I recently experienced the worst abuse that I have ever endured in 27 years as a nurse. I was called every name that this particular person could manage to think of. I was threatened with death, and I was kicked and spat on. All that I was doing was the best I could to help. I’m a hardy old fella who can really take a hit, but that day wore me OUT!!! Then one of my co-workers, a black man who suffers racist abuse at least a couple of times a week, pulled me into a room and made sure I was doing OK. My fellow nurse defended me to this person who was spewing their verbal abuse loud enough for everyone to hear. My other co-workers walked out with me at the end of the day, and encouraged me. They all “get” it, because it happens to them too. Then I got home, and our little dog greeted me as i walked in the door with his tail wagging. Then I went upstairs, and the perpetually sweet Mrs. Fat Man was cooking dinner, smiled at me, gave me a kiss, and asked how my day was. When I told her, she had genuine sympathy and concern for me. And the daughters Fat Man who all work in health care, the two youngest in the emergency medical field with me, felt genuinely bad for the Old Fat Man. The assault on my appearance and character was blunted by the gentle souls who have been placed around me. In this ol’ life of mine God has given me some tender mercies…thank you God for your tender mercies.