Why is It?
Why is it that men think women want or need their unsolicited advice and counsel??
I had a run-in with a co-worker last week, a male co-worker. I am embarrassed to say I stood in the hallway near the nurses' locker room and screamed at him to, "Shut the fuck up!" Or, "Will you shut the fuck up," or, "Will you fucking shut up," or, "Fucking shut up!" Something like that. You get the idea.
This, coming from the nurse who, days prior, had been informed she'd been nominated for the professional nursing excellence award. How's that for timing? How's that for professionalism? This young man (he's not much younger than I am but, to me, behaves more like a conciliatory son than a peer) has been offering me advice about my practice in the ER since he returned to us following a stint in the Cardiac Cath Lab for a couple of years. Granted, he has worked in this ED longer than I have. Granted, he's had more opportunity to acclimate himself to this institution's policies in the years he worked here and I didn't, if he chose to do so.
But I am a professional nurse, have been a professional nurse for 22 years and have always practiced in a professional manner. That necessarily means familiarizing myself with the policies, procedures and practices of any institution or specialty area in which I've worked and, pretty much, practicing within the prescribed policies or working in an above board manner to facilitate changes in policy that I believe are necessary for optimal practice.
I do not need someone who's spent the last two years working in another area of the hospital to return and give me advice about how I should practice in this ED. I am the one who's spent the last two-and-a-half years working in this ED. I am the one who's worked on a committee trying to institute and support positive changes in our policies and practice in the ED over the past year. I am particularly keen on the changes in our policies and practice that have taken place during my co-worker's absence because I helped define and refine them.
Yet he apparently feels it's his duty to offer 'sage' advice on how we should practice in our ED. Somehow, he seems to believe I need the coaching. He may well be unaware he's being patronizing or condescending when he does this. However, I don't think he's entirely unaware of the impact of his 'brotherly' wisdom on me.
When I joined him on a team last week and he began offering suggestions for tasks I could perform (mostly on patients who were assigned to his care), I'd had all I could take. This was the fourth or fifth incident in the couple of months since his return to the ED. I made a snide comment, a lioness' first snarl. I am very good at this and under ordinary circumstances with normal people this warning shot is usually enough. "Leave me alone. Don't press any further. Back off." My male co-worker is obviously not 'normal' by my standard.
The trouble with me is I am not a detail person. With tasks, yes. With projects, yes. With work, yes. With conversations, no. I tend to imprint the feeling of an interchange between myself and another rather than photo- or phonographically recording the exchange verbatim in my memory. I might not be able to tell you precisely what either of us had said but could offer, in minute detail, how I felt, what I was thinking, what I thought your motivation was in the argument or discussion, whether you were trying to fuck with me, whether I was trying to fuck with you. For me, the important thing is how an interaction makes both parties feel.
My co-worker, much like the first woman I had a relationship with, is a detail person. Detail people can recall precise phrasing of a given conversation, or at least they purport to. I would never know, unless I'd actually recorded it. Detail people record these conversations into some storage space in their brains and retrieve them when they are needed as ammunition in future discussions or arguments. It's all very disconcerting for us 'feelings' people because we have no way to defend against a supposedly sharp memory. As I said, we remember feelings.
As I dropped my snide remark, I was feeling pretty pissed. I also felt any fool should get the message. My co-worker was, apparently, too wrapped up in recalling minute details to notice that I felt that way. I turned to walk away. He followed me. He may have laid a hand on me at some point in the exchange, I can't recall. I do remember him reaching to touch me, as if to pat my shoulder the way a father would his child, at one point. I recoiled and conveyed, through body language alone, that should he lay a hand on me, I would cause him immense pain and enjoy every second of it. I just might have, too, if he'd touched me. I was that pissed. Ultimately, after he followed me around the unit a bit and, I believe, even blocked my way at one point, I hurled my expletive at him, full force.
We wound up in the conference room with our boss. He continued to interrupt, talk over and otherwise ignore me so much in this conversation that I stood up, stomped my foot like a two year-old and screamed, "Will you please SHUT THE FUCK UP???" Kathy, my boss, is very good at mediating. I left the room feeling that she had heard me. My co-worker (who tried to outright lie about the sequence of events, though I actually remembered that part and stood firm) insisted we touch hands to show we'd "made up" before we left the room. I think I would have rather placed my hand in a dragon's fiery mouth but I let my fingertips glance his hand anyway. I had to let Kathy see I'm willing to give a little, even with someone so patently and annoyingly ignorant. As I looked at his back as we walked out, my mind said, "I will never trust you again, Prick."
I'm willing to give someone the benefit of the doubt, even more than once. But once you've crossed the line with me, there is no going back. I will cover his back, because it's what I need to do for the patients. I will be civil to him and no more. I will not engage in personal conversations with him. I will rebuff every effort at reconciliation, and I'm sure he will try. You know those types who try to be your best friend to pretend the tension doesn't exist? That's him, as I see him. It's going to be mighty cold for him in my vicinity when we're working together. I wonder if he'll take the hint before the next ice age.
I will never trust him again.
