Nurse come in all sizes, shapes, colors and ages.
Efficiently cheerful, they will rustle past you many times a day.
When Hercules cleaned the Augean Stables, he set a standard which the Nurse surpasses each day.
Buoyed by an immense sympathy for mankind and undismayed by experiences with particular members of that, at times, cantankerous race, they perform miracles of devotion with effortless cheer.
When you rub your Alladin's Lamp (or sound your buzzer) your little Genie appears. Perhaps they have been summoned needlessly a dozen times already. But they are cheerfully ready to soothe you, to help you down your medicine, to smooth down your bed, to answer your fears.
The Nurse is the Doctor's guard against forgetfulness, his questioning conscience, at times his challenge, and at all times his skilled right arm.
Their charming cap (well, use to be anyway) perches undisturbed through the roughest day. They have no self for themselves. Their all is for their patients. If they are short with one patient, it is because they are pressing to return to the one whose need is greater.
The Big Show (life itself) must go on. This is the Nurse's creed, their battle, their drive. They will fight to the end with every trick, every knowledge, ever passion.
At the end of the day, the Nurse returns home, physically weary, but with their inner light glowing brightly, for they have richly earned the peace within themselves.
If you must get sick, you are mighty lucky to have a Nurse happen to you.