Sunday, May 23, 2004
Oversexed
My turn to build up a sleep debt.
Not enough hours in the day for oneself after a 12 hour shift.
Certainly not enough for oneself, and The Green Mile.
So dark.
******
Sitting down writing up casenotes, I feel someone running her hands through the back of my hair. Eh.
Oh, it's that blond sister again. No biggie, she's just being friendly, I think to myself.
Then she asks a question that is... slightly "off". Rather... lewd. Suggestive?
Mind blank. Dammit, where has my usual ready wit gone. No reply. I mutter something incoherent. Failed, by my quaking wit as the hairs on the back of my neck stand bolt upright in fear and almost pop out in a final act of hari-kiri. The other nurses start laughing about the comment.
ug.
*****
A nurse asks me to see a teenaged girl, for mumblemumblemumble.
huh? I read the cas card. Oh. Something... lost during intercourse. Cough. How delicate.
I look up. oh. She's nervous, blond, 15, and gorgeous. Mum looks upset. duh.
Um, no, I don't want to retrieve it thank you very much, the last time I did a cuscoe's exam, or a vaginal exam was.... a very long time ago. And certainly never to fish out a used contraceptive device. I politely decline and tell sister she might want to try the gynaes instead.
My penance is to talk through the side effects of the morning after pill with her (if only i knew what they were...) and discuss contraception and family planning.... wha? but. but...
(Somewhere along the way, mum, nan, and boyfriend walk in. Gods. Her boyfriend is ugly. And he looks older than me. Pause. No judgement calls.... shut up and do the job.)
Fortunately the gynae SHO shows up in time to stop me further embarrassing myself with my crass ignorance.
Not enough hours in the day for oneself after a 12 hour shift.
Certainly not enough for oneself, and The Green Mile.
So dark.
******
Sitting down writing up casenotes, I feel someone running her hands through the back of my hair. Eh.
Oh, it's that blond sister again. No biggie, she's just being friendly, I think to myself.
Then she asks a question that is... slightly "off". Rather... lewd. Suggestive?
Mind blank. Dammit, where has my usual ready wit gone. No reply. I mutter something incoherent. Failed, by my quaking wit as the hairs on the back of my neck stand bolt upright in fear and almost pop out in a final act of hari-kiri. The other nurses start laughing about the comment.
ug.
*****
A nurse asks me to see a teenaged girl, for mumblemumblemumble.
huh? I read the cas card. Oh. Something... lost during intercourse. Cough. How delicate.
I look up. oh. She's nervous, blond, 15, and gorgeous. Mum looks upset. duh.
Um, no, I don't want to retrieve it thank you very much, the last time I did a cuscoe's exam, or a vaginal exam was.... a very long time ago. And certainly never to fish out a used contraceptive device. I politely decline and tell sister she might want to try the gynaes instead.
My penance is to talk through the side effects of the morning after pill with her (if only i knew what they were...) and discuss contraception and family planning.... wha? but. but...
(Somewhere along the way, mum, nan, and boyfriend walk in. Gods. Her boyfriend is ugly. And he looks older than me. Pause. No judgement calls.... shut up and do the job.)
Fortunately the gynae SHO shows up in time to stop me further embarrassing myself with my crass ignorance.
