One day, Ann Carol asked me if I remembered the moment I fell in love with Clint. I fell in love with him before I ever saw his face. He was walking across the cardiac unit toward Room 4. Coming out of the nurses' lounge, I looked up and was dumbstruck at his gait, not quite a swagger, not what anyone could call a saunter, his incredibly self assured posture with no hint of haughtiness. His long legs moved gracefully, crossing the room in only a few steps. It was, quite simply, The Walk. He had the cutest little ass I had ever seen, and when I saw him face-to-face, my knees almost buckled. He was tall - 6'4" - and had the biggest hands I had ever seen and he wasn't wearing a wedding ring. His brown hairline was receding and I found it sexy and wanted to touch it. He looked up from the patient through black horn rimmed glasses, read my name off my name tag out loud and asked if I would take some orders for his patient. He exuded a sexiness of which he seemed completely unaware, a flirty glint in his eye, a half smile tipping up the corner of the right corner of his mouth. There was a spark of sexual energy between us, invisible for sure, but there all the same. I was frightened and turned on and excited at the same time, secretly hoping he would be there the next day. The next day came, and his patient had been transferred out. It would be months before I saw him again, but without even knowing it, I had already fallen in love. When I ran into Diane, she looked at me and said, "No man in the world ever had that walk like Dr. Schlottman. He was tall and handsome and full of himself, and that walk made him so sexy. I saw you together many times, and I never saw a man look at a woman the way he looked at you. You have been loved deeply, and I know how you must miss him. I can't even imagine him being sick, and I'm glad I never had to see him that way."