So, what were we talking about? Oh right. Women who voluntarily choose to become infertility nurses. I mean, I don't think any country in the world has an underground sex ring that kidnaps women and forces them into a life of infertility nursery....(nursing, nursitation)
(And I say "women" not to be horribly sexist...but of the dozens of infertility nurses whose lives I've made miserable, there was not a single man- gay, straight or indifferent among them.)
I mean, becoming a nurse is understandable---admirable even. And you have loads of forks in the career path to choose from. It's just that some of the prongs in that fork are sharper than others:
You're tough and fearless: You take a job in the emergency room.
You're impressed with wealth: You take a job in the office of a fashionable plastic surgeon.
You're out to make the world a healthier place: You take a job with "Doctors without Borders".
You want to help the sickest of the sick: You take a job with an oncologist.
You want to draw blood hour after hour, day after day from the most neurotic of the neurotic and the kvetchiest of the kvetchiest:
You take a job with a fertility specialist.
"No, I don't want to try my other arm. I want to try another nurse."
"Where's Stacy? My veins don't roll on her."
"How can she be away for two weeks? She knows I'm mid-cycle. Could she have picked a worse time to have a honeymoon? I thought "nursing" was supposed to be a selfless profession. How much more selfish could she get?"
"Last time I forgot to ask the doctor something. Before I leave, could you remind me to ask her today?"
"Is that nurse new? I mean I'm sure she's great, I'd just really rather not have anyone practice on me."
"She's not new? Well, I've been coming here for three months and I've never seen her."
"Oh, she only works part-time? But I've been here on every day of the week at some point. I mean, when you say "part-time" you don't mean "temp" like you called an agency. Yesterday she was doing telemarketing and today she's taking blood?"
"And not Anette. She takes too long. I'm not sure she knows what she's doing."
"And Pat is way too fast. Like she has a naked man waiting for her in the elevator or something. You come in the door and she jabs you in the arm before you even sit down. I'm always thinking she's going to miss my arm and stick it in my neck."
"And, could you maybe call me earlier today with my blood results? Yesterday you didn't call until 4:30 and, I'm not sure why. You know I start freaking out every day promptly at 3:45."
Listen, I gotta go. Some of the above dialogue sounds just a little too familiar. I've got a few dozen women nurses to look up and apologize to.
And please consider joining our wonderful group of blog subscribers for a weekly jam-packed newsletter.
I'll talk with ya again tomorrow.