Positively Mean

My husband recently had an unfortunate incident that required a visit to Reid Hospital. It was one of those awakening in the middle of the night in excruciating pain scenes of which nightmares are made. We arrived at Reid’s emergency room at 2:30ish and it was deserted save for a man riding a floor cleaning machine, which I think I could love (the machine, not the man), and a nurse seated in front of a computer behind a window in a darkened room.

I won’t go into all the nitty-gritty details, but the upshot is that she was mean, hateful and disrespectful to my husband, who was literally in agony. It was as if I had stumbled into the Twilight Zone and Nurse Ratchett jumped into the scene on a break from filming One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. It truly felt surreal in the absolute worst of ways. I was already nearly panicked and then she started with her ugliness and my good girl upbringing kicked in, so my mind was then whirring with not only thoughts of what was wrong with my husband, who was at that point lying on the floor in the middle of the room, but also thinking that it was my responsibility to make this all better and keep everybody happy. Did I mention I was starting to feel short of breath?

Okay, so the story has a happy ending in that my husband had a kidney stone. Not that anyone who has had one would apply the term happy to any part of the experience, but at least we walked out of there together, relatively pain-free and in one piece.

But I’m still irked about the witchy nurse. Why is she in a helping profession if she doesn’t want to help? I’m not saying she should be a doormat, but most people don’t choose to visit the ER for jollies. The very fact that they’re there is indicative of distress. Is it too much to expect a little compassion?

I’ve spent a lot of time in the last few years working at dealing with negativity, both in myself and in others. I have a few good friends who are much more evolved in their ability to shield themselves from picking up other people’s negative energy. I’m still a novice, but I’m making progress. I want to pick happy and be happy and exude happy. But, man, that bitch nurse does not make me happy.

So, I decided I’d blog about the incident and then let it go. It’s my assignment to myself. I’m going to reframe and be positive, leave it to karma and move on. And if a certain mean-girl nurse is stricken with an intensely uncomfortable, but ultimately inconsequential, medical emergency, I’ll be positive she deserves it!