BFD

My hospital nurse, who I had the pleasure of being will all 4 days at the hospital, was the head nurse of the sixth floor. Audrey was excellent at logistics, medical practice and bedside manner. Not only did I feel safe under her care, but I was happy to see her and looked forward to her company. She was very sweet and told me a bit about her life – her children. I could tell by her demeanor and her stories that she had a gentle soul.

One day another nurse peaked into my room to ask Audrey for some advice about the Grumpy Old Lady patient from next door. Audrey gave her a solution and told her not to worry, as the patient really was just feisty and cantankerous.

When the nurse left the room Audrey told me a story about the Grumpy Old Lady patient. Grumpy Old Lady liked to remind her that she was walking and taking medicine long before Audrey’s time. Audrey agreed with Grumpy Old Lady patient and then told her that she was all finished with her rounds. The Grumpy Old Lady responded, “B.F.D”. Audrey didn’t know what this meant and was surprised later to learn that everyone else already knew its meaning. She was also *shocked* at the actual meaning of the acronym (and that the lady said it to her).

I told Audrey that not knowing what B.F.D. meant was testimony to what a good person she was. I gave her some wonderful advice: the next time the Grumpy Old Lady said a smart remark to her, she should tell her, “G.F.Y.” “What does that mean?”, Audrey whispered. “Go fuck yourself”, I whispered back. So much for gentle souls. I bet Grumpy Old Lady would have a good laugh, though.

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