poured out before bed
“Ma’am. Hey, ma’am. Ma’am!”
I start when I realize the rotund nurse is speaking to me. Ma-am, eh? I’m not used to being addressed as such. Damn. I knew I should have sprung for that wrinkle cream.
The nurse inserts herself between my fine-lined self and the restroom toward which I was headed. (I’m not so old that I’ve developed a need for Depends quite yet.)
“This is a staff-only restroom,” she quips, her jowls vibrating with the inappropriate volume of her voice.
“Oh, I am staff. I’m a med student.” I hold up my name badge, affixed to a beaded lanyard about my neck.
“Oh…well…no one can tell. You really need to wear your white coat.” She is speaking just a bit too loud for the short distance that separates us.
“Wear my white coat — to the bathroom?!”
The nurse’s round face turns red at my borderline incredulous tone. “That’s the only way we know you’re staff,” she says with conjured authority.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not wearing my white coat into the bathroom. That’s not good practice. I’m wearing my hospital issued name badge – that will be sufficient.”
I brush by the chubby, hand-on-hipped bathroom Nazi and lock the door.
As I wash my hands, my business done, I hear a familiar, demonstrative voice from the nurse charting room down the hall.
Those $&@’#%^ medical students walk around like they own the place! They think they’re such hot $&#%! And they act like they make the rules! They have NO common sense, just NONE!”
Sigh. I think I feel a new wrinkle coming on.