This is my twentieth journal entry and I'm still alive. I've passed three terminal deadlines. If I make it through Thanksgiving, I will have out-lived all my doctor's statistical prognoses of my ultimate demise. I am grateful to my family, friends, doctors and especially to the Lord for answered prayer. Maybe I'll live to write my 200^th column. Miracles happen.

Among my personal friends are a number of registered nurses. I never wanted to be a nurse. I'd be more of a liability than help. Because of my weak stomach, I won't even look at chitterlings in the grocery store.

You'd have to develop a great sense of humor to be a nurse. Given the opportunity, I could make the life of a nurse more interesting if not tolerable.

For starters, I can think of several good acronyms nurses could write on charts:

FORD - Found on the road drunk

SGP - Shallow gene pool

TMB - Too many birthdays

If I had an anxious patient, I could ease them by saying, "I know just how you feel. It's my first IV too."

On a dull night in ER, I would pretend to sneeze and simultaneously throw KY jelly on the doctor's sleeve.

If I really had an obnoxious patient, I would tell them my name was that of my co-worker and to HOLLER LOUD if they needed help.

Medicine is serious business and I doubt anybody would want me as a nurse even if I could pass the state exams. Nurses make great friends and I am glad they get at least one perk. Who else gets to drive to work in green pajamas?