The Badge

I had an administrator eyeball me in the elevator today. Then, suddenly from nowhere, he told me I should not wear a Bobcat badge on the lapel of my labcoat. I suppose he thought he was the war ignorant General who dressed down Joker in Full Metal Jacket for his peace sign and the "Born To Kill" inscription on his helmet.

Here's the deal. I ain't Joker, and this ain't the damned military. I did my time, I'm proud of my military service, and now, I'll tack whatever I damned well please on my lapel. The hospital I work at has nothing to say about it as long as it's tasteful. If the pencil pushing prick had nicely inquired, he might have learned that that pin was given to me in 1995 by an eight year old boy who almost lost his leg in a hunting accident involving a shotgun. Jeremy suffered a wound in his thigh that required multiple skin grafts and painful debridement over a period of eight months. He had injured his leg crossing a fence during dove season. I saved his leg against terrible odds. He managed to complete his dream of going deer hunting with his father. When I say I fought terrible odds to heal his wound and save his leg, it was because he was undergoing chemotherapy at the time. He died the following year.

Jeremy gave me his Bobcat badge to remember him by. He felt it was one of his most significant achievements. I disagree. One of his most significant achievements was to give me that badge as a reminder of why I do this job, as a bit of solace when everything falls apart around me, as recognition that I did make a difference for someone, and I can again, each day if I so chose.

So yeah Mr. Administrator.........I'm going to wear may Bobcat badge. It's not going anywhere. In a time when highly trained nurses are hard to come by, you do what you feel you must. I can secure another job with a simple phone call. You ain't taking this badge.