Wow, Wow and Holy Cow
I have been more outgoing over the last few years. It may have been the
twenty eight years as a nursing supervisor that has made me blossom. Being
exposed to so many people, problems, and possibilities has changed me I am
sure.
In my youth, I was a chubby and had the feeling that I was for the most
part an outsider. Only my quick wit and barbed remarks gained any respect for
me. I think that is why I like to write, and to play with words. They give me
an outlet for my thoughts. Recently I have been more open in sharing my thoughts
as I write them down and have lately been able to share them verbally, reading
in front of small audiences.
My mom gave me the love of words. She used to read to us and would sing a
song or a chorus about a word or phrase we would say as kids. Something would
make a connection in her brain and she would sing to us. At work I started to
do the same, only I didn’t know as many songs, so I shared a chorus, a story,
or a joke instead. I am sure that it drove my colleagues crazy, but it helped
me to relax.
It may sound odd, (no comment please) but I have started to do that in
public to complete strangers. At a checkout line or while they were shopping
and talking to a friend, I would overhear a word or a phrase and comment on it.
I have even been known to break out in song on occasion. I would have never
done that five years ago. I am sure that part of my boldness and courage comes
from the lack of adult stimulation.
At the hospital I was always surrounded by people and I miss those
friends and acquaintances. As a nursing supervisor, I was able to go to all
areas of the hospital and there were few people that I did not meet or know. I
was in charge of the whole hospital on the off shifts and on the weekends and
was able to interact with almost everybody who worked there. It was a veritable
feast, a vast panorama of conversation, a plethora of people with whom I could
interact.
As I made my rounds I was invited to look at photographs of new babies,
weddings, and vacations. I was able to live vicariously through their photos. I
was invited to be a part of their family and to share their special events.
There was a set of photographs on the counter. A single picture that was
part of the stack was the most vivid and the least likely for me to forget. The
nurse had gone to one of the Caribbean islands. She asked if I had time to look
at her photographs. When I was asked, I always made time to look at them, even
if I had to hurry through some of my other duties.
Now this nurse had a square face and shorter cut hair. Her torso was
normal sized, but it became super-sized from the waist down. Her hips, thighs,
and legs were very large.
As I was flipping through the photos, I was enjoying the surf, sand, and
scenery. I did notice that the other nurses on the unit were watching closely me
as I thumbed through the pictures. (I should have known something was up.) About
three quarter of the way through them I saw a picture of a person lying prone
on the beach. The torso was lifted up on elbows and the face was staring at the
camera. It was a very masculine face and I was about to ask if this man was
someone who joined her for the trip. It was then I noticed that the person in
the picture had breasts and they were hanging down, partially hidden by the
person’s upper arms. I had overlooked them at first glance.
I was shocked. My mouth was open in stunned amazement.
When I glanced up, the nurses who had been watching me were smiling. They
knew what I had seen, and said so with a “We know what you just saw.” twinkling
in their eyes.
I didn’t say a word, but did a quick flip through the rest of the photos,
praying there wasn’t a repeat in the stack. There wasn’t another nudie, but
after that incident, I was a little more selective and judicious in which
pictures I viewed. To this day, I am not sure why she would have kept that
picture in her stack even to share with her other women coworkers.
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