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More Complete Honesty Pt 7: Nurses before/after The nurses are good to me. They seem to like me, and are always compassionate and concerned. I won one nurse over, punched through her veneer. We were talking, and I for some reason, was chatty. She talked about having a bad knee. "Ahh, you're all set, you could get a peg-leg." I said. She stared at me, angry, wanting to tell me to fuck off, but couldn't. "Uhmmm. Yeah." She said. She was a large woman. Burly but kind. "Just think," I said, "You could get an eyepatch, a bandana, and be a pirate." She seemed to have written me off at that point, not responding. "And I could be your first-mate." I kept on drilling. She laughed loudly, finally getting it. When I left, shuffling lamely outside in my baggy jeans, baggy clothes, and brown doc marten leather boots, she called after me repeatedly, "Are you gonna' be all right?! Are you gonna' be all right!?" "As right as I ever am." I replied. Pause. "Are you sure?" she called, a tremelo in her voice.
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