"Radar"
"Hold his head still
with both your hands while I stitch up his busted lip. A couple of
teeth went right through it…musta' hit the steering wheel" the
young intern instructed. Radar said "Ok. Got it" Nurse Ann
whispered in Radar's ear "Talk to him. He's drunk and rowdy. Try to
keep him still". The patient who called himself "Wild Bill" had
just been brought into the ER by a local squad. The paramedics
wheeled him in to the first exam room and Radar helped them move
him onto the gurney for examination. Wild Bill had way too many
Buds that night and drove his pickup head first into a large oak
tree. The tree won the encounter and was still standing,
scarred…but upright and otherwise intact. Wild Bill, on the other
hand, had flown head first through his windshield and was now in
Memorial Hospital's emergency room, his face and tee shirt drenched
in his own blood.
******
Radar had overtime taught himself a coping
mechanism: blood is just leaked engine oil…that's all…nothing more.
He thought back to his first day on the job as an orderly…when
blood was blood. That first day had started with all the chaos and
confusion any college-aged teen would encounter on a new job. The
world of a hospital--- with its glaring fluorescent lit halls and
beige walls, it was a harsh, alien scene. The white uniforms of the
1970's exaggerated the features of the lower ranks who wore them:
the nurses, nurse aids, technicians, and orderlies. As one of the
latter group, Radar was part of the bottom caste…those who see the
worst there is to be seen up close; those who mop it up, and those
who bag it and haul it away.
Even though the dress rules were strict
regarding their uniforms, each member of the caste added their own
little signature look to his or her appearance. The nurse aides who
shared the same bottom rung as the orderlies could be identified by
their cheap hair dye jobs and over-abundance of make-up. Some
pushed the dress code envelope by wearing non-regulation brightly
colored panty hose, giving those women the look of a hooker
dressing up like a nurse to work a bachelor party. The young female
technicians working in X-ray and the various therapy departments
also took liberties with their panty hose colors, but their subdued
color choices, natural hair shades, and normal make-up
distinguished them from the aides. The real nurses---the RN's and
LPN's--- were held to the letter of the dress guidelines and were
sent home to change if they deviated in any way. The orderlies
followed a simple, but strict dress code: white smock or "tunic",
white pants, white hospital-approved plain tennis shoes and white
socks. Being that it was the Seventies; the hospital administration
was somewhat lenient on the length of orderly hair: it must be off
the shoulders and clean. No beards were permitted, even though
several doctors had them.
Radar liked the simplicity of the uniform: it
kept him from trying to figure out what was in style every morning.
Being young and single, looks were still very important in a
youthful society. But as he would find out, the hospital whites had
an effect on everyone he encountered. They assumed that he had the
knowledge…and he would learn how to use that impression to get his
job done.
The knowledge couldn't prepare him for what
he was about to encounter on that first day. Shortly after picking
up his pager and then making his way to the nurses' break area at
the side of the nurses station, his pager beeped and he was
instructed to go to the morgue to assist in "a squad delivery". "E"
was waiting for him there. "E", as they called him, was about six
feet three…an imposing figure with jet black hair and long thick
sideburns just like the ones his idol Elvis Presley wore. He got
his nickname "E" because he moonlighted as an Elvis impersonator.
"E" was always singing, regardless of the situation. A kinder,
gentler soul you would never meet.
"E" greeted Radar with "Boy, do we have a
treat for you on
"Hold his head still
with both your hands while I stitch up his busted lip. A couple of
teeth went right through it…musta' hit the steering wheel" the
young intern instructed. Radar said "Ok. Got it" Nurse Ann
whispered in Radar's ear "Talk to him. He's drunk and rowdy. Try to
keep him still". The patient who called himself "Wild Bill" had
just been brought into the ER by a local squad. The paramedics
wheeled him in to the first exam room and Radar helped them move
him onto the gurney for examination. Wild Bill had way too many
Buds that night and drove his pickup head first into a large oak
tree. The tree won the encounter and was still standing,
scarred…but upright and otherwise intact. Wild Bill, on the other
hand, had flown head first through his windshield and was now in
Memorial Hospital's emergency room, his face and tee shirt drenched
in his own blood.
******
Radar had overtime taught himself a coping
mechanism: blood is just leaked engine oil…that's all…nothing more.
He thought back to his first day on the job as an orderly…when
blood was blood. That first day had started with all the chaos and
confusion any college-aged teen would encounter on a new job. The
world of a hospital--- with its glaring fluorescent lit halls and
beige walls, it was a harsh, alien scene. The white uniforms of the
1970's exaggerated the features of the lower ranks who wore them:
the nurses, nurse aids, technicians, and orderlies. As one of the
latter group, Radar was part of the bottom caste…those who see the
worst there is to be seen up close; those who mop it up, and those
who bag it and haul it away.
Even though the dress rules were strict
regarding their uniforms, each member of the caste added their own
little signature look to his or her appearance. The nurse aides who
shared the same bottom rung as the orderlies could be identified by
their cheap hair dye jobs and over-abundance of make-up. Some
pushed the dress code envelope by wearing non-regulation brightly
colored panty hose, giving those women the look of a hooker
dressing up like a nurse to work a bachelor party. The young female
technicians working in X-ray and the various therapy departments
also took liberties with their panty hose colors, but their subdued
color choices, natural hair shades, and normal make-up
distinguished them from the aides. The real nurses---the RN's and
LPN's--- were held to the letter of the dress guidelines and were
sent home to change if they deviated in any way. The orderlies
followed a simple, but strict dress code: white smock or "tunic",
white pants, white hospital-approved plain tennis shoes and white
socks. Being that it was the Seventies; the hospital administration
was somewhat lenient on the length of orderly hair: it must be off
the shoulders and clean. No beards were permitted, even though
several doctors had them.
Radar liked the simplicity of the uniform: it
kept him from trying to figure out what was in style every morning.
Being young and single, looks were still very important in a
youthful society. But as he would find out, the hospital whites had
an effect on everyone he encountered. They assumed that he had the
knowledge…and he would learn how to use that impression to get his
job done.
The knowledge couldn't prepare him for what
he was about to encounter on that first day. Shortly after picking
up his pager and then making his way to the nurses' break area at
the side of the nurses station, his pager beeped and he was
instructed to go to the morgue to assist in "a squad delivery". "E"
was waiting for him there. "E", as they called him, was about six
feet three…an imposing figure with jet black hair and long thick
sideburns just like the ones his idol Elvis Presley wore. He got
his nickname "E" because he moonlighted as an Elvis impersonator.
"E" was always singing, regardless of the situation. A kinder,
gentler soul you would never meet.
"E" greeted Radar with "Boy, do we have a
treat for you on
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