First of all, she has hair that fits perfectly under that little white pancake hat. She stands up when the doctor arrives, hands him the chart, smiles and recites the lab work perfectly: Sodium 145, Potassium 3.2 . While the doctor strips back the patient's sheet and pokes him in the belly, the nurse pours fresh water into the patient's bedside glass and throws away the bloodied gauze. Then she walks with the doctor out to the desk, waits with her pen poised. The doctor notices her breasts, intriguing under the white, stainless shield of her uniform. She notices him noticing and stands straighter, hip at an angle. He imagines her following him to the ends of the earth dressed in a Victoria's Secret white teddy and thigh high hose. She imagines him throwing her down on a patient's bed, how she'll open her legs for him. He speaks, giving his orders, and she writes down every word: Run the IV at 100 cc per hour. Give Ampicillin 500 mgm STAT . This nurse, this pisher who also happens to be the nurse every patient wants, leaning on their call bells for her attention, thinks she has the answer to pain, incontinence, bleeding, and death. This is her — young! This is her — luscious and mute! This is her — brilliant! Kill her! Kill her! That's all you can do.