Annual Nurse Karen salute

This is my favorite time of year in terms of column writing because I get to save a few bucks while giving someone a birthday gift.

If you recall, it has become an annual tradition for a rave (yes, you read that right), to be placed here in honor of a beloved friend.

Not only does it fill this space but it also serves as her actual, literal, real, total and probably ONLY birthday present. I'm not saying that other folks don't shower her with gifts. What I mean is that I recognize her in this manner, rather than presenting her with socks and undies. (The undergarment saga will be explained later. I'm certain that you are all thrilled to the marrow.)

Last year I was terribly lazy and basically filled page three with a large photo and a small blurb. I will not be taking that course of action this time. I will simply bloviate about some of this chick's finer qualities until you have to schedule an appointment with Dr. Allison, due to the sweetness of it all. (Dr. A is a dentist with an excellent chair side manner. His ad can be found in this very paper. Bet you didn't see that one coming.)

I realize that not everyone knows this woman personally and might find my blather to be more coma inducing than usual. Sorry but I have to give her something for her birthday.

I suppose I should name the person in question. It is none other than Best Friend Nurse or Nurse Best Friend or something along those lines. I have forgotten her column nickname.

At any rate, in real life she goes by Karen Morrison Dygert. I shall refer to her as Karen Morrison, or KM, because I'm old-fashioned.

KM is turning 51 on January 21. I'm thinking I might be chastised by our dear sweet birthday gal for imparting those details.

Karen is the Hospice nurse of whom I speak from time to time. Speaking of her job, I have such respect for her because it isn't a very uplifting career, in my not-so-humble view. I commend her and ALL members of that organization. I know I've stated that in previous birthday salute columns but I'm nothing if not redundant.

In terms of the socks and underwear scenario, she used to ask me to get her “motherly” things for holidays/birthdays because she lost her mom when she was in her late teens. Evidently, nobody really bought her said items after that. Every year I'd peruse this or that store aisle in search of those special needs, as only a surrogate mother could. (Good gravy, can you imagine me as her surrogate mother? That would be a disaster, as Trump would say, waiting to happen.)

I am now going to casually, whilst whistling, segue into a story about how KM is absolutely selfless and has been for many a year. That does NOT say “selfish,” it says “selfless.” Pay attention please.

We were both cheerleaders during our prison term—I mean high school days. This might come as a total surprise but I was one of the heftier members of the squad. Therefore, I was always in charge of holding one of those skinny cute chicks upon my back. I speak of when we did human pyramids at live events or for picture taking purposes. I was the low woman on the totem pole, for lack of a better description. (I'm so very slim and stunning these days so I know it's impossible to fathom. Just concentrate real hard. There you go.)

I mentioned to her in passing, since I NEVER have been much of a complainer, that I was rather bummed about having the honor (?) of balancing the troops. This would have been for the rah-rah-gang's yearbook photo in our senior year. The woman took total pity on me, as was her nature during our entire youth, and volunteered to switch places.

She was supposed to perform a split in front of the Aqua Net gang but instead opted for the infamous horse and rider pose. I thought that was beyond the call of duty, quite frankly. Young girls are always self conscience about weight and she really made me feel special. Oh dear, I'm getting super sentimental. Stop me. Hold me. Anyway, we need more behavior like that today, if you ask me.

Another cheering “fiasco” took place when one of the girls evidently suffered humiliation beyond recognition. The reason is so very scandalous and I'm not sure if I should print it in a family paper. Gather 'round and I will tell you what unfolded. I hope you can handle this and I pray that it does not lead to massive collective pearl clutching. Here goes: The young lady was selected to be the mascot. I realize that this big reveal is shocking and lurid but I assure you, it is true. Can you even BELIEVE it?

Snapping out of sarcasm for a brief moment, you would have thought that the poor, delicate creature was asked to address her class in her birthday suit. She carried on so. It was really a sight to behold. She wailed and said, “I don't wanna be mascot!! PLEASE don't make me!” I am NOT joking, for once. This is non fiction.

Moving along, KM's mother, Sandy Morrison, happened to be our adviser. After enduring a non-stop river of tears; with begging, rending of clothing and putting on sackcloth thrown in for good measure, KM spoke up and saved the day. She told her mother that she would be the *&%$#@ mascot. (She didn't really swear but I thought it added more to the already bizarre story.)

She swooped in to save Miss Anti Mascot from being humiliated for life. What a cross to bear that would have been. Can you imagine the shame of it all? It would rank right up there with being branded like Cain, of Biblical fame. (I made a rhyme.) Perish the thought. I'm sorry but I just cannot get that memory out of my head, much to Miss Anti-Mascot's chagrin, I'm sure. I'm flabbergasted that a person would suffer a severe melt down due to being named the *&%$# mascot. Clearly, I'm having issues with this and digressing at the same time.

The bottom line is that KM has always been a giver and a carer. Is that a word? She is definitely in the right line of work, which goes without saying.

I'm almost out of space and brain cells at this time. Again, I ask that you cease with those huge sighs of relief as they are causing the kittens to become airborne.

In closing I will say that KM is the best friend a woman could request. She's honest, kind, compassionate, hilarious, beautiful and is an asset to the community. (Note: I put an E and a T at the end of that word.)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY Karen Sue Morrison Dygert. Please forgive me for the underwear story.

THE END.