Purify.
Working in a hospital sometimes makes people incredibly OCD. Washing hands, for example.
Now, when I wash my hands, I literally have to stand at the sink and clean everything from between my fingers to the webby parts between the thumb and index finger, give a good scrub under the nails (infections, people!) and then the wrists. For my occasionally more deluded days, I wash up to my elbows. And then I take 5 paper towels and dry my hands. I try and forget the fact that trees are dying and I comfort myself with the also true fact that wet hands spread infection. And we don't want that, do we?
Washing hands is a cathartic experience for me. Its very stress relieving, whether its cold water or warm water or boiling hot water running over my hands. It reminds me that no matter what I touch today, no matter what has gone wrong, I can stand at the sink at the end of the day and clean it off me. A squirt of soap, lather, rinse, and repeat if I feel I still need to get rid of the feeling of being unclean.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
Almost hypnotic to a point, really.
I can stand there and imagine these hands, my tools of my trade and I wash them. They've done so many things for so many people today. They've held tissues, patted backs, shook hands, written notes, held stethoscopes, pressed machine buttons, suctioned bloodstained mucus out of throats and mouths, lifted people, all that. And at the end of it all, my hands stink slightly of everything I've touched. I have to clean it.
Friend of mine who's doing dentistry once told me that to wash your hands effectively, it needs to be cleaned for over 30 seconds. And the only way to make sure this is done well is to sing "Happy Birthday" twice.
So now when I wash my hands, I imagine a Marilyn Monroe singing a seductive "Happy Birthday" song to President Kennedy and I play that soundtrack twice. And then I turn off the tap with my elbow and dry my hands upon scratchy paper towels.
And I've washed away the stress and the unhappiness and the gloom of the day. I leave it all behind and I leave the hospital hopefully with a lighter heart but definitely cleaner hands.
I'm not the cleanest person. People who know me can testify to that. But at least in one aspect of my life, I have control over something.
Now, when I wash my hands, I literally have to stand at the sink and clean everything from between my fingers to the webby parts between the thumb and index finger, give a good scrub under the nails (infections, people!) and then the wrists. For my occasionally more deluded days, I wash up to my elbows. And then I take 5 paper towels and dry my hands. I try and forget the fact that trees are dying and I comfort myself with the also true fact that wet hands spread infection. And we don't want that, do we?
Washing hands is a cathartic experience for me. Its very stress relieving, whether its cold water or warm water or boiling hot water running over my hands. It reminds me that no matter what I touch today, no matter what has gone wrong, I can stand at the sink at the end of the day and clean it off me. A squirt of soap, lather, rinse, and repeat if I feel I still need to get rid of the feeling of being unclean.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
Almost hypnotic to a point, really.
I can stand there and imagine these hands, my tools of my trade and I wash them. They've done so many things for so many people today. They've held tissues, patted backs, shook hands, written notes, held stethoscopes, pressed machine buttons, suctioned bloodstained mucus out of throats and mouths, lifted people, all that. And at the end of it all, my hands stink slightly of everything I've touched. I have to clean it.
Friend of mine who's doing dentistry once told me that to wash your hands effectively, it needs to be cleaned for over 30 seconds. And the only way to make sure this is done well is to sing "Happy Birthday" twice.
So now when I wash my hands, I imagine a Marilyn Monroe singing a seductive "Happy Birthday" song to President Kennedy and I play that soundtrack twice. And then I turn off the tap with my elbow and dry my hands upon scratchy paper towels.
And I've washed away the stress and the unhappiness and the gloom of the day. I leave it all behind and I leave the hospital hopefully with a lighter heart but definitely cleaner hands.
I'm not the cleanest person. People who know me can testify to that. But at least in one aspect of my life, I have control over something.
posted by Poet at
11:28 PM
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