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Nurse Dana

10/1/2006

My wife had been ill for a while and eventually needed surgery.

Unfortunately, the surgery did not go well, and complications
set in.
It was necessary for her to spend a good deal of time in a rehab
home,
and this is where I met Nurse Dana.


I always think of her as Nurse Dana, because she was the best
nurse I have ever met. Dana was one of several nurses assigned
to my wife and was always gentle and positive and helpful.
No detail went undone,
nothing ever ruffled her or got any kind of negative remark,
and I felt no question was too dumb to ask. Whenever Dana
was helping my wife, I felt she was in the absolute greatest
hands.


Since it was going to be a few months before my wife could
come home, I
had returned to work and would spend my evenings at the rehab
center
talking with, or reading to, or just watching my wife sleep.
It was a
lot of the latter as my wife was on some strong pain medication,

especially after she began physical therapy. Usually
during these
evenings, since I drove there directly from work, I would
take a break
and get some coffee and maybe a few cookies they kept out
for visitors.
Then I would return to my wife's room for another hour
or so, then go
home for the evening. It made for a long day, but I had a sense
of
duty, and I do love my wife, and I wanted to see her through
this.


It was while I was on one of my evening breaks that Dana sat
down at my
table with a cup of coffee. She too was on a break, and we started

talking about my wife. After a bit, the conversation drifted
to my
work, and how she got into nursing and why she was on the night
shift
and so on. It was just light conversation that acquaintances
thrown
together through some circumstance have. It meant a lot
to me, as I am
sure Dana knew, because my social life was practically
nil at this
time, and having someone to talk to was a genuine pleasure.



After that first evening, Dana and I would talk more casually
whenever
we met. Later, when I learned her routine, I tried to time
my breaks
so we could have coffee together most evenings. It wasn't
that Dana
was coming on to me, nor was I coming on to her. It was just
that she
was such a nice person and our personalities seemed to mesh,
and she
really seemed to care about her work and her patients and
their
visitors. One other thing, if I am being honest, Dana was
one of those
touchy people who almost always made a contact during a
conversation.
She would touch my hand or shoulder or pat my back; nothing
too
personal, but just a way to let me know she cared. The thing
about it
for me, was I needed touching. It had been months before
her
operation, when my wife got sick, that we had had any kind
of intimacy,
and it was going to be a lot longer still before she was capable
or
interested again. I am by nature an affectionate person,
and I was
starving for contact. Dana's little touches were
the only physical
contact I was getting other than a peck hello and goodbye
to my wife,
who more often than not, was sleeping.


I had my routine going and was pretty well into it and could
see some
minor improvement in my wife's condition, so life
was okay, it was just
a matter of toughing it out until things got back to normal.
Then one
evening, Dana threw me a little curve ball. She told me she
was taking
a week's vacation. I was glad for her of course, but
disappointed for
me, I would miss our talks, and if truth be told, her little
touches
too. However, just before she got up from the table where
we'd been
sharing coffee, she pulled one of the center's business
cards out of
her jacket pocket and passed it to me. "If you just
need to talk some
evening, " she said and turned the card over, "here's
my phone number."


"Thanks, Dana, " I said, "But you're
going to be on vacation. I'm sure
you need a break from this place and patients and visitors."



"No, " she said, "I really like what I
do. I'll miss it even for just a
week. And I wouldn't have given you my number if I didn't
want you to
use it." And then she squeezed my hand and left. I sat
there staring
at the card, then looking down the hallway after her just
catching a
glimpse as she rounded a corner.


Her last words struck me so deeply. Had she meant them? Did
she really
want me to call her on her week off? Was she expecting it?
Should I?
Could I? I guess I should say at this point that I didn't
expect anything from
Dana as a woman. As a nurse, yes, but not as a woman. First
of all,
she was at least 10 or more years younger than me, probably
in her
early 30's while I was in my late 40's. Second of
all, she was pretty,
or at least what I considered pretty. She would have plenty
of men
calling her and asking her out. She didn't need some
old guy like me
bugging her on her time off. And thirdly, my wife was one
of her
patients. She knew my wife and seemed to care about her on
a personal
level. So I wasn't going to call Dana... except she
said I should,
that she wanted me to... hmmm.


