Acronyms are a strange part of health care; most health care professionals use them in shift reports or as code in front of lay people. Acronyms are also part of a cryptic language for the various fields of medicine, and these cryptic languages tend to spill over into our everyday lives.
I share my home with three dogs, and two of those dogs enjoy killing any and all small creatures that dare to venture into the fenced yard. Over the years, I have found numerous rabbit parts, dead birds, and most recently a dead kitten. I have rescued one rabbit and two kittens from the clutches of my carnivorous hounds. One of the spared kittens now lives in my bedroom, tucked away hidden from the hounds. I think this kitten owes me some gratitude, some respect damn it. Do I get it? Heck no! I love him, play with him, feed him, clean his poop from the litter box, make sure he has plenty of litter to kick out of the box for me to sweep up; what thanks do I get? Currently, as I type, he is viciously biting my ankles--correction--toes!! Yesterday, while I was readying myself for work, he decides to attach himself to my thigh. I would like to add that I was wearing shorts!!!! That damn cat drew blood, and not just a drop or two. I have wounds on my anterior thigh and shin from his assault. Obscenities flew from my mouth as I swung to remove him from my thigh..."*ucking crazy cat," I yelled, as I swatted and watched him sail comfortably onto a pile of dirty laundry.
I have been having trouble finding a name for him. Jinx, Kitty (how original), Lil' F'er, and now FCC. For now, I will stick with FCC, until his next assault and my new attempt at cleaning up blurted obscenities.