Prick.
I had a run-in with a co-worker last week, a male co-worker. I am embarrassed to say I stood in the hallway near the nurses' locker room and screamed at him to, "Shut the fuck up!" Or, "Will you shut the fuck up," or, "Will you fucking shut up," or, "Fucking shut up!" Something like that. You get the idea.
This, coming from the nurse who, days prior, had been informed she'd been nominated for the professional nursing excellence award. How's that for timing? How's that for professionalism? This young man (he's not much younger than I am but, to me, behaves more like a conciliatory son than a peer) has been offering me advice about my practice in the ER since he returned to us following a stint in the Cardiac Cath Lab for a couple of years. Granted, he has worked in this ED longer than I have. Granted, he's had more opportunity to acclimate himself to this institution's policies in the years he worked here and I didn't, if he chose to do so.
But I am a professional nurse, have been a professional nurse for 22 years and have always practiced in a professional manner. That necessarily means familiarizing myself with the policies, procedures and practices of any institution or specialty area in which I've worked and, pretty much, practicing within the prescribed policies or working in an above board manner to facilitate changes in policy that I believe are necessary for optimal practice.
I do not need someone who's spent the last two years working in another area of the hospital to return and give me advice about how I should practice in this ED. I am the one who's spent the last two-and-a-half years working in this ED. I am the one who's worked on a committee trying to institute and support positive changes in our policies and practice in the ED over the past year. I am particularly keen on the changes in our policies and practice that have taken place during my co-worker's absence because I helped define and refine them.
Yet he apparently feels it's his duty to offer 'sage' advice on how we should practice in our ED. Somehow, he seems to believe I need the coaching. He may well be unaware he's being patronizing or condescending when he does this. However, I don't think he's entirely unaware of the impact of his 'brotherly' wisdom on me.
When I joined him on a team last week and he began offering suggestions for tasks I could perform (mostly on patients who were assigned to his care), I'd had all I could take. This was the fourth or fifth incident in the couple of months since his return to the ED. I made a snide comment, a lioness' first snarl. I am very good at this and under ordinary circumstances with normal people this warning shot is usually enough. "Leave me alone. Don't press any further. Back off." My male co-worker is obviously not 'normal' by my standard.
The trouble with me is I am not a detail person. With tasks, yes. With projects, yes. With work, yes. With conversations, no. I tend to imprint the feeling of an interchange between myself and another rather than photo- or phonographically recording the exchange verbatim in my memory. I might not be able to tell you precisely what either of us had said but could offer, in minute detail, how I felt, what I was thinking, what I thought your motivation was in the argument or discussion, whether you were trying to fuck with me, whether I was trying to fuck with you. For me, the important thing is how an interaction makes both parties feel.
My co-worker, much like the first woman I had a relationship with, is a detail person. Detail people can recall precise phrasing of a given conversation, or at least they purport to. I would never know, unless I'd actually recorded it. Detail people record these conversations into some storage space in their brains and retrieve them when they are needed as ammunition in future discussions or arguments. It's all very disconcerting for us 'feelings' people because we have no way to defend against a supposedly sharp memory. As I said, we remember feelings.
As I dropped my snide remark, I was feeling pretty pissed. I also felt any fool should get the message. My co-worker was, apparently, too wrapped up in recalling minute details to notice that I felt that way. I turned to walk away. He followed me. He may have laid a hand on me at some point in the exchange, I can't recall. I do remember him reaching to touch me, as if to pat my shoulder the way a father would his child, at one point. I recoiled and conveyed, through body language alone, that should he lay a hand on me, I would cause him immense pain and enjoy every second of it. I just might have, too, if he'd touched me. I was that pissed. Ultimately, after he followed me around the unit a bit and, I believe, even blocked my way at one point, I hurled my expletive at him, full force.
We wound up in the conference room with our boss. He continued to interrupt, talk over and otherwise ignore me so much in this conversation that I stood up, stomped my foot like a two year-old and screamed, "Will you please SHUT THE FUCK UP???" Kathy, my boss, is very good at mediating. I left the room feeling that she had heard me. My co-worker (who tried to outright lie about the sequence of events, though I actually remembered that part and stood firm) insisted we touch hands to show we'd "made up" before we left the room. I think I would have rather placed my hand in a dragon's fiery mouth but I let my fingertips glance his hand anyway. I had to let Kathy see I'm willing to give a little, even with someone so patently and annoyingly ignorant. As I looked at his back as we walked out, my mind said, "I will never trust you again, Prick."
I'm willing to give someone the benefit of the doubt, even more than once. But once you've crossed the line with me, there is no going back. I will cover his back, because it's what I need to do for the patients. I will be civil to him and no more. I will not engage in personal conversations with him. I will rebuff every effort at reconciliation, and I'm sure he will try. You know those types who try to be your best friend to pretend the tension doesn't exist? That's him, as I see him. It's going to be mighty cold for him in my vicinity when we're working together. I wonder if he'll take the hint before the next ice age.
I will never trust him again.
Prick.
posted by Cheryl at
5/11/2006 07:20:00 PM
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