That was on a Friday evening. It had been a busy weekend taking
care of
the house and laundry and going to the cleaners, and running
errands
and paying bills, all the stuff one has to do when he's
alone, plus I
had to make time to spend a few hours each day with my wife.
Then on
Monday, things at work got bad, some order got screwed up,
a couple of
people were out sick, so we were short handed, and the boss
was in a
tirade. By Wednesday night, I was worn down to a deep funk.
When I
got to the clinic, my wife had had a rough day of therapy,
and was
frustrated with them making her do things it hurt her to
do even though
they were good for her, and she finally asked for a good dose
of pain
medication and was out for the night. I was sitting at a table

drinking coffee, fishing in my suit coat pocket for a pen
to write some
questions to ask the therapists, when I came across the
card with
Dana's number.


If I ever needed to talk with Dana, now was the time. If nothing
else,
I could ask her a few questions about what was happening
with my wife's
therapy. It seemed as if there were few people who actively
were
involved with my wife's case still on duty by the time
I got to the
clinic each night, just the night nurses who got what medication
info
they needed and little else. Dana, being a cut above the
other nurses
might know a bit more.


Okay, I was rationalizing, I was down and I wanted a friendly,
pretty
face to talk to. And besides, hadn't Dana told me to
call?


So I pulled out my cell phone and tentatively dialed Dana's
number. She
answered on the second ring. "Hello, Dana? This is
George. George
Harvey. You know, you take care of my wife, and we've
talked a few
times?" I sounded like a 14 year old trying to ask a
girl in math
class out to the movies.


"Yes, George, I know who you are, " she laughed
into the phone. "And
we've talked more than a few times. I'd say it was
every night for the
last two weeks before I went on vacation. Besides, I recognize
your
voice, and I was hoping you'd call."


"You were?" I said before I could stop myself.



"Yes, remember, I gave you my number? How are you?"



"I'm okay. I mean I'm fine. I'm just
a little concerned about my wife.
And I've had a kind of busy work week, and I'm a little
down and... u
h ... I was ... uh ... wondering if you'd mind meeting
me out for
coffee or something?" I was always lousy at asking
a girl out.


"Well, George, I'd really rather not go out tonight,
I'm kind of settled
in for the evening--"


I cut her off. "Oh sure, I understand. I'm sorry
to have bothered
you."


"No, George, " she said. "What I mean
is rather than going out, why
don't you come over here? And instead of coffee, how
about something
more relaxing, like a drink. I make a good margarita."



Oh God, were there really people on this planet so kind and
understanding? I had never met one before, so naturally
I was
surprised. "Are you sure, Dana? I mean you're
on vacation and all."


"Yes, I am sure, George. Now let me give you directions."
And we
talked a few more minutes as she gave me directions to her
apartment,
and I asked her if there was anything I could bring, which
there was.
I could pick up a couple of sandwiches for our dinner, which
I was glad
to do, and a half hour later I was knocking on Dana's
door.


Dana had a small apartment on the top floor of a complex near
the
clinic. It had a nice view out the living room window if you
like
looking across the city at night watching the traffic flow
and keeping
track of the surrounding neighborhood. Just before we
sat on the couch
to consume our dinner, Dana closed the drapes and closed
out the rest
of the world. She had a pitcher of margaritas already on
the coffee
table and two full glasses. She took the bag of sandwiches
and chips
from me and asked me to sit while she put them on plates.


I did as told and looked around at the rest of what I could
see in her
humble abode. It was comfortably decorated with overstuffed
furniture
in soft browns and blues. She had some nice prints on the
wall. There
was a small dining room table and chairs on a raised level
two steps up
and an efficiency kitchen with a breakfast bar to divide
it from the
dining area. To the right, on the level I was on, there was
a hallway
leading to the bathroom and bedroom I supposed. It was a
very
comfortable looking place for a single woman. It suited
Dana perfectly
as she always seemed to be relaxed and comfortable.


As for her, Dana was dressed in sweats and flip flops and
had her hair
pulled back into a ponytail. She looked even more relaxed,
and I
supposed she was, being on vacation and in her own home.
Instantly, my
mood calmed, and I sank back into the couch while she brought
over our
dinner.


As soon as she set the plates on the low table, Dana lifted
her glass
and handed me mine and we made a toast. "To a relaxing
evening away
from the world, " she said as she clinked my glass
with hers.


