Why I am not a nurse

In some people, empathy lives in never-ending stores, like bottomless wells of the stuff. And in me, I have a small bottle of the stuff.

Is that the mo0st fair way to say this? I don't know. I don't laugh at the sufferers. I just was raised in a bit of a bootstrap environment. As in, "pull yourself up by those bootstraps and stop whining and go kick some butt." And when it came to being sick, it was "stand up straight and smile and you'll feel better by lunchtime." Direct quote. Not joking.

So when Earnesto smashed his finger yesterday morning, and was convinced it was broken, I was "oh well, that sucks." It is broken. and he had to bin his carefully crafted schedule to go to the doctor twice to be told yes it is broken, no, we don't do anything about this kind of break.

It's like he is made of papier-mache. He did have a life-threatening illness within the past five years. That will make you take care of yourself better, be a little more cautious. But when he took more time off for a trifling cold than I did for mono, that's outside of enough. Stand up straight, I want to yell, and make yourself feel better. It's only a ring finger.

Maybe that's why, in the Pirate Quizzes, I always get such a good rating. Black spot on my soul (after the Sydney Olympics), and space in my heart, and the like.