I'm not warm or fuzzy ... or fuNNy

The other day a friend was upset that one of her bosses said that she wasn’t very warm. This was interesting to me, since I think of her as passionate and involved. However, her job is so demanding, that I can see how it would suck the ability to share warmth with others right out of her bones. Anyway, I told her not to worry about it too much. But maybe I’m biased, since I’ve gotten the same type of comment from the manager who does my yearly evaluations, although probably in a much gentler fashion.

I don’t get emotionally involved at work. I’m not one of those touchy-feely nurses who wants to sit and talk about feelings for hours on end. At work, I like to have really sick patients. And it I can’t have a really sick patient, I’ll settle for one who’s intubated and sedated. I especially don’t like to have patients whose parents are a mess. Which I understand is unfair. Any parent whose child is in the ICU would probably be a mess. However, when it gets to the point that I’m spending more time dealing with the parents’ emotional problems than the actual patient, is when I get really, really irritated. (BTW, I’d like to send a shoutout to the PICU social workers. Love them. Especially this week. Major interventions with two crazy families).

So, I don’t tend to get involved in my patients’ emotional lives. There are a couple of Extra Nice Nurse things I like to do … French braid the girls’ hair (those who have long hair, are mobile enough, and will be in bed for a long time), sing (when there’s no one else in the room), and hold fussy but consolable babies … but these are secondary to actually providing requisite care, and generally only happen when there is time to do such extras. My main concerns are making sure patients are stable, safe, comfortable and clean, and keeping the parents educated and informed.

Another not-really-related thing I’ve noticed … I’m not very funny, and I’m not very invested in fun.

I’m not a very funny person. I have a hard time telling jokes. Sometimes I don’t think other people’s jokes are very funny. I don’t like American stand-up comedy. In fact, I don’t like stand-up in general. Except Eddie Izzard. And only really in Dressed to Kill and Glorious (We went to see him live in LA a couple of years ago, but I was too astounded by the fake boobs and the crotch-high slit skirt to pay much attention to what was coming out of his mouth). Except that it’s mostly because he’s clever. Not to say that he’s not funny, but I like him because he’s clever and witty.

Which leads to me next point. I’m not very invested in fun, for fun’s sake. This may seem like splitting hairs, but I’m just not interested in just having fun. I like to do interesting and fulfilling things, and find a measure of fun in them. But I don’t do them because they’re fun … I do them because they’re interesting and/or fulfilling. Take iceskating. And no, I’m not very good at it (and it's been a while since I've been). However, I started doing it because I wanted to strengthen my ankle after the snowboarding accident (and no, I’m not good at snowboarding either). I continued with the iceskating because it got me out of the summer heat, and because I could feel how it strengthened my body in general. And because I liked finding ways to move to the music. Yes, it was fun, but that was the least of the draws.

And maybe what I’m really trying to say is that I don’t trust “fun.” I have many fun people in my life. And I enjoy them immensely. But when it comes down to getting things done, I generally can’t rely on the fun part of their nature to do those things. Or rather, I have to come up with fun angles to get them to do those things that need to be done.

So, I’m not fun. I can live with that. Now, let’s go out and have an interesting and fulfilling time.