I sipped my drink for the toast, and it tasted great. I started
to set
it down, but Dana stopped me. "Drink the first one
fast, and then sip
the second one slow, while you eat your sandwich. By the
time you're
finished, you'll be completely relaxed."


I did as she suggested and downed the drink in two more large
gulps and
then started on my sandwich as Dana refilled my glass. Dana
sipped and
ate along with me and plied me with questions about work
and what was
going on with me and my wife, and before I was through with
dinner and
my second margarita, all my problems were far behind me,
at least for
the night. By that time too, I had shed my suit coat and tie
and shoes
and we sat there working on the next margarita, both of us
with our
feet up on the table, leaning back with our heads resting
on the couch
and looking at the ceiling. Comfort, thy name is good food,
good
drink, and a pretty woman who knows them both as well as when
to talk
and when to listen. I hadn't felt this good in months.
No, make that
years.


Dana kept up our conversation, which by this time had moved
into our
childhoods, and times growing up, and old old memories
I hadn't thought
about in ages. I told her how my grandfather had a small farm
after he
retired and taught me to fish in the pond there. I told her
how my
grandmother used to bake fresh doughnuts and we'd
eat them still warm
and dripping with icing. Dana told me about her failed attempts
as a
ballerina when she was eight, and how she moved from dancing
to acting
by the fourth grade. Unfortunately, for the class production
of
Cinderella, she was cast as an ugly step-sister which ruined
her psyche
and set her back with boys until she was the first girl to
develop
breasts in the sixth grade.


We traded more old memories from high school and college
while Dana
cleaned up our dinner and turned down the lights and put
on some soft
music. Back on the couch, she sat facing me and told me about
her
fiancé, who two weeks before their wedding had been killed
in an
accident by a drunk driver. There were tears in her eyes
as she looked
back into time and thought how her life might have been so
different if
he had lived. I was the one who reached out and held her hand
this
time as it rested on the couch back. Dana looked at our fingers

intertwined, and thanked me, and then changed the subject
to nursing
school and told me some awful stories about mistakes she
and her
friends made as they fumbled their way into the world of
medicine.
Soon, both of us were laughing uproariously about a classmate
of hers
who once mistook a bald man for a woman who'd gone through
chemo
therapy and lost her hair. The nurse was quite surprised
when she had
the man up in stirrups for a pelvic exam and lifted his gown.
All the
mistaken nurse could say was, "He never said a word!
He just let me
move him around, and he never said a word!"


I had just recovered my senses from the hardest laugh I'd
had in who
knows how long when I caught a glimpse of a clock. I checked
my watch
to make sure I had read it right, and it really was five minutes
to
midnight. Where had the time gone? I was turning back into
a pumpkin,
and I hated leaving this fairy tale behind.


I stood up and stretched and thanked Dana for the nicest
evening I'd had
in a long long time and told her I had to go so I could get some
sleep
before work. Dana rose from the couch as well and walked
me toward the
door and said she was glad I had come over, and she enjoyed
the time
thoroughly too and hoped we could do it again sometime.
I wanted to
say, "Yes, tomorrow night would be great, please, "
but I didn't want to
be too forward.


I stood at the door holding my coat and tie over my arm, and
I put out
my hand to shake hers and thank her, but Dana kept her distance
and
looked down at my hand. "George Harvey!" she
barked. "You can't just
shake my hand and say good bye. After all the talking we've
done and
all the stories we've shared, we're good friends
now, and I won't
settle for anything less than a hug."


I felt a little rebuked and foolish, but she had said it with
her usual
bright smile so I laid my coat and tie on the chair next to
the door
and held open my arms. Dana moved to me and put her arms around
my
neck and stood on her toes and gave me a full body press. I
held her
as close as I could and squeezed her tightly while we turned
from side
to side holding each other as if our lives depended on it.
I felt her
warm breath on my cheek, and the softness of her breasts
on my chest.
Her hips moved a little back and forth across mine, and I
felt the
warmth of blood rushing down to my cock. Oh God, she felt
good.


Neither of us showed any signs of wanting to let go and the
hug went on
and on with nothing said. Our bodies were doing the talking
for us
now.


Gradually, when I couldn't hold her up any longer,
I lowered her back
down so her feet were flat on the floor, but still, I didn't
let go.
Dana finally broke the silence with a whisper in my ear.
"It feels so
good to be held like this. I can't remember the last
time I felt this
close to someone."


