Laughing at Myself

Today was a pretty big day for me...I had the first part of my pre-employment screening at my new hospital. Phase I was a drug screening, 1 of 2 serial TB tests and blood draw for titers. Phase II will be Friday when I have my physical and TB test read and then I start my new job Monday - woot woot!! Anyway, I digress...I had to get up pretty early this morning because I have a fairly hefty commute from home to where I will be working (60 highway miles - 1 hour 5 minutes). I took a shower, dried and straightened my hair, put on make-up (something I don't do every day these days) and put on some new jeans that I had never worn just to build up my confidence and get myself in a great frame of mind. I thought I was looking pretty ok and I embarked on my morning journey.

I sat through the interrogation by the employee health nurse, walked to and from the potty where I left my sample, whipped out my arm for my TB test ... all the while making small talk and feeling fairly confident. When it was done, I said my good-byes and walked out the door, down the hall, got in the elevator (which was full) and got out on the main level headed to the lab for my blood draw. I took a few steps out of the elevator when I heard a woman's voice saying, "Ma'am, ma'am". I turned around and there was a sweet-faced young woman right behind me. She reached down and ripped the size sticker right off my brand-new jeans.

My first reaction was utter and complete mortification. I had gone through the whole ordeal of Phase I and not a soul in that employee health office wanted to tell me that I had a sticker on my pants. Not a one of those sweet employee health nurses who felt comfortable taking my plastic container of pee would de-sticker me. I just pictured being the butt of some laughter after I left the office...imagining them saying, "Did you see that newbie nurse who wore brand new jeans for today and forgot to take that sticker off? Ha ha ha ha." Let alone the fact that I don't want anyone to actually KNOW the size of my pants.

After a few minutes of mortification and some paranoid thoughts about what this incident means for my coming career the heart-stopping embarassment subsided and I had a very mature thought (which doesn't happen to me very often)...I thought that this incident with all it's momentary horror is really nothing more than something to humble me, to make me laugh at myself. I'm human. I get toilet paper on my shoe, am occasionally caught zoning out, put my foot in my mouth some times and leave size stickers on my new jeans. It's ok. It's not mortification material. Who cares that I will forever be "new jeans girl" in the employee health office?!? Not me, really. All I care about is that I might be fine with the human that I am...even to the point of laughing at myself every now and then.