Nurse Goodbody? Okayokayokay...Nurse Ratchett here.......

A Dollar’s Worth

By Alisa Dollar

Unlike some, I never wanted to be a nurse. The thought of bedpans make me shudder.

The closest I came was when I tried to give husband allergy shots–back when they were allowed to be given at home. In fact, now that I think on it, I wonder if I’m the reason real nurses have to give them now?

Allergens were pin-pricked into squares on his back, which is how he found out he’s allergic to chicken and turkey. He always said they were called fowl for a reason. It’s a good thing he isn’t a preacher because fried chicken is a prerequisite!

Most of his allergies were ragweed and molds. Something was brewed, stewed, and concocted to protect him. Since he deemed himself too busy to stop by the doctor’s office for the nurse to give shots, he appointed me to give them.

The thought of sticking a needle full of some weird juice into husband’s arm would be a no brainer. That’s what “he” though anyway.

A friend, a local school nurse, took it upon herself to teach me to give shots. I now know she feared for husband’s arm, but at the time I thought it was very nice of her to have me over for coffee while I practiced on oranges and towels.

There is an art to giving shots. You have to know your needle, medicine, and patient. I already knew husband hated shots. He wasn’t afraid of them; he just didn’t want a stranger poking him with a needle.

I became quite the expert on oranges. I didn’t like towels, but nurse said skin types were different even though I assured her husband was definitely an orange.

The day arrived. I had alcohol prep, medicine and the syringe. I was shocked the needle was so skinny and short. I’d practiced with long, fatter ones. I wanted a real needle even though I had a feeling of power filling the syringe.

Husband turned his head while I rubbed alcohol everywhere. I couldn’t decide where to poke. I pinched up skin, shut my eyes and whammed it in. When I opened my eyes, it was in the wrong place so I jerked it out.

Husband came unglued at that point but b y then I had it in the right place and squeezed in the meds before he could yelp again.

Husband decided he had time to stop by the doctor’s office.

My nursing days abruptly ended. Go figure.