I pulled my head back and looked into her eyes. They were
clear and
blue-gray and looking intently at me, and I just closed
mine and moved
in and kissed her. It was a warm, full lipped kiss. Both of
us had
tilted our heads a bit to the right and opened our mouths
just enough
to allow a little wetness and we could feel the breath of
one another
and savored it. Again, her hips moved from side to side rubbing
her
pelvis across my semi inflated cock which then began rapidly
filling.
Dana moaned and tightened her arms even more around my neck
and began
rubbing her breasts against me too. With the way they moved,
I could
feel under her sweatshirt that she was braless. I moved
my hands down
and held her ass pulling her tight against my very full erection.

Dana's tongue invaded my mouth and began a wrestling
match with mine.
I moved my hands up inside the waistband of her sweats and
slid them
back down inside her panties, cupping her bare ass.


Suddenly, Dana broke the kiss and moved out of my arms. She
grabbed my
hand and pulled me behind her saying, "George, I need
you." As I
followed her to her bedroom, I might have laughed at the
irony, since I
was the one who came to her in need, but I wasn't thinking
about that
at the time. All I could do was look at the really nice ass
I had been
holding and hope that I would be holding it again soon.


We got to her bedroom and Dana lifted her sweat shirt up and
off, I
moved in to kiss her again and tried to rub her beautiful
globes and
tease her nipples, but Dana's busy hands were unbuttoning
my shirt and
I couldn't get as much access as I wanted. Instead,
I put my hands to
good use by putting them back inside her sweatpants and
panties and
started pushing them down. Dana wiggled her ass and scissored
her legs
to help me. When they were down to her ankles, I moved my hands
to my
own belt and buckle and undid my slacks and pushed them down
along with
my boxers. By this time, Dana was pulling my shirt off my
shoulders,
but couldn't reach far enough to finish the job because
her feet were
still tangled in her own clothes. We both then concentrated
on our own
clothing for the little bit that was left to do. While I was
taking
off my socks, Dana pulled down the covers. And then we stood
on
opposite sides of the bed, both naked and both looking at
one another.


Nether of us had said a word in all the time we spent undressing.
It
was as if we had talked ourselves out and there was nothing
to say. We
both knew what we wanted, and it wasn't going to take
any more words to
get it.


At the same time, each of us got on the bed and moved to the
center. We
met in the middle, kneeling up tall and looking each other
up and down.
Dana had dishwater blond hair top and bottom, her breasts
were
probably a 36B-C, she had a few extra pounds around the waist,
but
then, so did I. Dana looked down at my hard cock standing
at an upward
angle with a drop of pre-cum glistening in the hole. She
reached her
hand out and grabbed the shaft with her thumb up and used
her thumb to
spread the pre-cum all over the head. I moved my hands up
and cupped
her breasts, letting my own thumbs rub across her nipples.
Both of us
started breathing heavier and moaned a little as the sensations
ran
through our bodies. Finally, we looked at one another in
the eyes
again and moved together for a kiss.


I grabbed Dana's ass once more and began to pull her
close against me,
but before I did, she pushed my cock down and spread her legs
so that
my shaft was rubbing against her pussy lips. Now moving
in close and
rubbing her breasts on my chest, she began a back and forth
motion with
her hips, rubbing the top of my dick with her pussy. As our
kiss
deepened, I could feel her nether lips spreading and her
wet, inner
lips were now rubbing my cock.


This rubbing of my dick with her pussy while kneading each
other's ass
and trying to tickle each other's tonsils probably
went on for only
three or four minutes, but I could tell Dana was getting
really worked
up. Her breathing was getting much heavier, she was rubbing
her tits
up and down the hair on my chest trying to get as much friction
for her
nipples as she could, and she was opening her mouth wider
and wider.
Finally, she broke the kiss and said, "Rub my clit,
George! Rub my
clit!"


I moved one hand off her ass cheek and brought it around between
us.
Dana hadn't slowed her thrusts in the least, and on
her back-pull I got
my fingers in between us and found her clit peeking from
under its
hood. I didn't have to move my fingers, just apply pressure
while she
thrust back and forth. Dana responded with audible grunts
and shouts
of "Oh, yes! Oh, yeah, that's it, Oh Yes!"



