Bear hugger anyone?

The nurses were talking about a bear hugger the other day, I learned that in the land of hospitals a 'Bair Hugger' is a warming device. I now realise this kind of makes sense but I wonder if it is concerning that my mind went straight to some sort of bone crusher?

 

I’d say it’s probably a good thing that I am not a medically trained professional. I have been asked a few times while working here if I would consider nursing. Let’s just say the only nursing that I have ever thought of doing would only occur if I am ever blessed with a family of my own.

 

Would you agree that it takes a certain type of person to be any sort health professional? I think at least a certain quality must be possessed. I am not saying I am not a caring person. I probably feel too much. I am those pathetic types, you know that cry at movies, TV commercials and ducks crossing the street – Oh joy they made it alive!

 

Some of you might think that’s normal but I am not, I mean I cry at almost anything: Sad songs, people who sing brilliantly, the YouTube clip where the girl with cancer invites her friends for a photo shoot and they surprise her by all shaving their heads, other people crying - like MaLynne's Outburst in Steel Magnolia , Oliver’s “Because of the life I lead” speech/excuse to Felicity on Arrow , Animal abuse or neglect, ill or sad children,  and pretty much any time I think of my dad.

 

People in the medical field find a way to overcome breaking down when someone is in tears or suffering extreme pain. They no doubt feel it just as much as the next person; obviously, they are human, but they have the ability to compartmentalize it long enough to be useful.

 

I remember when my younger brother came home from school with cut above his eyebrow. It was a long gash, deep red blood poured all over his face. I don’t know how but I managed to keep it together and help him. It was weird, but I somehow became incredibly calm.

 

However, I also remember when I tried to open a bag of dried apricots with a steak knife and managed to cut open one of my fingers instead.

 

It was a pretty deep cut but as my family will tell you, if they can get through the story without laughing, the way the blood came out it looked like we were filming a cheap horror flick in my kitchen.

 

My brother was on the floor, not out of shock or concern for me, no, he was on the floor laughing his head off. Weakened by the bloody sprinkler system squirting out of my vein, I started to feel dizzy. In my, I repeat ‘weakened state’, I may have said something along the lines of “I am losing power” instead of ….pressure? I did mention it was deep cut right?

 

My point is I’d have to wonder if blood was squirting out of my brother’s head instead of pouring out that day if I might have fainted instead of being useful? I don’t know, but I am sure you would agree that I am definitely not nurse material.

 

Come to think of it I make a pretty poor patient too.

After my first and only ever Ski class I decided I was that good that I could keep up with my friends who are pretty much Skiing experts from the age of eight. My CHAOS beanie and I managed to plunge my whole leg and ski into powdered snow. When my friend realised that I wasn’t hysterically laughing and that in fact, I was very much ugly crying, she went for help, even though I begged her not to.

 

I was strapped to a stretcher and hauled off the mountain. The ambulance guys were nice enough to stop near the ski lifts. A crowd gathered, and looked down at me, while I died an excruciatingly slow death of shame.

 

I had torn a ligament and my knee looked like I was wearing a world globe as a knee guard. I just wanted to get up, although felt like I might throw up, I wanted to pretend like nothing had happened.

Looking back I feel a little bad for the ambulance guys. I was in complete flight mode, my only mission was to hobble away and die. Just like that penguin gif that went viral a few years ago, you know the one, where the penguin face plants then gets up as if nothing happened? The ambulance guys were trying to treat me and I was like, nothing to see here...move along. 

I guess this doesn't say a lot of good things about me, basically if you find me injured you should walk away and let me die because if I can't help myself then by god nobody can!

Which brings me back to the bear hugger. Why would you call a warming device something that sounds like its going to hurt you? What kind of sick humour does this equipment naming nut have? 

 

 Imagine lying there (obviously I'd be strapped down being a flight risk and all) and the nurse tells you he/she will be right back with a bear hugger. I guess the threat of crushing my bones is one way to make lay still and cooperate.

 

Hope you are all enjoying your break - till I rant again, thanks for reading.

 

 

 

 

_______________________________________________________________

Note:  To leave a comment you have to pick an option from the "Comment as" box and then press Publish.