OK

I would often leave my clinical shifts during nursing school feeling wholly deflated. At first I thought this was just because they were long shifts and I wanted to do well, so I was stressed the entire time. But, I like to work hard, and I’m used to long shifts so this didn’t really add up. Some days were pointedly worse than others, and one day I noticed a commonality. It was how the nurses I was working with said goodbye.

Certainly, not something I would have thought I gave two shits about. But this is how the day would play out: we arrive to clinical at 5:45 am and get assigned our patients and the nurse or nurses we will be working with. These are the nurses who actually assume care of the patients.  As students, we take on as much responsibility as we can given where we are in school. So, first semester you do your assessments and vitals, primarily CNA work, until you learn about certain meds, then you pass meds at the hospital. I think it was second semester you could start giving IV meds. As time goes on you add on placing IVs and foley catheters, etc. 

We communicate with our nurses when they arrive at 7:00 am where we are in school and what we can do. We’ve had time to look at the chart so we share our plan for what we will do and when we will need assistance. For example, no matter where you are in school, you need a nurse to sign off on giving blood and/or insulin. You also need either the nurse or a clinical instructor to get controlled meds like narcotics.

So, in the beginning of school I had lots of questions for the nurses I worked with, but eventually with patients whose needs were more basic, and toward the end of school, I could often take on all or most of the care for our patients. It was not infrequently that I did not interact with the nurse I was assigned to outside of the 7:00 am introduction and then when I was leaving at the end of the shift, at 7:00 pm. 

When it was time to go, I would find my nurse, tell them I was leaving and thank them for working with me. There were maybe three nurses in all of nursing school who said something along the lines of, “You’re welcome,” or, “Of course,” or “Have a good night.” One nurse thanked me back. She stood out like an angel and I ran into her at a gym out of town randomly and had the opportunity to tell her how much it meant to me.

Most often they would respond with, “Yeah,” with no eye contact, sometimes with a wave that meant “bye” or “shoe,” or both. This I didn't love and left me feeling tired but whatever.

Second most often, the one that really got me, was when they would say, "OK."

They would look me in the eye as I thanked them. Once I was done speaking, they would look me up and down very intentionally. Releasing eye contact to look down to my feet and slowly bringing their gaze back to my eye, and then straight-mouthed, say, “OK.”

“OK,” in a tone that was either flat or had an inflection at the end like, “Remind me again why the fuck you’re talking me right now?” or, “If you’re leaving, why am I still looking at your face?”

An, “OK,” that always left me thinking, “Yeah, fuck me, I’m the out of line one for saying ‘bye’ and ‘thank you.’"

A couple of times I asked if I had missed something or upset them in any way. Both times this caused them to develop an expression like they had just smelled something rank, and say “No!” in annoyance and walk away. 

I decided to stop asking. The questioning OK was more palatable because I could come up with stories about why they were talking to me like that. They just got off the phone with a patient’s family member and they’re really mentally processing that, not what I’m saying, which is why the OK sounds like a question, because in their head they’re thinking, “What’s next, what do I need to do now? You’ve just interrupted me.” and not, “Why the fuck are you still standing here?”

When the OK was followed by an annoyed “no,” though, the only story I could come up with was that they think I’m a fucking idiot.

I’ve read plenty about how we communicate more with our body language and tone than we do with our words. The repeated OK’s I got in nursing school were the perfect example of this to me. So powerful, so effective, so deflating. Is this part of the required learning to become a nurse? ... How to say OK and make someone feel awful.

If you ever want to suck the energy from someone and make them feel like an absolute pile, this is how it is done: let them thank you. Stare them dominatingly in the eye. Pause so the eye contact feels weird for a split second, then look them up and down, and say, “OK.”

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Review

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This story is raw, insightful, and unflinching in its examination of a subtle but deeply impactful form of workplace hostility—microaggressions disguised as indifference. It’s not just about rude goodbyes—it’s about how institutional cultures of dismissal and power dynamics can quietly erode a person’s confidence and sense of belonging.

This writing powerfully captures the emotional toll of being undermined by those who should be mentors. It also offers an important social critique on how toxic workplace environments aren’t always defined by overt harassment but by subtle, consistent signals that diminish and alienate.

The tone is a delicate blend of vulnerability, frustration, and sharp observation. There’s a quiet anger simmering under the surface, but it’s restrained and directed toward understanding why these interactions hurt as much as they do. There’s a moment of clarity as the behavior is recognized as a pattern, not a reflection of worth. The ending—explaining how to suck the energy out of someone—is darkly funny and underscores the frustration with biting wit. Anyone who’s ever felt dismissed by someone in power will connect with this story—whether they’re in healthcare or not.