Beware. Here comes a rant. I blame it on Kim at emergiblog. Her recent post inspired me.

I have always disliked cutesy cartoon character scrubs on anyone except pediatric or neonatal nurses. Yes, there is the issue that they give nurses an unprofessional appearance. But more importantly they are loud, unattractive, and quite simply the opposite of good taste. Can you think of any other profession that would welcome such a cheesy way of dressing? There does seem to be a generational element. The younger nurses seem to be a bit more fashion-forward, shunning the cartoon prints in favor of solids and the occasional tasteful print. I will always shun them, no matter how old I am. Long before PixelRN became a nurse she was a student of fine arts, and so she will always be an aesthetic snob. So hate me for my snobbery, but there it is.

Another thing that kind of bothers me. Cutesy nurse merchandise. You know what I mean – the cheap little trinkets that are made in China. They say things like “#1 Nurse! ” or “Nurses Call the Shots!” Or the gobs and gobs of merchandise for nurses that are imprinted with pink ribbons. Who knows if even a penny of what you buy goes to breast cancer research? Wake up people! It’s a marketing device. Oh yes. I know. I can hear some of you saying, Geez. Get over it. If you don’t like it, ignore it. I usually am one to ignore these things. There is no accounting for taste after all. But after reading Kim’s post I am thinking maybe there is something more to the issue… It’s like when you present me with some crappy figurine that says something cutesy wootsy about nurses, I am quite sure that you have no idea what it is that I actually do. My job is not what you would consider cute, not even remotely. I take care of patients who are critically ill. I watch for subtle changes in my patient’s condition. I process tons of data, so I can figure out which needs to be passed on to the physician. I use many forms of technology, and I maintain machines and drips that keep people alive. And I watch people die. I have to pump on people’s chest while they are trying to die but their family will not let them. I fight with doctors to try and get pain medicine for patients who are in agony. I clean up wounds that are black with necrosis and go straight through to the bone. I clean up blood, stool and sputum. I’m not cute and neither is my job. And if I sound burned out, well, maybe I am. But that’s for another post.

Also, why as a nurse am I expected to buy gifts and throw parties for people? It all started in nursing school, during my clinical rotations. After each rotation everyone was expected to kick in and buy a present for the instructor. I was kind of surprised by this. It seemed a little strange. Wasn’t my instructor a paid professional, doing her job? At one point did it become necessary to buy her some cheapo scented candle? But then I became a nurse and realized that this is all part of our nursing culture. As a nurse, I am expected to prepare or buy plates of food for each and every party at work. This is way more often than you would expect. The turnover is very high on my unit so there’s always a going away party. We also have many agency nurses who do three month stints. We throw them parties too. Heck we even throw them parties if they work for three months, leave for three months and then come back – We throw them a welcome back party! You may think I am exaggerating but no where is it more evident than on my ten minute trek from the parking lot to the unit at change of shift. There are streams of weary looking nurses, all carrying huge shopping bags full of food or large tupperware containers.

Okay. I hear you. You’re saying, Pixel, maybe you need to take some time off… But again, I am thinking that there are more to these issues than mere annoyance on my part…Are we perhaps using our gift-giving and food preparing as a substitute for actual communication? What if I were to say to my fellow agency nurse who is leaving the unit, “You know I really enjoyed working with you. I feel as though I gained a lot from hearing about your experiences with other hospitals. Good luck on your next assignment.” Instead I chip in for the cheesecake or bring in a big plate of brownies. So you may think I am making much ado about tchotchkes and cheesecake but here is the ironic thing: One of the most common complaints from nurses on our unit is that we don’t give each other enough feedback. Recently our retention and recruitment committee came up with a “secret pal” club to increase unit morale. And what does a secret pal do? She buys candy and trinkets for her fellow nurses. Come on people. Stop the madness.