I know that most of us get a little fussy and whiney at times, but when Mrs. Kilo whined, complained and fussed with any activity, it became tiresome rapidly. I don't even recall what her admitting diagnosis was, (merely 4 days ago); all I remember, was that she had a pretty generous menu of pain relievers, sedatives and anti-anxiety agents at her disposal, and I administered them. No harm was done. She never stopped breathing and the shift passed without undue stress. The next night, I got lucky....she shipped out 90 minutes after the start of my shift. Her exit was marred by the following event, described below.



Cursing Her Bowels

Over there in yonder corner
In that room beyond the door,
Weighing in at 140 kilo's
I have to tell you, she's a chore.

50 years old and whining
Like a child, over-pampered and spoiled,
Blaming "everybody" before me
"They ignored me all day, and I'm soiled".

Demanding attention, crying and fussing
Barely lifting a finger, for herself,
Reminds me of the "Eats and Poops Baby Doll"
Sitting on a Toys-R-Us shelf.

I ponder my options, what would Jesus do?
Give a baptismal bath and some towels?
Cleanup with compassion and my BillyBob smile
While silently cursing her bowels.

Fibril_late;
1/15/09