Those of us on the wrong side of 50 sometimes long for the good ol' days of surgery, when we charted by hand and wore scrub dresses. It was a simpler time in the OR, but were the good ol' days necessarily better? Well, they were if you miss

• Staple guns. The only thing disposable about these all-metal contraptions were the staples. We'd take them apart and clean them in the substerile room in a sink with hot water and a brush, then put them back together and autoclave them. When the surgeon asked for the gun, you prayed to the OR gods that it would fire. More often than not, the gun malfunctioned and would lie in pieces on the operative field. Then came an explosion of profanity that could be heard clear to the waiting room and hemostats flying past your ear, putting another chip into the tile wall.
• Flying instruments. Now that I opened up that can of worms, might as well go ahead and address it. Surgeons threw instruments (unless they were their own personal set, color-coded and taped or engraved with his name). It was a fact of life in the OR. Circulators should have been given football helmets. Once I wore a metal colander (after the surgeons got to know me).
• Glass suction containers. Remember Gomco glass collection bottles with the big black rubber stoppers? The circulator or scrub nurse emptied the Gomco in a hopper, cleaned it out, dried it and put it out for the next patient. Occasionally, clumsy nurses like me dropped them.
• Smoking. Everyone in medicine seemed to smoke back then. The staff lounge was filled with a heavy yellow haze. It was nothing for a scrub nurse to run into the lounge to quickly "hot box" a cigarette with her bloody gloves still on.

• Corrections. While I was learning to scrub and assist, it was perfectly acceptable for surgeons to correct you by rapping your knuckles with an instrument or a hand, or by screaming at you in dangerous decibels. A surgeon once reached across the patient, grabbed my upper arms, shook me and yelled, "If this patient dies, it will be all your fault." He responded to the tears welling up in my eyes with, "And don't get your tears in my sterile field." Thankfully, we don't tolerate such boorish behavior today.
• Charting by hand. Remember charting implants and putting sticker labels in 4 different places? And all those logs and binders? I'm not sure how much things have really changed, though. If you're charting electronically, wouldn't you think putting implant information in the patient's EMR would populate all the other places you need to document the implant?
• Nurses teaching the new grads the ropes. And sometimes hanging them with those ropes. Once while I was setting up for a D&C, a nurse dressed me down like I was an errant child. To this day, even though it's as easy as pie, I can set up for a D&C surgery with my eyes closed. The teachers of the OR in the good ol' days taught you with blind conviction. And until you proved yourself to her and all the other members of the old guard, your place in the OR wasn't secure.

Good ol' days?
We've come a long way, that's for sure. I'm just not certain how much progress we've made. OSM