If you’ve never done it before, putting on a contact isolation gown can be quite tricky. It might be easier to put on a straitjacket. Here’s our step-by-step guide, walking you through each step and what you should be thinking.
STEP 1: “F**k! Why’s the patient in isolation?”
Good question. We’re not sure either. Nobody knows. Hope it isn’t Pseudomonas or C. diff or some sh*t like that.
STEP 2: “Where are the gowns?”
You’d think there’d be gowns by the patient’s door. Hahaha! Hilarious! (Stupid effing gowns.)
STEP 3: “Can I pull him off isolation?”
No, you can’t. Man up, go to a supply room, and find a gown.
STEP 4: “Woohoo, I found one!”
It’s about time. Now briefly ponder how much an isolation gown costs and how many trees were slaughtered to make one.
STEP 5: “WTF, how the hell do I put this on?”
F**k if we know! Every time, we end up putting our arms through the neck hole. Every time! And don’t get us started on…
STEP 6: “Damn it, that tie thingie ripped!”
…That stupid tie? It always freaking rips! Why? Repeat after me: “Piece. Of. Sh*t.”
STEP 7: “Ugh, I need a new gown.”
Ugh is right. Isolation gowns are flimsier than contact precautions stethoscopes. Maybe there’s a Dior isolation ballroom gown lying around?
STEP 8: “Darn it, I ripped the second gown!”
As if you’re surprised. You knew that was going to happen. Remember that phrase we asked you to repeat?
STEP 9: “F**k you, gown!”
That’s the spirit! Screw the gown! Screw contact precautions! Crumple it up and throw it at a passing student. Put on some gloves and be “extra careful” in that room. That’s what we call superior sterile technique.
STEP 10: “Now can I pull him off isolation?”
Of course! Why didn’t you do that earlier?
