Despite the gravity of what we do as surgeons - the lives entrusted in us, the technical and complex procedures - most people don't really get what it's like to be in the operating room. The absurdity of it all.
The process of scrubbing in, for all its misrepresentation on popular television, is such a zen experience. Probably akin to a fancy spa treatment, except with potentially carcinogenic astringent soap.
You get to take three minutes to yourself, amidst all the ever-expanding obligations of the work day, and singularly focus on cleaning your fingernails and exfoliating your arms. Sure, you're also thinking about the case looming large in front of you. But if you're the tiniest bit OCD like me you have a specific pattern of washing each finger then hand then arm in ritualistic pre-determined aliquots that is immensely calming. In a rush you can do the goopy sterile scrub gel that leaves your arms sticky all day and makes your tragically-unfeminine-but-obligatorily-mammalian arm hair feel weird, but when you have the time to scrub you should take it.
Upon entering the operating room, by either a fancy automatic door or [more often] by a completely awkward hip-bumping action, you get fresh little towels to dry yourself while waiting for the tech or nurse to dress you. Some minor amount of coordination is required to towel yourself off without either touching your arms or the towel to your scrubs but not nearly as much as the over-exaggerated arm positioning seen on TV [or in a certain two-year-old's photograph].
The process of getting gowned and gloved carries almost the pomp-and-circumstance of a fancy lady in her chamber getting dressed for the day. It's not that you can not do it yourself, you just usually are not allowed to by the surgical techs and nurses, the gatekeepers of sterility. To step into a gown you literally have to almost hug the person gowning you, so there's no use making enemies in the OR. It's actually quite funny if you get embarrassed easily. And a good reason to make sure you're always freshly showered and deodorized. Then someone has to tie you in from behind. [Another reason to stay fresh and a subtle reminder to stay somewhat fit so you can avoid the awkward scenario of the Velcro or ties not completely fitting around you]. It's actually quite intimate, how many people are potentially touching your body, how much trust you put in your team - that they won't tie your neck too tight or pull your hair or secretly judge how lumpy you look in those scrubs.
Gloves are another funny thing. I double-glove because I was taught early on to have added protection against bloodborne pathogens, so I have double the chances of putting my fingers in wrong and having Vulcan fingers or two left hands and other anomalies. I also was taught to be assertive with my gloving, akin to a strong handshake that expresses my confidence and leadership-ability, and many a glove has been sacrificed in the name of over-aggression. Finally it all ends with a spinning twirl - which actually is called dancing - that completes the process of wrapping you up like a paper burrito. Then you can begin.
It's amazing how unsoilable you feel once you're covered with merely two layers of synthetic rubber and a thin layer of paper. Ready to dive in to the darkest and dirtiest places and walk away unscathed. I have literally been elbows-deep into some body cavities without batting an eyelash. You also get into some funny positions with your co-surgeons and assistants; it's like a game of Twister. Bumping heads to fight for lighting or visualization, or literally squeezing together to try to share a space meant for only one person between wires and suction tubing and camera equipment. There is no personal bubble in the sterile field. In a classic forgetful style, it's also not uncommon to have to let someone reach under your gown and into your shirt or pants pocket to find an annoyingly persistent cell phone [that literally only rings when you've created an obnoxious ring tone because no one ever calls]; which in any other circumstance would be a chargeable offense.
All of this is second nature to me now. Just part of the job. But occasionally it makes me smirk under my mask. Life.
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