Stylish

I like to wear smart clothes for my private hospital days, to impress my patients, and hope that they feel my exorbitant fees are entirely appropriate (“where did this anaesthetic bill come from? I never met any anaesthetist, just that tarted up dolly bird nurse who kept asking intrusive questions”). The toughest crowd though, are the PACU nurses, when I pop in after the end of the list to see my last patient and make sure they are not in agony or vomiting their guts out. I can see them giving me the once over, with a critical eye, as soon as I walk in. Shoulders back, suck that tummy in, hope my bra strap isn’t showing: it’s exhausting. I bet my surgeon would have absolutely no inkling of what I’m talking about. And the crazy thing is that these nurses are lovely, some of the nicest people you could ever meet. Sometimes it’s hard to be a woman.