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Wearing Scrubs: What do YOU do Exactly?

September 2, 2011 By 7 Comments

ScrubsUsed to be you’d only see Marcus Welby, MD in them after surgery. Most of the time doctors wore white lab coats or suits, and nurses wore little nursing uniforms with cute hats. Now, rest assured 95% of the people you encounter in ANY health related field, be it on man or animal, will be sporting a new pair of Scrubs. I don’t have a problem with scrubs. It is just difficult for a lay person to know exactly what said scrub-wearing person does.

Are you my internist or the plastic surgeon? Or, heaven help me, someone incorrectly scanned my armband, and I’m in the line-up for a colonoscopy. Yes, I blame much of this confusion on scrubs.

Looking to the layman’s answer to anything, Wikipedia, offers the following as the definition or explanation of modern scrubs:

Today, any medical uniform consisting of a short-sleeve shirt and pants is known as “scrubs”. Nearly all patient care personnel at hospitals in the United States wear some form of scrubs while on duty, as do some staffers in doctor, dental, and veterinary offices. Support staff such as custodians and unit clerks also wear scrubs in some facilities.

After serious thought, I’ve decided to request Medical and photo ID of personnel requesting access to my body.

I’ll tell them to pretend they are checking in at the doctor’s office.

 

Filed Under: Etcetera, My "reblonding" years, the '70's

AARP, Sit-Ins, LHJournal, Sororities & the Moon

July 14, 2010 By 1 Comment

I cannot explain it. AARP newsletteraphobia? When the quarterly

AARP newspaper arrives in my mailbox, my anxiety level increases. I believe it triggers the age chart quivers. Yet, I cannot bring myself to toss the old folks paper in the trash even if it means disclosing my membership. At least one article captures my interest, leaving me with news to pass on to other youngsters.

What caught my eye in most recent AARP bulletin: a full page feature on the 50th anniversary of the sit-in. Remember sit-ins? People literally sat down at designated sites and refused to move. In doing so, the sitters protested everything from LSD bans to the Vietnam War.

Ladies’ Home Journal Sit-In Manhattan March 18, 1970

I don’t know if Ladies Home Journal is even still published.*  I do not think of it as a forum for sexism, but evidently some women did.  On March 18, 1970, 100+ feminists charged the male editor-in-chief’s office, held the editor hostage while simultaneously enjoying his imported cigars.

Perhaps it is the image I have assimilated, but this really has given me a few chuckles in the last 24 hours. Remember that expression, “oh to be a fly on the wall” ? I would love to have seen this editor’s face when 100 peasant bloused draped gals  pushed their way into his office, pushed the Brooks Brothers’ attired executive to the side, propped their feet up on his desk and smiled.

Of course, simultaneously no doubt, the mothers of these heathens (as girls of this character were called) were frantically fanning themselves with paper fans,  conjuring up alibis for their daughters. I can hear it now, “No daughter of mine is sitting in a man’s office smoking cigars!”

Back then, young women were confused.

Did you look forward after your college graduation to joining the junior league or did you plan to save the world? I was fortunate. I grew up in the South. I was raised that I could be anything I wanted to be, an astronaut or an architect, yet first I had to pledge a sorority.

I pledged Kappa Kappa Gamma my freshman year at the University of North Carolina. I will never forget the day I received my pledge. No, I have never won a beauty contest or a lottery, but the feeling I had when I received that invitation was close. The feeling of belonging stays with me today.

Sure, some of the stories about those other sororities may be true, but my sorority sisters went on to become physicians, pharmacists, and research scientists.

and… I don’t want to brag, but, I am a published writer.

Who cares if I didn’t make it to the moon.

photo credit: Ladies Home Journal

*July issue of LHJ can be found wherever you buy your girlie mags!

Filed Under: Memories, the '70's Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Where Have All the Stewardesses Gone?

July 5, 2010 By 7 Comments

come fly with me

As I waited to be scanned in with my electronic boarding pass, I had a momentary flash back to days long ago. Some of the things I remember about flying in the 70′s

  • People dressed up to fly- they did not get their outfit out of the hamper
  • Flight attendents all looked like Barbie dolls, not greeters at WalMart
  • Flight attendants were called stewardesses
  • Kids were given a set of wings, and or coloring pages during flight
  • Food was free
  • Life Insurance was available for purchase at most airports
  • Smoking allowed on most flights

What prompted my 1970 flying flashback was a tie-dyed personal bag on the shoulder of a teenager in front of me. You do remember tie-dye, right? Wearing tie-dyed clothes made a statement in my day. S and I were not allowed to wear tie-dyed clothes, or heaven help us the accompanying peace sign necklace (the communists were behind the peace sign).

I am anxious to reach my seat as I have walked 36 gates with a lead filled laptop case. For $100 I would have sold it at the Food Court. I guess I needed a sign?

My single positive thought as I collapsed in a seat at my gate was congratulating myself for not wearing my cute little pink sandals. For this travel day, I wore my Dansko clogs. OMG what will I be doing next- wearing velcro hushpuppies?

I finally sit down in my seat, 13D. This is after I accuse another passenger of sitting in my seat- maybe counting is one of the skills you lose first?

Knowing I just have a few minutes, I quickly call LT to let him know I am on the plane. The last thing he says to me “Make sure you are not going to Charleston, West Virginia.” I hang up, and casually ask my neighbor if we are going to South Carolina.

After a somewhat odd look, he replies he hopes so. I tell him the destination is not important anymore I have gone through hell to get here. Where this flight is going, I am going. If it is going to Charleston, West Virginia instead of Charleston, South Carolina so be it. He is staring now. I flash him that million dollar smile.

I wrench my diet coke & Kindle out of my Vera Bradley purse and settle in for the short flight. I triple dog dare any crew member to tell me to put it away.

A crew member just announced I had a life vest under my seat- nada. After stoping and questioning said crew member, he concludes there are NOT any life vests on the air craft. My Kindle is the least of his problems.

I quickly go over an escape plan with my neighbor- he just nods.

None of this would have been necessary if the stewardesses were still on board.

Where are you?

Tell us about a recent melodrama YOU had in the friendly skies. And yes, I wrote Delta about this incident.

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