Ch. 2: The Murse

Starting clinical rotations as a junior medical student is rough. But perhaps the most intimidating rotation of all is surgery. The OR is a scary place, full of rules, both written and unwritten, and there is an exact protocol you must follow at all times in order to not contaminate anything, as you try to keep the environment as sterile as possible. You feel a bit like a bull in a china shop at first, trying not to touch anything or get in the way, yet at the same time trying to help out and make your presence known to impress those inherently grumpy attendings.

My first surgical rotation three months into my clinical year was Orthopedic Surgery. Stereotypes exist for a reason, as most “orthopods” as they are commonly called are, in fact, former jocks. It is 100% a boys club, complete with raunchy jokes, womanizing, power tools and pushups between cases (kidding about that last part…sort of). My first day of Orthopedic surgery I remember being glad that I had my surgical mask on as it hid my fear that I’m sure my mouth gave away in some form as I have a big mouth and an expressive face and most people know immediately what I am thinking without my having to say a word.

The Ortho trauma attending was a large intimidating man, as were his residents. They all turned toward me with half-hearted interest as I walked into the scrub area and introduced myself, feeling a bit like an intruder in the men’s locker room after football practice. They were nice enough, told me to scrub in and get my gloves and gown ready. Being it was my first time in the OR I had zero idea where anything was, as it is a complicated yet organized system that takes some time to learn. As I stood there, helpless, yet not wanting to bother them again with such a lame question of “so where are these gloves…?” my guardian angel in scrubs suddenly appeared.

At first glance he was relatively unremarkable, and similar to the appearance of the rest of us in our generic blue uniforms, scrub caps, and mask. But then I looked into his eyes. The most beautiful shade of blue-green, they were kind, and I could tell he was smiling at me underneath his mask. “Hi, I’m Sam,” he said. I’m sure I croaked out my name back, but I was too enamored to really remember. “You must be the new medical student?” he said without a hint of condescension or judgement.

Sam showed me where the gloves were, and more. He taught me about the layout of the OR, where to stand, and what excited me most was that he tied my gown for me. Surgery is sexy in it’s own right, and sometimes Grey’s Anatomy isn’t too far off. As I stood there by a patient with his mangled leg that my attending and resident were trying to piece back together, I quickly grew bored of watching and began daydreaming about Sam. Where is he from? What is he doing here? I wonder how old he is-he didn’t look that old, definitely thirties, he had some greys sprinkled within the luxurious wavy brown hair poking out underneath his scrub cap? Is he married…I didn’t see a ring! I must find out the answers!!

As that case ended and we prepped for the next one, I found the chance to talk to Sam. I learned he was from a nearby state, and that he was the circulating nurse for the orthopedic rooms, usually the trauma room. The circulating nurse is kind of second-in-command to the surgeons, as they go get supplies and make sure everything is functioning as smoothly as possible during the operation. I had not met many male nurses, especially ones that were within my dating age range and smoking hot.

 I was only on Ortho surgery for two weeks before switching to something else, so my time with Sam was brief but glorious. He was the bright spot in my otherwise not-so-bright days, and I credit him fully for helping me survive my roid-raging, tantrum-throwing intern and frustration at being relegated to suction and traction duty (really all you get to do as a third year, anyways). I’m a huge wimp and thought it would be too forward to just ask Sam out, and so when the time came to say goodbye I was kind of hoping he would make some sort of offer to continue our two weeks of flirtation maybe over coffee, dinner, or his bed. But much to my disappointment, Sam was not working during my last day! Huge bummer.

Over the weekend I realized I couldn’t give up so easily; hot, no wait, make that DECENT and dateable men are hard to find in Augusta, GA. I had finally found one after 3 years, and this was my chance. I had to talk to him again. I decided to turn to the Yellow Pages of my generation for help: Facebook.

So I knew his name was Sam Morrison, and although generic, surely he would be the only one at my school with that name.  To my surprise though, there were two Sam Morrisons listed at my school. One of them was a medical student two years below me, so definitely not it. The other one for whatever reason, had very little information and no profile picture! That’s odd, I thought. Oh well, what do I have to lose? If it’s the wrong one, I’ll just defriend him later, no harm done. A day or two later my eyes lit up as I received an email stating Sam had confirmed my friend request!! Yes!!!

But my excitement was short-lived. As I pulled up his facebook page, I did the usual scan: Profile pic? Check! A cute one too, he was water-skiing, ok, so he’s outdoorsy, that’s good. Age? 36-ok, not too bad, I like older men. Relationship Status? M.A.R.R.I.E.D.

