Nurses!

Nurses!
Good grief!
They
With their knowledges and capacities like
Convert minims to pounds to drams to litres to cubic centimeters
All on the spot
While driving all day all across the region
[NOT just across town]
To take care of SICK/DYING people, persons, wives, husbands, great-grandfathers, sisters, brothers,
Moms…Dad.
Lovingly…
tenderly…
professionally…
Taking vital signs, giving medications, ordering medications
Convincing DOCTORS
Then, writing reports
Writing reports
Writing reports
Writing reports and making chart entries
And entering finger taps in the tablet for
Electronic medical records while OF COURSE the battery is in the red about to be fully depleted
But not nurses, they, who lose sleep, but rarely their charm
Cuz they don’t run out of energy or become depleted or are too busy
Until they collapse at their cubicle desk after all night on-call dealing with us!
Nurses!
God Bless Them!

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About Kitt

Sometimes a rhyme or couplet wanders across my consciousness. So, I share it. Other times I'm a hospice social worker; others, a Dad; others, southerner, New Orleanian, cajun enthusiast, voter, and on better days, a not-too-awful-poet/rhymster. Welcome to my page. Enjoy.

Posted on September 9, 2014, in Poem. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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