Going on the rounds now, everybody, follow up! The ins and outs of an O.R. at a hospital, translated…
The very first time I was in the O.R., I was, just as excited as everybody else, at the same time, filled with, a ton of, wrong misconceived, notions.
Taking off the dusts that gathered up on me out at the dressing rooms, switched into the blue clean, sanitized, scrubs, with the tied tightly to my face surgical mask, a cap that’s waterproof, sweat-resistant, becoming, a better form of myself, without the germs, I’d, stepped on that electric door pedal with my heart unsettled.
There are the tracks of orbit that every one of us is on in the O.R., with me, being, that obstructive satellite,. The residents used the iodized cotton swabs, started painting the circles onto the patients they were assigned, and under anesthesia, continued using that weird gesture, covering the patients up with the green cloth that’s germ-proof on the patients’ bodies, they are currently, structuring, the most sanctified realm of the O.R.—the germless fronts.
“Younger schoolmate, go get scrubbed up”, that was, the most gracious of words I could hear, I’d, immediately gone to the stainless sink outside the O.R., and, stepped on the foot pedals, which pumped out a whole lot of sanitation fluids, picked up that scrub that was used to scrubbing the shoes, from the fingers, to the elbows, used that special sort of method to scrub myself down completely, with my ungermed hands now, the nurses helped tied that surgical gown on my back, put on the ungermed surgical gloves, then, I finally got the chance to, enter, into, that germless stage, standing on the platform of the O.R.
illustration from UDN.com
A lot of the moves I’d just performed, I’d, used my feet for, because everybody’s hands, are in a, germ-free stat4e, if someone touches the doorknob, the germs would sound off loud in their hoorays, and god would strike us all down with thunder, which was why, everything is controlled by our feet, the pedals for the door, the power to the electric knife to cauterize, the pump for the sanitary fluids.
So long there’s that centerstage of the O.R. set in place, there’s, the specialized lighting, the lights we normally use the blind spot is called the darkness under the light, and it’s, normally, what kills a pe4rson. But there’s no such mistakes like that allowed on the center stage, the specialist light focused on the center stage, as we all hoped, that the surgery we’re performing, will be, as bright as the light we were, using today.
The O.R. is not dead silent, the key here in the music. Before the director of operations arrived, the nurses would’ve already, selected the Taiwanese oldies, and if it was the younger surgeons who are operating, then, we can expect the songs of Mayday, Yanzee Sun, or Jay Chou (which are now, slowly, becoming, “oldies” too!). One time in the middle of the nights, I’d, tagged along an emergency operation of a subdural hematoma, and everybody knew, that we’re not, getting, any sleep tonight. As the primary surgeon entered, he’d stuck that flash drive into the computer, then, Mika’s “Grace Kelly” played on through the night.
scrubbing in…
And into the more than ordinary morn, everybody’s re’ady to go. The surgeon cut that very first cut, steadily, “9:10 A.M. first cut”. The nurses in the O.R., the nurses in anesthesiology, checked with one another, then, recorded the words down on the ledgers.
And so, this was, just, another day of work, for anybody who’s a surgeon, and, this is from the experience, the encounter, the perspective of a medical profession, as he took us on the rounds, to the O.R., to the goings on around him, giving us, a closer look at, what exactly, is going on, in the operation rooms.