I love being in charge when the tasks I delegate turn into conversations like this one:
Hey Bonnie, you can go ahead and take out Bed Seventeen's drains. The one in his neck and the one in his manly parts. [Yes, I edited that particular piece of anatomy, for the sake of you non-nurses out there.]
(Several minutes pass while Bonnie works behind a curtain. She finally reappears and sits down next to me at the desk.)
So. Yeah. I took out the drains. After I took out the manly-bit one, he asked me to be his wife.
.
.
.
Repeatedly.
(Which is when we both lost it and laughed until we were teary-eyed.)
Thursday, July 16. 2009
the proposal
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Ah yes, Florence Nightingale syndrome is alive and well
#1
Maggie
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2009-07-16 20:28
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