1/

It's 2017-ish. There’s a yellow sign on the door of the newly admitted patient.

“CONTACT PRECAUTIONS: MRSA”

I gel my hands, put on the shapeless yellow gown and clashing purple gloves. Knock, listen, enter.
2/

A man is sitting sideways on a bed. His nurse is taking his vitals. She’s donned in purple, but not yellow.

“Hi Anna, how are ya?”
“Good, doc, you?”

“Good, good.
Hi sir, I’m Dr. Sargsyan.”

His eyebrows tense as he looks me up and down. He’s clearly not liking my vibe.
3/

I get a bit self-conscious, and wonder if the sign I’d seen was on a different door.

“Anna, was this not an isolation room?”

We both glance toward the door.

“Yea. It’s for MRSA though”
4/

I made my best “I know contact precautions for nasal MRSA colonization are controversial and probably not the most important thing in the world, but let’s follow the rules” facial expression.

She smiled like “I know, I know, ok.”
5/

“Mr. Jones, I’m gonna be your doctor here, do you mind if we chat?”

“Why are you wearing that thing?”

Anna was on her way out. He made sure to thank her.
6/

“Oh, yea, these ugly gowns, I’m sorry, I kno—“

“What’s MRSA?”

I tried to explain - it’s a type of bacteria that we all have on our have skin or in our nose...
7/

...but each of us has one of two kinds, and we try to keep them separate

…so for folks who have the MRSA kind, we gown up to keep it from going around.

…It’s nothing to worry about though..

But the more I talked, the more upset he got by the gown and by my reasons
8/

Another nurse came into the room.

No gown. Just gloves.

I was irked but forced a smile. “Hi there. Contact precautions, please.”

“Oh, sorry, I’ll just be a second.”

He adjusted the IV pump and left.
9/

I tried to focus again: “Mr. Jones, let’s try to help you with this chest pain of yours, what’s been going on?”

But he was done with me.

“I don’t need to be talking to you right now.”
10/

The next 5 minutes were brutal. I tried everything to backtrack, apologize, empathize, shift, reset, appeal.

No luck. He didn’t want me as his doctor. He was looking past me and saying nothing.
11/

So I’m sitting next to him in my shapeless yellow paper gown, feeling shapeless myself, exasperated, ready to excuse myself and come back later.

The two nurses walk into the room again.

No gowns, no gloves.
12/

My frustration bubbled.

“I’m sorry but will ya’ll *please* follow the sign and put on a gown and gloves so that I’m not the only asshole wearing this damn thing?”

“Ok sorry sorry!” They stepped outside to dress up.
13/

I felt embarrassed for losing my cool, started thinking of how to apologize to my colleagues when they come back in.

Suddenly I notice the patient’s face has changed and he’s looking at me sideways. He smiles and shakes his head.

“What?” I manage.
14/

“Nothing. Nothing.” He chuckles. “What do you wanna know about my chest pain?”
15/

We talked, I examined him, told him what I thought and what to expect. He said sorry for giving you a hard time. I said sorry for being stiff.

And about the damn gowns again.
16/

But the reason the memory stuck was that being ‘unprofessional’ and calling myself an asshole was the only way I managed (accidentally) to stop being an asshole.

I guess feeling vulnerable and frustrated is something to connect over.
17/

P.S. If you would like to work on your "MRSA precautions are controversial" face, I recommend this great thread from @rloganjonesmd https://twitter.com/rloganjonesmd/status/1092779883040632833?s=20
18/

P.S. Another related sentiment below. COVID has created much more tragic forms of isolation, like that of sick people from their families. And while it has made us value the second P in PPE more, it's still good to appreciate all its effects. https://twitter.com/sargsyanz/status/1081994762586996736?s=20
You can follow @sargsyanz.
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