Are We Conditioned Like Pavlov's Dogs?
How surgical nurses reflexively respond to the sounds of surgery.
Y
ou're busy charting a case. Across the
room you hear the slight sound of a
vendor tearing the plastic from a knee
implant box. You stand up, walk over to the
rep and stretch out your hand to take the
implant out of the box. Yes, you are Pavlov's
dog, conditioned to respond to the sounds
of surgery. Some make us drool. Others
make us foam at the mouth.
• Tones. The pulse oximeter beeps
along and I don't even notice it any-
more. That is, until that tone starts to
plummet. Then my ears perk up like a
German Shepherd's and I'm all up under anesthe-
sia's axilla wanting to know what the crap is
going on and how to make it stop.
• Fire alarms. Causes a guttural growl in me. I
know. We have to do scheduled fire alarm tests to
comply with all the regulatory bosses. But really, the
alarm goes off now and, like everyone else, I barely do
a quick sideways glance while trying to locate where,
in heaven's name, is this patient's urethra. The noise
is annoying enough, but now I have strobe lights
blinding me and I'm having to give it a Hail Mary on
the Foley and hope for the best.
• Cautery alarms. I know they're for patient safe-
ty, but cautery alarms make me foam at the mouth
and utter bad words under my breath. I'll do any-
1 6 2 • O U T PA T I E N T S U R G E R Y M A G A Z I N E • J A N U A R Y 2 0 1 7
Behind Closed Doors
Paula Watkins, RN, CNOR
