Your boyfriend is hot.

You heard me. I think he's a major hottie, and I'm going to move in on that action.

That's why I keep coming in every four hours to check his "vital signs." Believe me, on the old fat guys and the women I never even bother to get a blood pressure. If you can't tell by the way I monitor and record his heartrate, pulseox, temp and bp, maybe you can tell by the way I squeeze his drains. Every shift, whether they need it or not. And have you noticed that when he asks for pain meds, I get them for him within a reasonable amount of time for any pain >4/10? You don't even want to think about what I'd do to him if he arrested, or exsanguinated, or dehisced.

Yeah, honey, you should feel threatened. In fact, would you believe that every nurse on this floor would do the exact same thing? That's right, even the men. We sit around all day asking ourselves how we can provide patients the best care possible. Brash, huh?

So I can see why you have to stay in the bed with him. I can see why you have to engage in baby talk and softcore displays of affection every time the nurses walk by. I can see why you have to "test" me to make sure I'm not forgetting anything, but only in front of him. If you weren't there watching him like a hawk every waking moment, I'm sure we'd snatch him and his massively infected, stinking, well-Kerlixed wound right up, wouldn't we?

Well, if not him, at least the MRSA.