I am Marge Simpson’s disapproving groan.

A funny thing happened while I was nursing.

Not funny haha.

More funny like Marge Simpson groaning in disapproval.

I went to take a set of observations on a patient I’d been caring for, he’e been in hospital for 4 months. He’s missed winter. Safe to say he’s pretty sick.

Earlier that day, a patient in the bed opposite had been discharged into police custody, so when two visitors came to see my patient saying that they were the police, I believed them.

Then the Carry on Nurse jokes started.

“Are we interrupting his bed bath time?”

It started to dawn on me that they were probably friends of his. Not the police. I answered flatly. Appropriately. Confused.

As I took my patient’s temperature, I willed myself not to use the word ‘probe’ but it was all sort of happening in slow motion and as I asked him to open his mouth so that I could pop the thermometer’s probe under his tongue there was uproarious laughter from his visitors.

Red faced, ignoring further comments, I told the men to behave.

THAT’S RIGHT. In the face of some horrendous ‘banter’, I said both the word PROBE and the word BEHAVE. Like the silly, sexy nurse I am. Excuse me while I vomit.

I stopped making eye contact and finished the observations as quickly as possible. Humiliated by my inability to control the situation more than anything that had been said.

I then hid until they left.

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