28 Feb 2024
Paraphrasing Busta Rhymes, experienced RVN Carly Kilby offers an alternative take on sterile theatre practices for those who might consider it all “a bit of a faff”.
Image © herraez / Adobe Stock
Theatre practice. It’s a funny world, the world of asepsis and sterility.
To an alien, the rituals we go through to prevent infection – our repetitive, obsessive attitude towards touching certain things after a period of cleansing – must seem very bizarre.
And this weird ritual continues once we enter theatre:
The rules are endless, and all you want to do out of that list is scratch the itch that immediately occurs once you’ve gowned up. The intrusive thoughts start to appear:
It’s a ritual created through years of research and ultimate necessity. It’s a serious subject that our profession is trying extremely hard to dominate. The overuse of antibiotics in our environment has created a potential crisis and we are doing our best to combat our need to use them by performing gold standard theatre practice at the very least.
I recently took my children to my place of work and showed them the theatres and sterile corridor. When I had to explain the restrictions on what you should be wearing, who is allowed in these areas and the “clean” procedures that happened in this part of the building and the “dirty” procedures on the opposite side of the building, their words were “what a faff”.
And they’re right, it is a faff to the untrained and uneducated. But I love it.
Theatre is a very stressful environment to be in. The surgeons must concentrate on the operation, the nurses must concentrate on the anaesthesia. You’re in your own little worlds, working independently but harmoniously.
But let’s have a laugh about it. Next time you’re in theatre, start to notice things:
There’s usually an interesting story about the scrub hat they’re wearing, so why not ask if its appropriate to do so!