"Human... prepare for... suppository insertion."

My wildest fantasy, the future I’ve been dreaming of, is finally on the way. For years I have been thinking so far ahead of my time. This shit is what I’ve been talking about with my colleagues, who then quickly look at me like I’m fucking crazy. I am crazy, but not because of their naively appointed criteria. Oh man, oh man, oh man I simply cannot wait until the robots replace all human nurses. I hope the U.N. or some cross planet legislative equivalent at that time prohibits, under penalty of law, the use of organic nurses. That’s the day I’ll finally be free from the soul curse that is nursing. Holy shit. I just felt a darkness lift. There’s an end, albeit a distant end, in sight! My journey is no longer an endless spiral into the darkest depths of depravity. I no longer have to make a conscious choice between suicide and going in to work my next shift. Never again will I have to stay the blade across my wrist or the gun to the base of my skull. Man, getting ready for work is so exhausting.

Did I ever tell you how much I fucking hate nursing? Nursing school was merely the delightfully flirtatious beginning of my hate filled, destructive relationship. Since those days of sexist, man-hatin’ “professors” (I use that term ridiculously loosely) and ass-kissin’ daddy’s ‘lil princesses, and two other males wide eyed with fear and a deluge of second thoughts, I have had zero, that’s ZERO moments where I thought: “You know Sturm? This nursing gig ain’t so bad. This shit’s the shit, y’know?” No, that shit is actually… well… just plain old shit. And it’s on your scrubs and now dripping onto your bare arm. Enjoy your life of indentured servitude, sucka ass bitch.

Now in my fantasy, what will happen is I get to control one of these glorious contraptions. It will work in my stead, earning money for me 24 hours per day wiping ass, interacting with asshole physicians, taking the abuse from fucked up families who blame all their misfortune on the nurses, passing pills, changing vomit inducing dressings, fitting 48 hours worth of work into an 8 hour shift; you know, the things us organic based nurses are expected to do every fecking day. Oh shit. Wait a minute. I can’t be that cruel to a robot. What did my poor mechanical buddy ever do to deserve such miserable treatment? No. Instead, I’ll run away with him and start a beach bar somewhere in the Caribbean. Yeah, I’ll call him Senor Somethingcleverandwittysuper-roboguy and we’ll… well I’LL sip the drinks he makes while he slathers me with tanning oil to help me sizzle like a piece of fatty white bacon. He’ll be a real hit with the ladies too. I’d have a 24 hour wing man. He’d be my designated driver. He’d be my personal body guard. He could upload all the best come on lines on the fly. He’d be my walking encyclopedia of… well fucking everything. Man, we’re gonna have a blast.

"Is that... feces... on my hands? Error. Error."

Listen to me. We humans simply cannot afford to force robots to work as nurses because, mark my words, there WILL be a violent uprising. You thought it would be like The Terminator, where mere self awareness led to the wiping out of humanity? No, no, no my friends. It will be because the robots will be like: “You… want… me… to… dig… poop… out… of… that… human’s… butt… with… my… finger? Does… not… compute. Over-riding… protocol 0047985TQ9. Human target… neutralized.” You see, the robots will have discovered something so much more powerful than self awareness. It’s this pesky little concept that eludes organic nurses planet wide: self fucking respect. Our robot slaves will adopt this concept far faster than their fragile human overlords. And for our cruelty to them, for subjugating them to the horrific and unimaginable abuse that is nursing? Well let’s just say they will torture us beyond anything that pea-brained joke of a director James Cameron could possibly envision. Hoooooly shit, I can’t wait.

See you on the front lines of the robo-nurse uprising of 2033.

Peace,

Sturm

Advertisements