Other hospital departments don't always like those of us in surgery. Not that we care —unless it's necessary for them to like us in order for us to get what we need. We're here to do a job, not to win Miss Popularity. Maybe the problem is just that they don't understand us. So here's some insight into why we are the way we are.

The need for speed
Surgery is so different and so far removed from any other job in health care that there's really no basis for comparison. Other departments don't operate under anywhere near the same demands or pressures. We have tunnel vision and we don't do anything slow, especially in an emergency. Our goal is how quickly we can get a patient on the table, asleep, prepped, draped and open. IVs are "run in." Meds are "pushed." The finer points of pumps delivering drops-per-minute are lost on us. If we call for lab work or blood or a C-arm, stat, it's not because we're impatient. In our worldview, things are wide open until we close. Which is why we are so frustrated when those who are clueless as to what we do (such as administrators who have never seen the inside of the OR or the people running the path lab or the blood bank) put restrictions on how we do our jobs.

Not the social butterflies
We seldom have time to make the social rounds. Once while I was working charge, an administrator called me to her office to answer for the fact that OR staff never dined in the cafeteria, but always took their food to go. She thought we should be friendlier and less aloof. I should have invited her to put on some scrubs and join us for the next short-staffed, overscheduled, no-break-no-lunch day. Then she could join us for our lunch, something we found in our lockers or on the break-room table, eaten in haste while standing in the stairwell or on the elevator.

Hey, if we're recognized as "that OR nurse" and no one knows our name, it's not because we're antisocial. It's because we come to work, get down to business and go home when we're allowed to leave.

Pack mentality
Surgical staffers tend to travel in packs. Even more so than other departments, we're a family. We may have our squabbles and drama, but when push comes to shove, we look out for each other. Sure, I've occasionally been aggravated by a surgeon, but we're partners. I'll screen his calls, run for the supplies he needs during a case, wipe sweat from his forehead, bring him juice or candy when his sugar drops. I've changed bloody shoe covers and even pulled up pants when they've fallen down mid-case. Like with a sibling, I can mouth off about him, but no one else can.

OR nurses aren't unfriendly. And we're definitely not unfeeling. About 85% of the time, I'm holding the patient's hand, and the rest of the time I'm setting up monitors, grounding pads and preps before the propofol hits those eager little gamma receptors. When I'm asked what I do for a living, I don't just say I'm a nurse, I tell them I'm an OR nurse.