Extemporaneous musings, occasionally poetic, about life in its richly varied dimensions, especially as relates to history, theology, law, literature, science, by one who is an attorney, ordained minister, historian, writer, and African American.
Monday, October 24, 2016
HEAD NURSE
THE HEAD NURSE!
Heels clicking smartly, rhythmically upon my hospital's highly polished linoleum floor, announce her imminent advent, announce the coming of the dreaded head nurse.
She had been called in, after the empathetic lesser nurses found me to be resistant to the placement of a garden hose-looking implement, they called a catheter in my penis.
She had swept breezily, confidently into my room with a seasoned boldness and professional panache that bespoke, that was indeed so no-nonsense, "in command," that it squashed all dissent and protest.
The curtains fluttered, anticipating.
Flipping back the covers of my bed, after the barest of introductions, she then proceeded to grab my circumstances with one hand, and that garden-hose looking catheter in the other; and before I could fix to holler, she was done and gone, down the hall, clicking those heels!
Head nurses do not play!