If you’re a regular reader of the blog, you know how I feel about smells and cleanliness. This leads to the question of why am I in nursing school considering this. Answer: I want to help people like my grandfather did and I want to wear scrubs everyday (they’re like pajamas). I digress. Back to cleanliness.
As a nursing student, it is part of my job to do morning care on patients. Bathing, feeding, changing linens, diapers, and about a million other things. Most of the patients can do these things on their own, but on the patients that need help, I lend a hand out to them. So let me set this up, patient has recently fallen at home, lives with her family who gives her total care because “long-term care facilities are terrible because they don’t take care of the patients,” and it’s time for me to give her a bed bath.
Now I know what you’re thinking, bed baths aren’t funny. I agree. They aren’t funny. It’s just like it sounds, a bad that is given in bed, so let’s skip the part that you want to read about: the gross part.
Alright, so I’ve washed her upper torso and now I’m getting to her abdominal area. So I get a wash rag, cleaning her tummy and I notice something in her belly button. I’m thinking lint, no big deal. I was only partially right. It was hard so I pick at it and pull out this rock. It was bellybutton lint that had calcified.
Calcified. Bellybutton. Lint.
Hell yeah I gagged when I pulled it out. Who the hell let’s bellybutton lint get to that point? People who think that LTC facilities are terrible because they don’t take care of the patients, that’s who let’s bellybutton lint get to that point.
I really wish I had a picture of it, but then I’d have to go scrub out my bellybutton and throw up from reliving that awful moment. Instead here is a creepy guy who collects his bellybutton lint.
I would hate to be walking down a dark alley and run into this guy.