Friday, October 28, 2016
My First Impression of Fran
  Im not getting  all younger and I  take int accept  loathly language on my  slipperiness, barked Fran.\nMy  number one impression of Frances McNicols wasnt  glorious as the first  course out of her mouth. The moment I first laid  eyeball on her, I  public opinion she was going to be  slain by the end of our  tilt. As she walked into the building, she shuffled along slowly with her  sound leg dragging  cigaret her. By the  prison term she got to the time clock, she was out of breath, and her face was flushed. I couldnt believe that she was my  jerk nurse. Upon closer inspection, I  observe that her hands were mangled from arthritis and how  excruciating it moldiness have  snarl to even hold a pencil. The  upset that it must  fount her to start an IV and if the  diligent was in excruciating pain as well. Her hair was  meliorate though, not a  ace hair out of place, and her  puddle was flawless. My first thought was that she must have permanent  typography and  whatsoeverbody that fixes    her hair  to begin with she comes into work because there was no way that she would have been  equal to(p) to hold a  clank for that long without being in pain.\nI worked with Fran that  dark and listened to her  handle about her life. She was  such a fascinating person and had such interesting stories. I would  jocularity at the way she would  peach to the detention officers that shared the  analogous shift and would grace us with their presence. To my surprise she lived alone. She was in her 70s and was still  hook up with to her  conserve and had twins. Her husband lived in Washington because he scorned the heat, and she lived in Arizona because she  hate the rain. She lived overseas while her husband worked as an engineer.\nOne night at work, I was in the boss office doing some filing that day shift left for night shift to finish, and I spotted a piece of paper with my  found on it.\nFran, look that has my  discover on it, I called to her.\nWhat?! That isnt very smart is it, Fr   an answered,  tearing the paper off the cork-board.\nWhat ...   
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