NEXT IN THE SERIES
ART ATTACK
‘HEALTH OUTCOME FACILITATORS’
In the last episode some time ago it ended with my being transferred to Royal Melbourne for ‘further investigatoring’ of my apparently failing bloodlines.
In between the eightish beds I was liable to occupy during this entire period of confinement there were moments where I was able to not only contemplate my own situation ,but make observations about the various health professionals gliding to and fro and ministering to the sick and needy.
Most prominent are those men and women, women-men or men-women who possess the certification of ‘‘Nurse’.
I will try not to use the word models in this context as few could be accidentally thought of in that sense. Lets same they come in three ‘versions’ of Nurse.
#1 in my preferred order would be those that believe helping others is a vocation, a calling, despite the deplorable conditions. I would make similar observations of Nuns as they also seem to enjoy holding someone’s hand. There is the rare Nun of course who is holding your hand because they’re trying to pry away the Will Form in order to help you complete it, but they are a rarity.
This version of nurse is polite, considerate, friendly and helpful. They give the impression that maybe they should be in an asylum for putting up with what they have sometimes been forced to do. They have an unshakeable belief that laughter is the best medicine and try to achieve that goal when and where it is appropriate. (Men do not always appreciate a giggle while their genitals are being washed).
#2 version believe nursing to be an honourable job despite the shit pay. It might also be said that in earlier, more prudish times, it may have also given a proper young lady an appropriate way to manipulate a potential suitor.
There were times in the ancient past, which still persists in some regimes more sexist today, when men were particularly attracted to nurses because they could wave their willy around without the girl fainting from laughter.
#3 on my list is the most dreaded and the least popular brand often left in the showroom for stocktake sales or depressed old men with severe vision problems like me.
They will more than likely boast that they were actually trained by Florence Nightingale, and following Florence’s realisation of what harm she had really done, took to her bed for the remainder of her life as a penance while the rest of the profession soldiered on.
These fugly ones will seek power in order to compensate for God’s vengeance, the poor conditions and the shit pay.
To be fair they are also the ones that work the extra shifts, overtime without pay and sit next to the nearly departed for hours without complaint or reward primarily because they can’t find a suitably fugly male to ask them out for a date. These are the rarest beings on the planet, someone who seems to derive pleasure from the shit being thrown at them on an hourly basis. I’m sure some of them would keep smiling even while being devoured feet first by a mechanical wood-chipper.
Maybe the hard-arsed and harder-faced old fashioned martinettes like my friend ‘Stallone’’ at John Fawkner, should be my first brand of nurse. It might turn out that they are as desperate as me, maybe that’s why they are so dedicated to their work they’re just filling in time before a quick fumble and shag down in the X-Ray darkroom. They’d sleep with Julie Bishop, Alan Jones or even the Elephant Man to get a head.
Lording it over these ladies is the inevitable boss cocky ,or lack of, in the Senior Nurse or Matron, or maybe they call them Executive Health Managers these days, who usually appear followed by the Corps de Medico. The Hattie Jacques and Lucretia Borgias of the nursing world leading their naïve charges to their virtual slaughter by the bedside.
The Florence is looking to see who might swing both ways, the Hattie is wondering which male nurse might be open for ravishing and the Lucretia is looking for someone with whom they can share a half-decent screw and then end the relationship by chewing the head off under their flacid helmet.
Maybe I was a tad unfair with these descriptions as there are many nurses who don’t open their legs as often as automatic doors, whose University training and professionalism is without peer. I must admit that being of the old school I still cling to the notion that nursing was always an under appreciated profession taken up by young ladies who couldn’t sell perfume, dresses or bouffant your hair, who spent much of their younger years playing doctors and nurses and wanted to continue the fun and games through their adult years.
More later.
GAFFS OF THE YEAR
Tony Abbott, who refuses to wear make-up because he doesn't want to look like an economic girlie-man, walked straight past the new Indonesian President at his inauguration earlier this year.
Apparently he either didn’t recognise the leader of the most populous Islamic nation in the world and our closest neighbour in several ways or he was in a hurry to get to the stall handing out free gifts to world leaders.
George Brandis made himself a laughing stock by saying that even bigots had rights which sort of gives the green light to every self-righteous character to voice their obnoxious opinions as well.
I suppose we could count ourselves lucky that this column is not long enough to include all the gaffs of the Labor party. There biggest gaff was not having any policies which advanced the country and seemed designed just bring us to gridlock like our allies across the Pacific.
Of course that includes England where Tony Abbott is vying for the job of 'Warden of the Cinque Ports' a job previously held by Bob Menzies. He'll look better in knickerbockers, robes and funny hats than in his budgie-smugglers. The gong to someone who already has a dozen of them has just made a joke out of Philip and fools of Team Australia.
We get the government we deserve and if we elect the greedy, self-centred, ideology driven party shits that lead us at all three levels of government then so be it.
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