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The Worst Infertility Nurse Possible
To read more of Lori Shandle-Fox's Trust Me: Laughing IS Conceivable blogs, CLICK HERE.
Fertility Authority.com, in case you haven't seen it right there on the left, names a "Nurse of the Month" every month. It's a great honor. It just, in my opinion, doesn't go far enough.
I think with the acknowledgment, the "Nurse of the Month" should also receive the Medal of Honor for bravery ... or combat pay ... something.
"Infertility Nurse" certainly is not a job for everyone, like me for instance.
The ideal infertility nurse should be caring, compassionate and tolerant ... very tolerant. Comatose-level tolerant. Tolerant enough to deal with us — the emotionally freaked out, the physically stressed out and the financially tapped out — hour after hour, day in and day out, without choking us.
Personally I think that's asking a bit much. If I for some absurd reason were to become an infertility nurse, I could not guarantee that I wouldn't throttle someone. If I were you, I wouldn't let my hands within 10 feet of any infertile woman's throat.
I wouldn't even let me return phone calls.
"Look, why do you people have to call me after office hours? I have a life too you know. You people take this "on call" thing too seriously. It's not like I get paid overtime or anything."
"Stop your whining already. All you people do is kvetch, kvetch, kvetch."
"It's all about you isn't it? I'll have you know, I went to KFC today for lunch, and they only had grilled chicken available ... at lunchtime. How ridiculous is that? Do you think those 20 cars in the drive-thru were lined up waiting for grilled chicken?
Who goes to KFC for grilled chicken unless you're trying to justify your mashed potatoes with gravy and mac and cheese or you got out-voted by your group and ended up at KFC?
So, I didn't get the lunch I really wanted, but you don't hear me complaining do you? See, other people, not just you, have bad things going on in their lives that they have to deal with too."
"Hi, this is Nurse Lori. I'll be doing your insemination tomorrow. Just a courtesy call to see how you're doing and to remind you to shower and shave your legs before your appointment."
"The two-week wait got its name because you have to wait two weeks to find out if you're pregnant. Could you not call me every single day for two weeks? I promise you: I have no insider information."
I also would be too expensive to hire. In addition to my own salary, I would require a personal body guard. Look, we infertile women are perpetually on our last nerve and always hepped up on hormones ... any one of us could flip out at any given moment.
And anyway, I think it would make more sense to hire a body guard to stand next to me throughout the day than have me call security after each patient.
"Angela Jones! Security!"
It also would be practical for squeamish patients.
"Okay, don't look at the needle. Just concentrate on the nice big burly man ... Okay, done! You did great! Thanks Victor."
He also would serve yet another purpose: Lifeguard.
In case a patient got me particularly irritated, he could keep me from choking them. I told you I couldn't guarantee that I wouldn't.