By the inevitable crack5/1/2023 ![]() ![]() Between that and the stethoscope draped proprietarily around my neck, it was hard for the patients to know that I was a student. The navy blue school uniform scrubs, embroidered at the shoulder with the name and seal of my nursing school, were the same shade as those the nurses wore at this hospi- tal. May I take your blood pressure now? If it’s alright with you, I’d like to listen to your lungs. ![]() It felt so intrusive to even ask, and then shocking to gain such easy entry. I’m just going to check your capillary refill, you said, and then they let you pinch and prod them, quiet, supplicant. Their abdomens palpated, their gums examined the undersides of their feet inspected, repositioned, unwrapped and rewrapped in socks. It continued to amaze me, after two months, how willing the sick were to let themselves be touched. Still, I hovered for a moment in the doorway of the hospital room, pausing before jumping into the pool of their personal space. ![]() It was getting easier, touching strangers. ![]()
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