floor talks a good talk about teamwork, but real teamwork is groping around your attending’s butt trying to find the pager that they forgot to take off BEFORE they scrubbed in and gowned up, all the while thinking about how fast you’ll have to run to replace the tool they just threw on the floor. Again.
It’s a unique environment – we are the weird nurses among nurses who, as a collective whole, are a weird group of people. We have to be to actually enjoy being immersed in a world of all the disgusting bodily fluids and needy cranky people ever. It’s a pretty great, unique career. And for the record, Grey’s Anatomy is completely inaccurate as far as what surgery is like. For real. We aren’t nearly that glamorous, our hair never looks so fabulous after surgery, and there is not a single person that makes our scrubs look appealing.
Meanwhile, my time in my drywall-box of an apartment, decorated in shade of beige with accent of taupe in nearing an end, and as such, I will soon be posting about all the lovely hipster ways that I will make my apartment totally hip and ironic. Now if you pardon me, I have to go clean the grit out of my vinyl sso the analog sounds sounds better than you digital media garbage.
Just kidding. I don’t own any vinyls.