When you hear the word nurse, what do you think of?
If you’re a guy — or, at least, me — this won’t be far off the mark:
Sadly, the reality is a lot more like this:
How did the medical industry get it so wrong?
Or is it the porn industry that got it wrong…
Either way, it’s a disparity I don’t understand. It’s not like the history of nursing has done our deepest fantasies any favors:
Yeah. That just screams sexy.
Then there’s the whole problem of scenario.
Porn: “I stubbed my toe. Can we have sex now?”
Reality: “*Hack, cough, wheeze!* I’m sick. *Achoo!* Is there somewhere I can throw up?”
Again, one of these things is not like the other. On the rare occasion I encountered an attractive nurse, I had pneumonia. Had I been single and interested, I can’t imagine any conversation that might have lead to a positive outcome.
“I promise I’m rather suave when I’m not coughing up viscous, green phlegm and carrying a 103-degree fever. Can I have your phone number?”
That would have her throwing herself across the x-ray table, wouldn’t it? I even pissed her off by ruining two x-ray films because I couldn’t hold my breath for longer than five seconds. Not to mention the whole coughing in her hair thing. (Hey, she saw my chart. She’s the one who told me to take a deep breath when I have a chestful of lungmung. She could have just fired up the nuke machine instead of busting out the stethoscope, but noooo, she had to play doctor.) In that kind of shape, I bet even George Clooney couldn’t have scored her phone number.
Of course when you’re well, hot nurses become an endangered species. Nothing beats being told to watch your cholesterol intake and to get plenty of exercise by someone who had to buy a reinforced chair. I also know of a clinic that probably had to reinforce the floor to support the nursing staff. One quickly becomes thankful that nurse uniforms are designed the way they are.
Reality sucks like that.