I don’t know if it’s true for everyone, but certainly any kid who grows up anywhere near the military learns that “hospital corners” – sheets neatly tucked and angled at each corner – is the right way to make a bed. But when I went to make our new bed here in Portugal, I ran into a problem. Y’see, our new bed is what they call a “split king”: a large bed frame with two separate, smaller mattresses.
It’s awesome, in that each side is independently articulated – I can raise my feet up after a long day walking, while he can raise his head to sit up and read. But it does make half the corners inaccessible unless you’re kneeling on the bed – which prevents pulling the sheets tight. And of course, they share a center line so once one side is neat, trying to do the other is going to mess it up again.
I spent quite a bit of time trying to figure out how to get this right. I did find an answer – but not where I expected. I found it in the questions I used to ask users in my old workplace.
Getting people to reexamine the way they do things is hard! People often don’t know why they are doing tasks in a specific way, so they don’t know which parts of it can be reimagined to make their work easier. Or they are so used to doing it a certain way, any change is disruptive and feels harder. But (I have explained endlessly, mostly to deaf and stubborn ears) if we can make it easier, faster, smoother, fewer steps – it will be harder for a few weeks as we transition, then easier and faster forever.
So, I listened to my own advice, and stopped to ask why I needed hospital corners.
- Do they impact the effectiveness of the bedding? Nope.
- Do they impact the quality of my sleep? Nope.
- Does their presence or absence have any impact on the maintenance of the bed or wear and tear on the sheets? Nope
OK, so it’s an aesthetic thing. That’s still legit – we are happier and more comfortable when our environment is pleasing to us, right?
- Can anyone see the corners once the bed is made? Heck, even I can’t tell they’re there.
In a barracks full of bunks, having everyone do things the same way adds uniformity. Hospital corners ensure a tidy appearance. For recruits who all arrive with different ways of doing things, getting aligned on simple tasks is a lesson in adaptation, in being open to new ways, and to not assuming that what worked for you “back on the block” is the right answer in your new military unit.
Outside of a barracks? I mean, I guess as military kids, it was evidence of good order and discipline? Let our parents feel like they were in charge? Was a clear picture of what was “right” and “acceptable” when you were told to go make your bed?
The thing is – I’m not a soldier or a military kid any more. On our old bed, it was easy, and didn’t take any longer than any other way of making the bed, so there was no down side to “doing it the way I had always done it” – and it was comfortable.
But that was then. Now, it’s a hassle. And at first, I was making myself crazy trying to figure out how to solve the problem of managing hospital corners on this bed. Turns out, it was a problem that didn’t need to be solved.
Bernie and I – and, of course, Angel – find the bed perfectly comfy. Our room is suitably tidy and relaxing, and making the bed is a breeze because – no more hospital corners!
Im leaving lots of “hospital corners” behind lately, it seems – tasks and practices that served me once but don’t have a function in my “new life” here in Portugal. And you know what? My blood pressure is lower. My stress level is nearly nonexistent. I’m happier, more energetic, and more relaxed since I started leaving things like hospital corners behind.
