When I went into acute respiratory failure, I had it pretty darn good. I had a large room all to myself and a group of nurses (mostly) from eastern europe. They were all very friendly, and one in particular could have made a fortune if she'd made the decision to become a stripper instead of a nurse. I cannot say I objected to her fondling my pecker while she inserted a catheter and nonchalantly talked to me about how her father has developed a fear of getting one-- but he has no actual medical need... Personally, I think the idea of a catheter is more awful than the actual insertion.
There was one non-hottie who was a male nurse that actually looked very much like Mr. Clean. He seemed to get me when I was at my worst. He's be more of a niche draw as a stripper, I guess...
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