On certain days I may be assigned to a particular type of #OR case and as such find myself victimized by urban legend #hospital policy that requires me to change out of my comfy personal scrubs and into very basic hospital-sanctioned scrubs. These hospital grown scrubs are reputedly cleaner than my home-grown variety, just never mind the factoid that they are all quite unceremoniously forcibly crammed into suspect cubicles where they are permanently wrinkled much as a 125-year old migrant worker’s face who has recently been discovered a week later lying face down in the turnip patch, shaken and not stirred, but very well-done under scorching hot noon-day sun. We will only mention in brief passing how these suspect aseptic artifacts of clothing have been corporately washed in unison by use of industrial strength commercial washers with strong cleaning solvents, not only with ordinary dirt and grime, but with the added benefit of multiple patients’ feces, urine, vomitous, blood and the like from several institutions
’Nough said about that so I rest my case.
Although I do think it relevant and noteworthy that Hospital Scrub developers were early pioneers of the #unisex concept as they fit male or female personnel anatomy equally poorly. Asexual or gender-neutral almost comes to mind, but not quite as they also offer a further progressive claim of “switch-hitter” status with #bisexual capacity as they flip either way, both in or out complete with pocket on either side, and that with ease. I have discovered by sheer determined trial and error that if the shirt and pants are wrinkled on the one side, the bisex plan to flip them inside out fails miserably as they are equally wrinkled on the inside as well as the out, though I had to try. I HAD to try, you understand?
I suspect there are latent #spiritual truths there.
“The heart of man reflects man.”
As a man thinks within himself, so he is.”
What we see on the outside accurately indicates what lurks tucked and hidden away somewhere on the inside.