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THE MOST WONDERFUL
PEOPLE IN THE WORLD
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I made some new friends last week. Emma, Karl, Debbie, Rohan,
Abdou and Leticia and I are in love. Our friendship will last a lifetime,
even though I'll never see them again.
They're all nurses at the hospital where the mean doctor cut
me open and replaced my right hip with a new rod and socket. The doctor
did a good job, and all is fine. But she never could give me the emotional
support that the nurses did.
Nurses are the most wonderful people in the world. I was a
mess going into the hospital for my hip replacement, worried about
infections, blood clots and other little things like death. Invariably,
the nurses pulled me out of the doldrums by the sheer force of their
competency and personality.
They are incessantly cheery, every one of them. They exude
compassion and care as they expertly monitor you. They nurture you like
you're one of their own. And they even laugh at your jokes. They are a
special breed, and I love every one of them.
The early morning operation was a success, and I was released
to go home late the same afternoon. Karl and Emma put me in a wheelchair
and brought me down to the curb, where my wife was waiting to take over
the nursing duties.
"This is Karl and Emma," I said to my wife as they
helped me into the car. "I love them. And you've got big shoes to
fill."
My wife introduced herself, not caring a whit that I was in
love with others. She knew it was a fleeting romance and I would never see
them again. But she got the point.
"I love nurses, too," she said as we drove away.
"I just never wanted to be one."
Uh, oh. She was setting the stage. Clearly, the love and
attention that I got in the hospital wasn't necessarily going to transfer
to our house.
I understood. I wouldn't be much of a nurse, either. It
requires attributes that I might have for 24 hours, but not much longer.
To be cheery, compassionate, competent and magnificent each and every
day---well, let's just say that's not going to happen.
As for my wife, there was no harm in testing her. Maybe, deep
down, she had those qualities that would propel her into the nursing
community.
We got home, and she gingerly helped me out of the car,
placing my temporary walker perfectly within my reach. She stood by my
side as I shuffled to the door and then handed me my crutch so I could
carefully climb the stairs to the bedroom.
She made me a nice dinner and served it to me in bed without
even saying "Don't expect this again anytime soon." She brought
me the pills my doctor prescribed, and consistently asked if I needed
anything. So far, so good.
It was only when we went to sleep that Nurse Ratched
appeared. I had to sleep on my back, and that causes me to snore. Nurse
Ratched wasn't happy, waking me numerous times.
"It wouldn't have bothered Karl if I was sleeping with
him," I finally said after being awoken for the 14th time. "Karl
loves me."
"Karl has no idea," she replied, picking up her
pillow and leaving for the other bedroom. "I'll be back when you can
sleep on your side."
Rejuvenated, she was back to being compassionate the next
morning. Throughout the day she was at my beck and call, just like Karl
and Emma and Leticia would have been. I saw promise, but I had to remember
it was still the first 24 hours.
On day two I made the mistake of complaining that she didn't
notice my water glass needed filling. That didn't go over well, especially
when I added that she wouldn't make a very good server at a restaurant.
On day three, seeing that I was making great improvements in
my mobility, she hit the wall. I was thrilled she had made it 48 hours. As
I noted, I'm only good for 24 hours.
"YOU'RE NOT DOING IT RIGHT!" she cried while I was
doing my rehab exercises. "DO IT AGAIN AND BEND YOUR KNEES!"
Then she gave a long sigh and said, "Get started and I'll count it
out."
"YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE A NURSE, NOT A DRILL
SERGEANT!" I screamed while doing the painful exercises. The
honeymoon was over. She had turned into the nurse I would be.
Oh, well. Everyone can't be a Karl. |
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