What the F??? Married? Um, where was your ring buddy? And how come you never brought up your wifey in any of our in retrospect not-so-deep conversations, huh? I felt betrayed. The good ones are seriously always taken. Although disappointed, I finished my scan by habit; employment, hobbies, wall, photos, friends….strangely, he had no other pictures and no wall posts. That’s weird, I thought. Is he just a huge loser, or what??

As I got down to the friend sidebar I was even more shocked by what I saw. Sam only had 1 friend….me. What the hell? How is that possible?? At the time facebook’s interface had a section that told how long someone had been a member. As I scrolled back up I realized why I was his only friend-he had JUST joined facebook, like 3 days ago. Whoa.

The gravity of my impulsive internet stalking didn’t really set in until the next day, when I told my friends over dinner what happened. My med school classmates love teasing me about the stupid shit I manage to do, and this situation was no different. Of course they all wanted to see this murse who had stolen my heart, so I pulled up his facebook page so we could all have a laugh.

But the joke was on me. After the debate about his hotness status, I noticed he had actually added a few pictures, and more importantly, the name of his wife. I am very methodical about my checking out of the opposite sex on FB and have an algorithm that keeps me on track. Step 1) Are they married or in a relationship? Step 2) If no--> proceed to picture stalking. If yes--> check out wife or girlfriend to assess for hotness equality in the relationship. Step 3.1) If significant other hotness is greater than or equal to object of interest, shrug your shoulders and move on, content that even if said object isn’t with you, at least he’s with someone of equal or greater hotness than you so life is probably fair. Step 3.2) If significant other’s hotness is LESS than object of desires hotness--> bitch and moan to friends or mother how life isn’t fair and why is he wasting time with HER when he could do so much better.

I wasn’t quite mentally prepared to see the wife yet so I scrolled down to see if he had any more friends. Friend count was now TWO…me, and….his wife. My mouth immediately dropped open and my friends started howling in laughter as I stared at the screen in disbelief.

My sarcastic and best med school friend Catie between fits of laughter managed to get out: “Wait a minute, so you added him as a friend basically the second before he joined facebook, before even his wife?!” Yep, that pretty much sums it up. As the night grew darker and the wine bottles emptier, we debated on how I could bow out of this situation as gracefully as possible. I couldn’t defriend him now,  because that would totally be obvious since I made up 50% of his friendship pool, and then he would think I was REALLY psycho. Messaging him to apologize for the awkwardness was also out of the question, because what if the wife hadn’t noticed? Then I would be bringing it out in the open, and things might be even more awkward. We agreed the only prudent course of action would be to wait until the friend pool went up to at least 20-30 people, then I could defriend possibly without him noticing? Men are oblivious anyways.

As the next few weeks went by I waited in angst as the friend count went up agonizingly slow. Four, then seven…nine…ten. Argh! Doesn’t this guy have any friends?! Geez!!! I had thankfully moved to another surgery service in the hospital across the street, so chances of crossing paths were slim, yet all the while my radar was up for those blue-green eyes and kind smile. I mean, he must totally think I was CRAZY-who does that?? And what does his wife think? I’m sure she added him, and was shocked to find that her beloved husband’s facebook friend virginity had already been stolen by some stupid medical student. I can only imagine how that conversation went:

Wife: “So…Sam, who is this girl friend of yours?”

Sam: “Honestly, I barely know her. She rotated through my OR and was totally helpless. She was the first person to send me a friend request.”

Wife: “That’s weird. So you guys spent some time together talking huh? You sure that’s it?”

Sam: “Sweetheart, I seriously barely know her! I have no idea how she even knew my full name (name badge) or that it was me, as I hadn’t put up a profile picture yet and she had already added me as a friend! (I’m psychic) It’s really weird, don’t you think? She’s young and probably just another crazy, sexually-starved medical student (ok, so half-true).”

Wife: “uh-huh, sure.”

Finally, the friend count went up to 21, and I couldn't wait any longer. I haven't really seen Sam since, as I chose to get as far away from Augusta as possible for the remainder of my third and fourth year clinical rotations. As the shame of my awkward internet encounter faded, I must admit that I haven't quite learned from this mistake, as I still friend my crushes on FB fairly regularly. But in 2011 I think all of us have more than one friend, so I haven't encountered this particular situation again...although, I have graduated to more awkward in-person encounters.

Lesson learned: There is no dignity in Facebook.