I'm a thinker. I've always been a thinker. My mother always told me I was a thinker. From as early as I can remember, my mind has always been active.
I thought about everything I observed in the world and asked questions about most of them. All through school, I questioned my teachers, frequently spacing out thinking about better ways to do what they were teaching.
In high school, Life Sciences, Biology and Chemistry were my primary interests but everything else, from History to Mathematics were still of interest. Theology, Philosophy and Archeology were always present somewhere in my mind.. My constant mental gymnastics left little time for a social life, so I spent most of my time reading, everything from Scientific American to adventure novels and comic books.
I thought of becoming a Chemist as a career. One year of college changed my opinion. Chemistry seemed to be mostly settled science. New discoveries seemed to be from tedious laboratory trial and error experiments. I looked into Physics where advances in the field seemed to be from thought experiments that encompassed "Aha" moments.
One look at the mathematics of Physics quickly adjusted my thinking. I became a pre-medical student. Medicine seemed to be ever changing, new thoughts about everything from diet to exercise seemed everyday occurrences. I thought the field relied too much on pharmacology and could use some new direction seeking causes rather than treating symptoms. Studying the human body also had serious appeal, especially the human female body.
My name is Isaac. I'm twenty eight years old and currently an intern in emergency medicine at a hospital in Nebraska. Why Nebraska? Easy answer, I'm just a little nuts about medicine and women and the coeds from Nebraska on the internet grabbed my attention, so, I thought I'd combine my two interests and move closer.
I'm still questioning everything although most of my questions don't get answers. I've moved from questions like why is the sky blue and why does the wind blow, to more esoteric questions like is there a common element to all viruses that would lead to a generic cure and what do nurses wear under their scrubs? Yes, I'm a young dirty old man.
I don't have a lot of spare time as an intern but this last question occupies much of my time when I'm off the schedule. Nurses are everywhere in the hospital. It's impossible not to see at least one nurse wherever you look. So, what do nurses wear under their scrubs? Most would answer they wore the same thing they would wear under their other outfits, panties and bras.
But that's not the only options. Nursing is a physical occupation. They're on their feet most of the day and work with sick people who are not always easy to work with. The patients don't like being sick and the nurses are the hospital staff they see the most often. For most nurses, comfort and flexibility are the most important elements in how they dress on the job. Nurses are constantly looking for the most practical yet comfortable shoes, why not the most practical and comfortable underwear?
My guess is that, for many nurses, regular bras can be too tight and restrictive. Their options might include sports bras or no bra at all. I can't think of a similar option for panties. Almost any style of panty would do, even none at all. I realize that last option is unrealistic but one can hope.
Research in what nurses wore under their scrubs, is more difficult than it seems. I do date nurses but under those circumstances they don't wear scrubs. They wear more appropriate social outfits and, generally, that includes appropriate underwear. Given the variation I've noticed in women's underwear while dating, including none, it's not a stretch to conclude that similar variation exists under nurse's scrubs.
How to find out?
I concluded that I'd just have to ask.
Creating the opportunity to ask was the next issue. Fortunately, I'm a pretty friendly guy and occasionally a nurse or two will share a table with me in the cafeteria during a break or meal. I was sitting at a corner table in the cafeteria one evening, enjoying a pair or chocolate iced donuts and a Styrofoam cup of coffee, when Junita walked over to me carrying a cup of coffee of her own.
"Hey, Ike. Mind if I join you?" she asked.
Ike is my nickname among the hospital staff. When I got here eight months ago, someone labeled me as "intern Isaac." That lasted for about two weeks before someone else shortened it to "intern Ike." Now it's just "Ike."
I've never been one to refuse a request from a pretty woman and Junita qualified, so I offered her a seat at the table. Junita is indeed a pretty woman. She's about five foot-four, with pixie cut dark brown hair, gorgeous brown eyes and a smile that stops conversation. Her lithe body doesn't fill out her scrubs and her hips and backside barely shape her trousers. However, her playful demeanor and inability to refuse a dare make her someone everybody likes to be around.
I offered her a seat and she sat down. She took a sip of her coffee and eyed my donuts. "Those look pretty good," she commented.
I pushed one in her direction.
"For me?" she gushed. "You're just so generous," she added in her best Southern Belle imitation.
Junita was a perfect subject to ask the outstanding question of the day. What do nurses wear under their scrubs? Junita was a nurse and she was wearing scrubs. Her answer wouldn't be conclusive but it would be an important first data point.
How to ask? Should I steer the conversation in a direction that would lead naturally to the question or should I just ask? Not only am I always thinking and asking questions, I'm impatient for answers.
"Junita," I started. "Can I ask you a question?"
"You've been thinking again, haven't you?" asked Junita.
"I'm always thinking," I answered.
"And you have a question that you haven't found the answer to?" she continued.
"I have," I agreed.
"And you think I might be able to answer the question?" she further asked.
"Maybe not completely," I admitted. "But I think you may have an important part of the answer."
"I'm honored that you think so," Junita said. "Ask away."
"Don't be offended," I said.
"Offended? Why would I be offended?" Junita reacted.
"It's a personal question," I explained continuing to procrastinate.
"Geez, Isaac. Just ask the question," stated Junita.
"Okay. "What are you wearing under your scrubs?"
Junita looked silently at me for a moment. "That's not what I expected," she said.
"Don't be offended," I reminded her.
"I'm not offended," she calmed me. "But why do you want to know what I'm wearing under my scrubs?"
"Not you specifically," I explained. "Nurses in general. You're a nurse. I didn't mean to make it personal and your answer is only one data point in characterizing a whole group of nurses."
"That's comforting," Junita said. "Do you want me to just answer or do you want me to show you?"
"I can't imagine you'd show me," I conceded.
"Would you believe me if I just answered?" she asked.
"I would," I insisted.
"But it wouldn't be definitive without physical evidence," Junita enlightened me.
"Is Junita trying to tell me she would rather show me than tell me?" I asked myself. "How should I respond to her insistence?"
"I concede your point," I told her. "But I leave the decision how you should respond to you. You could also decide to not answer at all."
"Here?" Junita asked.
That answer was full of promise. I concluded that she planned to show me rather than tell me or not answer.
"Here is not the appropriate place," I told her.
"Then where?" she asked.
I thought that I was learning things about Junita beyond what she was wearing under her scrubs. I thought for a moment where showing me would be private. "There's a room on the third floor where interns and residents go to catch some sleep when they're too tired to work without rest," I suggested.
"I know where that is," Junita said. "Meet you there in ten minutes," she said as she stood up, leaving a half eaten donut and her coffee on the table.
I picked up our cups and followed her. I ate the rest of her donut on the way to the trash receptacle.
I arrived at the room on the third floor before Junita. I checked it for anyone else. It was empty. I put the do not disturb sign on the door and sat on a cot to wait. A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door.
"Enter," I said.
Junita entered, closed the door. She sat on the cot on the opposite wall facing me. "How do you want to go about this?" she asked.
