Bridget has a hard un-life, but we don't hear her complaining much. Fittingly, she was a nun tending to the sick when Gladys infected her in the early 1900s—nuns aren't really known for their bellyaching. Here's how Nina describes her: "Bridget's always knitting. She was eighty-two when she was infected, so she can't do much else. Even climbing stairs can be a problem for Bridget because of her hip joints" (1.48). Okay, much as it must stink to be stuck looking like you're fifteen forever (like Nina), being stuck in an old body seems way worse.
While Bridget may seem kind of useless, though, her frail appearance actually helps sometimes. When nobody knows what to do with an unconscious Nefley, Sanford sets Bridget to watch over him, since "even the most confused and hysterical person was bound to be calmed by the sight of Bridget placidly knitting away in a bedside rocking chair" (17.46). Everyone loves waking up to their grandma, after all.
She really seems like a kind person, too. When Nina, Dave, and Father Ramon jaunt off on their road trip, she gives them each a wool scarf, saying, "Just in case you get cold on your trip" (7.37). Aw, how sweet. And when the group talks about rescuing Reuben, Bridget's on Nina's side, saying: "It would be wrong to abandon someone who's being treated like that, no matter who they are" (19.21). Spoken like a true nun, right?
On top of that, Bridget has some major self-control. When she's blooded for the first time after her transformation, she resists the temptation to chow down on some tasty human. Sanford hypothesizes that she "was able to control herself owing to a very strong religious faith; she was accustomed to fighting what she called 'the devil's snare'" (8.61). The force, as they say, is strong in this nun.