Tour de E.D.

This week began with me having to drive to Grand Blanc to go to Genesys Health Park Hospital and a take a tour of the emergency department there--an EMT class requirement. What's worse, I was told to "dress professionally." Me being the fat piece of shit that I am, when I hear the words "dress professionally" I break out into a cold sweat and frantically start making deals with God (i.e., "I promise, God, if I can just look good for this one day, I'll never eat another donut ham hamburger."). It's times like these I wish maternity clothes weren't just for pregnant people.

So, I put on my old standby: some gray "officey" pants with a hidden elastic waistband, a "drapey" black cardigan thingy, a $5 Wal-Mart necklace, and ballet flats (though I'm the farthest thing from a ballet dancer you'll probably ever see).

When I arrived at Health Park, I stressed for a good 10 minutes about whether to leave my coat and purse in the car or take them with me. The FPOS (Fat Piece Of Shit) in me wanted to wear my coat inside (Fat logic: coats cover up my fat!) and bring my purse (Fat logic: if, all of a sudden, I feel ashamed of myself, I can pretend to be digging around for something in my purse while I discreetly wipe the tears from my eyes!) But alas, I decided to be brave and go coat-less and purse-less. I clipped my hospital ID badge to my sweater and walked in with my head held high (or, as high as I can hold my head, because my body has started storing a good amount of fat there and I'm starting to get neck-aches).

We were to meet in the Atrium--a cross between a swank hotel lobby and that smelly fake-jungle warehouse where they keep all the exotic birds at the zoo. There was a lady selling flowers. There was a piano that played by itself. There were real, live trees! And of course, there were my EMT classmates, all gathered in a huddle, making crude jokes and poking each other--just like 7th graders at a school dance. I didn't see my one and only friend from class (an outspoken (some might say loudmouth) older woman who is pretty much hated by the rest of the class, but who I feel sorry for), so I sort of edged my way up to the group and just stood there. I looked around to see what everyone else was wearing, comforted by the fact that if I had to dress up they did too. What did I see? Jeans. Jeans. Jeans. Ripped jeans. And: Tennis shoes. Dirty work-boots. T-shirts. Thong sandals! Oh. My. God. I could have fainted. But I knew that in this crowd, that would only please people--because they'd get to show off how much they know about medicine and shout things like, "Give me some room here! I need some room here people!"

So, I didn't faint. I decided to shove my annoyed-ness waaaay down into the pit of my stomach and probably take it out on the dog later. Finally, mercifully, the tour began. We were taken downstairs to the emergency department and shown all around--the ambulance bay, the triage room, the "B" side (where they take the less injured patients), etc.

I know I shouldn't compare things to TV. After all, life is nothing like TV, relationships are nothing like they are on TV...I mean, for crying out loud--TV makes Long John Silver's look like a good place to eat! But, I continually expect TV magic in my real life, or maybe I just hope for it. But no...the Emergency Department at Genesys Health Park was nothing like the Emergency Department at the fictitious County General on NBC's E.R. And, I wish it was. I just kept looking around thinking, this is the rest of your life, Liz. This is the life you have chosen for yourself. Gurneys. Metal carts with needles on them. Antiseptic. Heart-breakingly cheerful cartoon scrubs. A strange, poopy stench in the air. It can all seem pretty depressing at nine in the morning, especially if you're surrounded by a group of classmates who pretty much shun you and most especially if you've been tricked into wearing fancy pants and trouser socks.

The paramedic showing us around assured us that the Emergency Department gets a lot busier later in the day, and as I listened to him talk with passion about why he loves his job so much, I snapped out of my bad mood and remembered why I decided to become a nurse (and an EMT) in the first place--medicine is damn exciting. And, it's an honor to be the one who gets to help people, who gets to be there for them in their time of need.

I may not fit in in EMT class, but I fit in in the world of medicine. And guess what? Scrubs are damn comfy.