

I made an OR preference card for a surgeon who has never once said thank you
Fellow OR people. I built the most accurate preference card of my career and it is for no surgeon in particular and somehow every surgeon I've ever scrubbed for.
A preview:
POSITIONING
\- Supine. He'll reposition it himself, sigh, then put it back exactly where you had it.
\- Bed height: wrong. Adjust until correct. You will not find correct.
INSTRUMENTS
\- His personal scissors, the ones with the tape on them. Never the good scissors.
\- One (1) instrument that does not exist. Nod. Hand him a Kelly. He accepts it.
PREP & DRAPE
\- ChloraPrep. Becomes a "betadine case" the moment you open the ChloraPrep.
\- Big drape goes on correct. He flips it. It was correct. Now it's also correct, but his.
TOP HINTS
\- No eye contact during the dissection.
\- "I don't need the cholangiogram" = set up the cholangiogram.
\- If he goes silent, you're open. Open the tray you already opened.
Full thing has meds, sutures, dressings, specimens, counts, and a whole scrub-tech workflow.
Full disclosure, I'm an OR nurse and I built a little tool that generates these case briefs (the real, non-satire kind), and I made this one in it as a joke. Card's in the comments if you want to read the whole thing or roast it. Just thought you'd appreciate the bit.
To OR Nurses: THE UNIVERSAL PREFERENCE CARD
For any case, any service, any surgeon. You’ll know him, or her, or it.
The card they actually need. Works for a lap chole, a Whipple, an I&D, a code in the next room they wander into uninvited. One card. Every case. Every time.
## NOTES
- will convert to open; we do not speak of this)
- Scheduled time: 45 min · Block: 4 hours
- 0730 start. He arrives 0835, scrubbed and annoyed the room "isn't ready." It's been ready since 0715.
- Time-out: you run it perfectly. He answers the name check with "yep" and scrolls his phone through site verification.
- "Quick case." Three hours appear from nowhere.
## POSITIONING
- However you position it, he will reposition it himself, sigh, then put it back exactly where you had it.
- Bed height: wrong. Adjust until correct. You will not find correct.
- Whatever’s tucked, he’ll ask why it’s tucked. Whatever’s out, he’ll want it tucked.
- “This should be quick.” Open the long table. Open the second long table.
## ROOM
- 62°F for him, hypothermia for the patient. Patient wins. He does not lose gracefully.
- His playlist, loud enough to mishear the one count that matters.
- Lights off → on → “who turned the lights on.”
- A piece of equipment “just in case.” It is never just in case.
## INSTRUMENTS
- His personal scissors, the taped ones. Never the good scissors.
- A driver he’ll only call “the right one.”
- The setup is correct. He rearranges it into the identical setup and calls it better.
- One. Yes, one instrument that does not exist. Nod. Hand him a Kelly. He accepts it. “Perfect.”
## PREP & DRAPE
- Prep wide. “Why so wide.” Prep narrow. “I can’t see anything.” There is no correct border.
- Three-minute dry time. He says “that’s good” at ninety seconds. You work for the clock, not him.
- Big drape goes on correct. He flips it. It was correct. Now it’s also correct, but his.
- Bovie and suction clipped exactly where he wants them. He moves them. Asks who moved them.
## SUTURES
- Whatever you opened, he wanted the other one. Open the other one. He wanted the first.
- “The other one.” There is no other one. You open another one. He uses the first.
- Skin closure decided in real time, out loud, twice, landing on the one you didn’t open.
## SPECIMENS
- Dropped in your field, no name, no site: “you know what this is.” You don’t. You label it correctly anyway, under oath, in ink.
- “Send it fresh.” You hold the fresh cup. “Why isn’t it in formalin.” He wanted it fresh. Eleven seconds ago.
- 5:55 PM: “let’s get a frozen.” You make the call and absorb the sigh from both ends of the phone at once.
- “Don’t lose it,” said about a 3mm node, to the one person who has never lost a specimen, over the open biohazard bag.
## COUNTS
- Initial: correct.
- He adds a lap off the field “real quick.”
- “It’s not in there,” said with total certainty by the one person who cannot possibly know that. It is, statistically, often in there.
- Final: a personal journey for everyone in the room.
## CLOSURE
- Suddenly urgent. He’s narrating to the resident, dictating in his head, and asking who moved the Bovie. You did. Where he wanted it.
## DRESSING
- “Just a simple dressing.” You build simple. “Where’s the abd pad.” You add it. “Why’s it so bulky.” Because of the abd pad. The one he requested. Nine seconds ago.
- Dated, timed, initialed in ink. He looks right at it and asks when it was placed.
## UNIVERSAL HINTS
- No eye contact. Ever.
- If he goes silent, you’re open. Open the tray you already opened.
- “We definitely won’t need it” = set it up.
- “Almost done” has no relationship to time as you understand it.
- Glove size changes with his mood. 7.5 today. Probably.
- Warm irrigation. “This is cold.” It is not cold. You warmed it. It is not cold.
## POST-OP — THE REVIEW
- He’s in the hallway calling it “textbook” before the resident starts closing. You're still counting. You're always still counting.
- Sign out time. He’s already out the door.
I made an OR preference card for a surgeon who has never once said thank you
Fellow OR people. I built the most accurate preference card of my career and it is for no surgeon in particular and somehow every surgeon I've ever scrubbed for.
A preview:
POSITIONING
\- Supine. He'll reposition it himself, sigh, then put it back exactly where you had it.
\- Bed height: wrong. Adjust until correct. You will not find correct.
INSTRUMENTS
\- His personal scissors, the ones with the tape on them. Never the good scissors.
\- One (1) instrument that does not exist. Nod. Hand him a Kelly. He accepts it.
PREP & DRAPE
\- ChloraPrep. Becomes a "betadine case" the moment you open the ChloraPrep.
\- Big drape goes on correct. He flips it. It was correct. Now it's also correct, but his.
TOP HINTS
\- No eye contact during the dissection.
\- "I don't need the cholangiogram" = set up the cholangiogram.
\- If he goes silent, you're open. Open the tray you already opened.
Full thing has meds, sutures, dressings, specimens, counts, and a whole scrub-tech workflow. Counts section nearly made me feel things.
Full disclosure since I'm not trying to be sneaky: I'm an OR nurse and I built a little tool that generates these cards (the real, non-satire kind), and I made this one in it as a joke. Card's in the comments if you want to read the whole thing or roast it. Not selling anything to anyone in here, just thought you'd appreciate the bit.