So, I was in skills lab today, and we were practicing vital signs. It was a real gas, I tell ya.
We took turns pretending to be patients, then we’d switch, and we’d get to pretend to be nurses.
Right now, that’s all this feels like…pretend. Like an elaborate game of dress up!!
This morning, I was pretending to be the patient, and Ned, a fellow classmate from the Middle East (I don’t really know if/why that’s relevant, but, just imagine his thick Middle Eastern accent, it makes the story cooler!) was palpating my brachial pulse.
Don’t tell my husband, okay?
Ned was palpating, I was kicking ass at my role, laying in the bed…and after several minutes longer than it should’ve taken my dear friend Ned, he said, “Nikki, I think you have too much adipose tissue. I can’t feel your pulse.”
Using big words and a fancy accent, I was pretty sure Ned just called me fat.
I snatched my arm from Ned, and said, “Excuse me?”
He said, “Adipose tissue. On the inside of your arm. There’s too much. I can’t feel your pulse.”
By the by…we’re talking about the inside of my elbow people!!! Probably the skinniest part of my body!
Half joking, half wanting to rip Ned’s trachea out of his nuchal area )if we’re using our big nursing words, and all!!), I said, “Yeah…I heard ya, Ned. And I dare you to say it again!”
We all laughed, because that’s what girls do when dudes call us fat, we laugh. It’s so we don't cry.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, my Tale of One Fatty gets worse…
After lunch, Ned was trying to hear my blood pressure and asked the instructor to listen with him to make sure he was doing it right. Cool. I’m still kicking ass, laying my fat-elbowed ass in the bed, pretending to be the patient.
Ned fumbled and struggled to hear my pressure (are we sensing a pattern here? Maybe I’m not fat…maybe Ned sucks! I wish…) and the professor shut it all down, and in front of an audience of six, said, “Wait a minute. Maybe it’s the cuff size. Let’s measure. Maybe we need the bigger cuff.”
My blood pressure, had Ned’s ass been able to correctly assess it, shot through the fucking roof!!
“Really? Really? This one’s good. Please don’t go get the fat-girl cuff,” I said, desperately.
The professor tried to make me feel better, with, “Oh no. It’s not a fat girl cuff…it’s an adult X-Large cuff. Some people just need bigger cuffs!” If I was grading her attempt at comforting me…she would’ve gotten an F!!!
Right there on the pretend hospital bed, in the pretend hospital room, with a host of pretend nurses around me, while pretending to be a patient (a fat one, apparently), I died a little!
Today, in Nursing School, I learned how to take a blood pressure, but more importantly, I learned that the inside of my elbow’s are fat, and if you’d like to assess my blood pressure, you’ll have to locate the largest fucking cuff you can find!!
And as for Ned? Ned’s dead, Baby…Ned’s dead!!