Saturday, August 06, 2011

Yo! Smart people! You are not disabusing me of my stereotypes.

Got up yesterday morning, set the makeup gun to "Slut" and checked my email. (This is my usual routine for work, and no, I'm not trying to catch a doctor. If I don't layer on whore paint with a trowel, people ask me if I'm sick. This is Texas.)

In the email was a note from a Faithful Minion who told me that somebody had quoted something on HN out of context. When I followed the link, I found that not only had HN been quoted out of context, the person who'd quoted me had gotten the quote wrong, and drawn completely wrong conclusions about what they'd misquoted.

On a professional website. A, like, *big* professional website.

So I sent the person in question a very nice email, correcting and expanding.

Once I got to work, I was told by a patient's family member that that patient was "very important and, actually, famous." This did not stop me from looking blankly at the patient and saying, "So. They let you cross the street by yourself" after he'd asked me one of those questions that just defies belief. ("They're gonna put me under for this surgery, right?" "Oh, no, we think the suffering of surgical patients brightens up the joint. NEXT!" Even worse than that. Swearsies.)

Then, about lunchtime, I checked my email again. In it was a snotty note from the person I very nicely corrected and a confused note from a Minion who read something wrong.

Reading comprehension: The Lost Art Of The Covenant.

I've long believed--since before I ever met the first Nobel Laureate I ever met--that truly brilliant people ought to be given minders. There should be somebody following every Genius Grant recipient around, making sure they don't leave their car keys in the freezer or put their shoes on the wrong feet. If you've won a prize for anything intellectual, you would automatically be issued some nice, boring, sensible person who'd tell you not to wear those shoes with that pair of pants and who'd make sure you didn't leave your head in the taxi.

My Sainted Father is one of those folks who'd misplace limbs if they weren't glued on. My Beloved Mother has spent the last fifty years making sure he doesn't wander out under a bus or absentmindedly mail his own liver to Abyssinia. She deserves a medal.

I deserve, after limiting my snark to the words "You're welcome, Doofus" more than once, a drink.

Please, smart people. Get it together. Or at least present a semblance of togetherness when you're around me.

12 comments:

Silliyak said...

At least I don't have to worry about THAT! (being overly intelligent)

Anonymous said...

The "you're putting me under, right?" question is valid. My friend had heart repair and only found out after she was strapped to the table that it would be w/o anesthesia, or even hefty tranquilizers. She said it hurt. A lot. She still doesn't know why that kind of repair couldn't be done w/ anesthesia.

Margaret said...

"Everyone's an idiot! Just on different subjects." Will Rogers

:-)

messymimi said...

Book smarts is no guarantee of common sense, or manners.

Some of the "smartest" people i've ever met haven't had much formal education, but can out think so called geniuses in so many ways.

Anonymous said...

One of the stupidest questions I ever got was from a "rocket scientist" (I think his technical designation was mechanical engineer, but he did work for that acronym that is primarily known for rockets). Him and I laughed later about how people always use that phrase "rocket scientist" to describe a genius. This guy was smart enough to realize his area of expertise was not mine, and vise versa. Which is more than I can say for most people.

I wonder if your misquote was from the thread on a certain professional site that brought me to your blog. If so, there is silver in them clouds.

pita1213 said...

My husband has to deal with some of those smart people types that tend to have not a lot of common sense. Brilliant in their very specific field of science, but not smart about the rest of life. Your post made me giggle because you are dealing with the same thing he has to deal with.

Anonymous said...

Dear Head Nurse,
Once in a great while I read your blog, and I am offended by your comment that I might, if not carefully watched, mail my liver to Abyssinia. What I have hidden from you until today is that I'm a freak of nature. (Please, after counting the stitches on that one, allow it to split the plate without comment.) The truth is, that while your Mom was not looking, I wandered out under the bus and seriously injured one of my two livers. THAT was the one I mailed to Abyssinia.
Dad

Hospital Volunteer said...

We in the food service go by this rule:

"Everyone is a dumb ass/ass hole unless proven otherwise"

We follow this rule till we find the one person who actually knows how to order off a menu and are very nice to them otherwise expect a big tude if you hold up my drive thru line at dinner rush.

Anonymous said...

I live in an area heavily populated with various engineers of various types that work for one behemoth company that illiterate penguins in Antarctica know of. Those of us in healthcare can generally have them pegged as an on-paper-only-smartypants within seconds of "Hi I'm X, your nurse.". Never boring as patients. Often challenging in ridiculously irrelevant ways. You want to read your anesthesia record, mechanical engineer dude? Sure. Knock yourself out. (Ba ba Dum Ching!). Am I going to let you tell me what good nursing care is? Nosireebob. I don't do what you do, you don't do what I do.

I took care of my ex husbands boss once, while we were still divorcing. (Didn't know it until very near the end of our time together, offered him a nurse switch, he declined.). He was so pompous and obnoxious and clueless when not talking about his work stuff, but couldn't see that. I understood my ex's fondness for him, and the ex's inexplicable superior job evals then. Lol. Still think I should been able to insist on switching too.

LaLa said...

I'm down in Houston, and while I do know what you mean about the makeup levels that are considered appropriate in Texas, I refuse to cake my face with all that crap.

I slap on the 30 spf moisturizer, run a brush through my hair and done. I loves my sleep too much to spend half an hour "putting on my face."

Sleep gooood.

Laura said...

Oh my god I love your dad.

Lioness said...

What Laura said, I was going to write what Laura said!

I'm pale too but wear only lipstick and a bit of blush, can't be bothered. My best friend once tried to convince me that if I applied mascara before going to Uni the whole day would go so much better. Since at that time said days started at the stable sticking a finger up a sheep's arse so I could then examine the dung for parasites she failed to convince me. What I want to know is, how big is your hair?? THAT I'd dearly love to see!