| OCR Text |
Show 346 of Versed, would really rather be somewhere else. Would really rather not have been assigned this patient. Would really rather be home, or at a movie or on a date. Is this what Flo is saying? "I can't really speak for anyone else," she is saying as we slow once again for the final quarter mile. "But I enjoy having you for my patient. And I know you have never been mean to me even when you are zoned out of your mind on massive doses of Versed." She is looking down at me, grinning, remembering. It may be that I will never understand the issue. I am happy, however, that I have never been mean to Flo. We are coming back into my room, breathless and with healthy red cheeks. The air there still smells of Alfredo sauce and I despair getting back into the bed. How many people have died there? I always wonder. Flo leaves to do some charting and I am looking around at my small living space. I am not yet able to go home. But maybe I could ask for a new painting. Maybe we could move the bed closer to the window. Maybe we could simply decrease the Versed more rapidly and I could just go home sooner. Since I have this very day been declared happy and not depressed, I will consider this a thought worth pursuing. |