Not able to kiss Dana any longer because of her shouts and
her moving
her head back and forth, I began kissing her neck as best
I could and
reached under her with the hand still on her ass and rubbed
that little
strip of skin right below her anus. It only took about three
strokes
and Dana was off on an orgasm that lasted a good long time.
She
grabbed the wrist of my hand between us and held it still
and pushed
firmly up against her clit. She squeezed her ass cheeks
tightly,
holding my other hand in place, and her pussy spasmed and
clasped and
pulsed all along my dick. Meanwhile she had her head thrown
back and
was doing almost a howl of pleasure. I had never heard or
seen a woman
so lost in the throes of orgasm and whose whole body seemed
totally
concentrated on the act.


I let her ride out her pleasure using my hands and cock as
she felt the
need to push here, pull there, and press everywhere. I felt
good that
I had been able to bring her off so well, and I enjoyed her
pleasure
almost as if it had been my own.


Finally, Dana ran out of energy and dropped her head forward
on my
shoulder and relaxed her grip on my wrist and released my
hands from
her clit and ass. She did however keep my dick firmly nestled
between
her pussy lips and still kept a gentle movement back and
forth. There
was a soft squishing sound from all the juices she had released
during
climax. I was sure some of it had dripped off my dick and onto
the
bed, but we were far from finished, and who cared about a
wet spot
until then.


When her breathing was back under control, Dana looked
up at me and
said, "I'm sorry if you feel like I just used you,
George. I needed
that so much. You have no idea how long it's been for
me."


Looking into her beautiful eyes, I smiled and said, "I
can't imagine you
not having six men lined up every night, Dana, You are truly
one of
the nicest and most caring people I have ever met. And I hope
I've
just repaid you for a little of all that kindness you've
shown me and
my wife over the last month or so."


The mention of my wife while Dana and I were still kneeling
there
holding each other naked brought a pall on our intimacy.
"Oh my God!"
I thought, "What have I done?"


Dana saw the look on my face and instantly knew what I was
thinking as I
dropped my head in shame. "George? George? Look at
me, George!"


I looked at her, but it was hard, and I think I probably had
tears in my
eyes.


"George, " she said sternly, "you didn't
do anything wrong. You came
here for a shoulder to lean on, and I listened to you. And
then I
needed you. You never came on to me, George. I came on to you,
and I
needed you, and you were there for me."


"Yes, that's true, I suppose. But, Dana, I have
been thinking about you
like this almost since I met you. Every night I went home
after
talking with you, and I would think, what if...."



"So?" she said. "That's normal.
You're a healthy man with healthy
urges and needs, and your wife hasn't been able to satisfy
those for
quite a while, has she?"


"No, " I said, "But that's not her
fault."


"Of course it's not her fault, " Dana replied.
"It's nobody's fault.
It's just what happened. And because it happened,
you and I met. And
I liked you just as much from the very beginning. I liked
your
devotion and your caring and your determination to see
this through
with your wife. I'd like to think that if my Jimmy had
lived, we'd
feel the same about each other and do what you're doing
if the need
came up. Maybe that's it for me, George. You remind
me of what I
wanted to have or thought I could have had and are the kind
of man I
thought Jimmy would be."


She kept looking in my eyes and I didn't know what to
say, it was all
jumbled in my head, but still it made a kind of sense.


Finally, Dana asked me, "George, are you going to
be okay?"


"Yeah, I'm fine, Dana. I'll be fine. I'll
just be glad when all this
is over."


Dana laughed which caught me a little off guard. "You
mean with your
wife, right?"


"Yes, " I said. "I mean with my wife."



"Good she said, "because I think you and I have
a little unfinished
business, " and she looked down between us where
my cock was still
between her legs and still being rubbed by her pussy. I followed
her
gaze and saw that in all the time we had been talking, my hardness

hadn't gone down.


Dana smiled at me as we looked up together. "Now, would
you like to be
on bottom or top?"


"I think I'd like to be on top, " I said,
and we moved so that Dana laid
down with her head on a pillow and I stayed between her legs.
I lifted
my hips just enough and Dana reached down between us and
guided the
head of my cock right into her sweet, wet hole. I eased my
hips down
slowly and felt that wonderful wonderful feeling of my
cock sliding all
the way in. Dana lifted her legs and spread them so I could
have
complete access and my balls rested on her ass. I pushed
my torso up
and we both looked down to see me fully embedded within her
pussy. I
pulled out slowly to watch as her lips caressed the sides
of my dick
and then watched again as I slowly eased back in.


