Why I love my job

I think that it is absolutely hilarious that, no matter how old we get, given the right circumstances, we can revert right back into child-like behavior.

As a single gal, I have the opportunity to revert quite often (hello, can you say “brownies for dinner, please?”). But that’s my personal life. You would think that in my work life – my professional life, no less – things would be much more mature.

Yeah, not really. In fact, it might be worse.

This has been strongly underscored to me from a few recent events that have occurred lately at work. One of my managers, Carrie, likes to plan out little games for us whenever there is a holiday. Whether it is “Pin the Tail on Cupid” or “Four-Leaf-Clover Roulette,” she always thinks of something creative. And there are prizes, too, usually consisting of some sort of candy and/or cash.

However, among all of these fabulous holidays with all of their silly games, there are two favorites – Easter and Cinco de Mayo. And we eagerly look forward to them every year.

For Easter, Carrie hides 30 Easter eggs all over the OR.

As you could imagine, there are literally hundreds of places to hide these eggs, and Carrie doesn’t even try to make it easy for us. We anxiously wait all day for the eggs to be hidden, until finally, a voice comes over the loud speaker announcing “The 8OR Annual Easter Egg Hunt has officially begun!”

Then all hell breaks loose.

Everybody starts running around like crazy people, like it is the day after Christmas, and each Easter egg is a $20 flat-screen TV. We frantically start digging through drawers of syringes, dumping out boxes of surgical drapes, and scaling the instrument tray shelves. The whole time we are screaming and laughing and squealing with glee. Any stray passer-by might think they have mistakenly entered the psychiatric ward.

This year, I only found two eggs (each worth a dollar), but I had the time of my life in the hunt!

For Cinco de Mayo (which is today), we usually have a piñata, and this year was no exception. We dressed said piñata up to look like one of our least favorite surgeons (he is a notorious monster) – and boy was it therapeutic to take a whack at him.

We strung him up in one of the empty rooms between two IV poles, and had the time of our lives. Forget the fact that we were swinging a huge stick around mere feet from equipment that cost literally hundreds-of-thousands of dollars. Oh, and the fact that surgery was going on in another room just around the corner. Quite trivial, if you ask me.

Money and candy went flying all over the place as we gutted our poor idiot surgeon, and I truly don’t think I have laughed that hard in a very long time.

 

My manager, Yoly, being spun around.

 

 

 

 

 

Doree had a particular fascination with the piñata’s crotch.

 

I knew there was a reason I didn’t play sports in high school.

 

 

 

Mariana and Marisol. You know, for being 7 months pregnant, Mariana sure managed to get a lot of candy.

 

 

 

 

 

“Dive, dive, dive!!”

 

 

 

 

Now, that’s the kind of bouquet I’d like to receive!

 

 

 

Oh, and I got the big prize this year – an honor I had yet to attain. That’s right, I got the fiver!!