hangin in, hangin on, hangin out

with my change of location comes the need for new introductions.

i have a special friend at the hospital - captain corrado.  he's down to earth, as sweet as triple fudge chocolate cake, a gentleman from the word 'go'.

my first day back, he walked into the office and said - oh no you don't, come here!  he put his arms around me and gave me the biggest hug and said - and i don't care WHO sees.  kind of like the day he took my ID picture - i had gone with another lady to get the deed done and he told her, could you turn away a minute?  i have to hug this woman.  she's an old flame, you know.

we hit the smoking area together.  i could always tell when he was having a bad day.  when i asked how he was doing, he'd say all in one breath - hangin in, hangin on, hangin out.  doin the best i can with what i've got.  don't sweat the small stuff and it's all small stuff. 

it's like a mantra for him.

i remember the first time i ever saw him.  he was sitting at the counter of the restaurant where i worked and i thought to myself - ho-ly COW.  and that's unusual for me.  men don't catch my eye like that. even now, 20 some years later, he's a good looking fella.  dark hair and eyes to match his italian name.  sorry ladies, i can't help it - he's just that good looking.

he told me a story once, about hunting. it was late at night, they were running the dogs and he wanted to be one of the guys which meant - he had to chew tobacco.  so he did.  he popped a great big plug into his mouth, went running in behind the dogs, hit a tree limb and swallowed the tobacco.

i was the sickest i've ever been for an entire week, and i haven't tried to chew tobacco since.

the most striking thing about the captain isn't his looks.  it's how he treats everyone with respect.  i was walking through the gate one morning and an inmate was standing there with his shirt tail out.  the captain approached him and said, sir, you need to tuck your shirt in. and he complied willingly and without grumbling under his breath or cursing aloud.

not all officers are like that.  most officers aren't like that, in fact.  it's barking orders, but when captain does it, he gets results without having to raise his voice.

the stress of being a white shirt is getting to him, though.  at the smoking area last week, he told me of all the paperwork, the overtime, of not getting lunch breaks and of dealing with the higher ups. 

six more months.  if i can hang on six more months, i can get the hell out of here.

man.  six more months, and the hospital will be a different place altogether.  in my eyes, he's the heart of the place, in more ways than one.