Today, we went shopping.
Now although I understand that this is not exactly blogworthy material, it was something of a milestone because:
- 1. I don’t shop. It’s not something that I do. It’s not something that I enjoy. It’s just not fun for me. Yes, I am that girl. Sue me.
2. The shopping-spree was of a completely academic nature.
I know right.
Ever since we started our first clinical rotation, Intro to Clinical II late last year, my mother has had this obsession with how I look when I’m in the hospital. I’ll admit, I always imagined I would at least look professional, but she took it to a whole new level when (with a conviction that I can only call religious, yes I stole that from Glee) she started dictating what I was allowed to wear any time I step into the wards as a non-patient.
At first, I humored her. We live in separate provinces, so all I needed to do was dress up for about a week, post plenty of group pictures on facebook of me in my white coat and her outfit of choice, and then boom! Problem solved.
Only, I guess I looked so professional and doctor-y (ha! Wait till I tell her how our Registrar nearly had a stroke when I tried to do the respiratory exam on a patient) that she made it her new mission to ensure that I always look professional and doctor-y.
So today, I went hospital-clothes shopping.
I kid you not.
Among my purchases was a pair of formal-looking pants and some new pumps. I fought off the “practical and comfy” crocks with every ounce of strength left in me after an entire hour looking at shoes. (An hour, people.)
Then I got home and dumped the stuff in my room. Next to my stethoscope, which I’d brought down with me because our holiday assignment had been to witness deliveries so that later this year we don’t look at clueless as our nametags suggest. And it hit me.
I just bought pants for the hospital. Which I am going to wear in the hospital. The hospital I am going to be working in. Not just observing but working. As in, in a few weeks.
Then I watched some Grey’s Anatomy.
Because after that kind of a revelation, what else can a person do?