"It feels good, doesn't it?" Dana asked
playfully.


"It sure does, " I said. And then I leaned down
to kiss her, and I laid
my self fully on her with my hands coming up under her shoulders.
Dana
wrapped her legs around my hips and squeezed my cock with
her inner
muscles. When she relaxed, I moved my hips up and took a long
stroke
out and in. both of us moaned into each other's mouth.
I took
another, and another and then our bodies took over, and
Dana and I made
love.


I won't say that I was in love with Dana, but I could have
been if the
situation was right. But I did love her for the kind of woman
she was
and for the kindness she was showing me in so many ways and
for being
such a giving and caring person. I also loved her body. It
was warm
and supple, and her pussy was perfect, wet and tight. And
her breasts
felt great as our bodies rubbed together. And I loved that
Dana was so
affectionate and not afraid to show when something pleased
her. She
grunted and groaned with each long stroke and whispered
how good it
felt to have my dick moving inside her. She said she loved
the feel of
my cock and the way my balls rubbed her ass as I bottomed out
on each
stroke. Her talk and guttural sounds of pleasure spurred
me on to
higher levels of passion. I began to stroke faster and faster.
She
separated her legs and lifted her hips as I plunged my cock
as deep
inside her as it would go. Dana rubbed my back and started
chanting,
"Fuck me, George, Fuck me, George. Fuck me, George!"



As her volume got louder, my strokes got faster, and I knew
Dana was
ready to cum again. So I pushed even harder and faster and
fucked her
as well as I possibly could. Then I was at my own climax, and
I
shouted to her, "I'm cumming, Dana! I'm
cumming!"


Dana gripped my body with her thighs and used her feet flat
on the bed
to lift her hips up as I delivered what felt like rivers of
pent up
sperm deep inside her womb. Dana didn't howl this time
but she did
give kind of a yell of release as if she had just delivered
a 15 pound
baby. She let down her hips while her hands clutched my back
and then
she locked her ankles around my ass as her pussy clenched
and she
squeezed every last drop of semen from my cock.


Finally, when we could talk again, Dana panted, "Oh
my God, that was
good, George. I don't know about you, but I feel completely
spent.
You are one hell of a lover, George, dear."


Such praise from a woman I had come to adore in such a short
time was
heady stuff. I thanked her and complimented her profusely
and told her
that it was her loving body that brought out the best in me.



"Yes, she said. I can feel the best of you running down
the crack of my
ass. And it feels so good. Thank you, George.


I lifted myself up from her and looked in her eyes. "No,
Dana. Thank
you for everything." And I kissed her. And she kissed
me. And we
held each other for another half hour before I finally summoned
the
courage to leave her. I so wanted to stay there and see her
wake in
the morning, but that was not going to be my life, nor hers.
We had a
moment in time that brought us together, and it would be
sacred for
both of us for the rest of our lives. But it couldn't
be our lives,
not unless something changed.


Things did change of course, as life is always change. But
the change
was that my wife eventually got better, and I brought her
home, and she
recovered fully over time. We resumed normal relations,
and I tried
not to think of Dana when I was making love with my wife. Of
course it
was inevitable, and I would get a far away look and my wife
would chide
me for letting my concentration drift, and we would go on.



I did see Dana almost daily after her vacation. And we shared
coffee
and conversation and news about this and that. She was still
a great
nurse and even greater friend, but I never saw her outside
of the
clinic again. I knew if I did, it would change not only the

relationship between her and me, but my wife and me as well.



From time to time I sit and wonder what if... And I wonder
what Dana is
doing with her days off and her evenings and vacations and
hoping
somehow we could meet again by chance, but it hasn't
happened. I miss
her, and I love her, and I still have her phone number in my
wallet
just in case things go very bad again.


Nurse Dana, I wonder how she is.

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Member Responses Post Your Comment

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Wow! Excellent. Well written. I envy your experience and
strength.

10/1/2006

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Great write up and story....so true to what happens.....
Thanks for sharing

10/1/2006

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Thats a full service nurse...

10/1/2006