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We had to keep her in a steamy bath to keep her skin together. Her mother finally got there and was panicky, crying, threatening to sue. I put my arms around her and said You can sue us, Mrs. ___. You can do that. But that will come later. Right now we have to save her life. She was crying, crying, could not stop. I showed her in to see her daughter before the surgery.

The large black nurse was scraping guacamole into the sink in the lounge when I realized how much she meant to me. I tried to explain that I had always known there was an angel in every operating room, standing in the corner, hoping for the best, blessing the room with her calm. She was that angel, and I tried to thank her, but ended up crying and crying, leaning into her large and solid shoulder.

We had been driving for hours. Bridges and overpasses loomed over us like metal and concrete gargoyles, warning us of the trials that lay ahead. Funny this doesn't look like the road to New York. The tires whispered loving messages of freedom of mobility. There was no purpose to our trip, we had transcended our human forms to become random packets in the data stream of our own consciousness. Final destination unknown, purpose irrelevant. My friend why oh why can I never remember her name? and I drove for what seemed like days. Slowly I dozed off as we drove into a bank of blue fog.

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