From Nurse Sinclaire

I am Nurse Sinclaire and I work at the Brotman Medical Center on Venice Blvd. in West Los Angeles.

One of the patients under my care is Victor Rorg, who currently is awaiting a spleen transplant, after his original spleen was punctured by a small knife more than a week ago.

Although Mr. Rorg is a Managed Care Specialist with Complete Wrap Health Insurance, he is unable to obtain coverage for a new spleen.

In my opinion, the sucker is better off dead. He slaps my ass whenever I adjust his catheter. He fondles my breasts when I turn him over on his side, he whispers "I love you- have my baby" into my ear when I sponge bathe him, and he has masturbated twice while student doctors accompanied his primary care physician during examinations.

He told me today, he has "ways of getting the money for a spleen." I told him spleens cost upwards of $80,000. He told me he knew where he could get hold of a "black market spleen" through a friend of his at his health insurance company. He said he would have it fedexed to his room in three days and would I "french kiss him while Wheel of Fortune was on."

I told him it better be a baboon spleen cuz I don't want no part of no Chinese dissident body organs. And then I told him no matter what spleen he got I would leave it out in the alley for the cats to fight over.

He passed out at that point, but when he woke up I told him I was kidding. He told me he hadn't really passed out, and that he was watching me through the tiny slits in between his closed eyelids.

I poured ice cubes over him from the water pitcher, and submitted my resignation. I hate this place.

Ex-Nurse Sinclaire.