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Marie’s Blog – Superheroes In Clogs

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Hello Internet! I just got off the phone with a friggin’ superhero. Her name is Beryl. She is a nurse.

Nurses are superhuman geniuses. Did you know this? I bet not.

Oh sure, we all think doctors are the big dogs, because they have the TV shows about the teeny women and extremely handsome men running around in scrubs saving lives in the OR.

But let me tell you something: When your husband is peeing in a bag and you’re starting to worry that he’s never going to regain the use of his… God-given area, there is no sweeter sight in the world than a nurse walking into your husband’s hospital room and announcing, “Alrighty, Hank, time to say bye-bye to Mr. Catheter!”

I’m not dissing doctors — if you’ve been shot, you will definitely need a doctor to find all the bullets and get them out of you, plus making sure you don’t die before, during or after. And in the weeks after that surgery, the doctors will turn up once in a while, asking questions and slurping Starbucks.

But the nurses will be your new best friends. They’ll come in and out of your room every day, checking on you, warning you away from the (totally disgusting) scrambled eggs on the room service menu, and towards the (surprisingly tasty) chicken quesadilla, talking the doctors into pushing your blood tests out every eight hours so you can sleep through the night without getting poked at 3 in the a.m….

You would think, working in the health care industry as I do, that I would have realized Nurse-Awesomeness sooner, but I really didn’t put it together until Hank’s thing. I mean, yes, I’ve met nurses at conventions and stuff, and they’ve always projected an air of calm, approachable competence that, frankly, I found annoying at the time.

But now, I feel totally different. Hank’s favorite tool is this thing called a Leatherman — he keeps one in the car, one in the kitchen, one in the Man Cave. He’s always going on and on about how there’s nothing you can’t do with a Leatherman. A nurse is like a medical Leatherman — whatever needs doing, a nurse will get it done. That is seriously badass.

Speaking of which, we have the most amazing physical therapist. Seriously? I think Chuck might be a Hank Whisperer. He just has this way of making my guy put one foot in front of the other — when all Hank really wants to do is put a foot up Chuck’s hinder.

It’s really great to see him working with Hank, and you know what? I can see the difference it’s making, even if certain Mr. Grumblepants doesn’t.

So to Chuck, and Beryl, and all the nurses and physicians’ aides, and care partners who took care of Hank when he needed it most: Thank you. You guys are so good at your jobs, it makes me a little bit sick, but in the best possible way.

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