Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Sometimes

Sometimes as you're walking out of a patient's room, she casually mentions her son died at this very hospital of cancer at the age of 35.

Sometimes you walk in to interview a new patient you're admitting to your floor and find out she's about your age, having moved to DC from her small town after college like you did, working a job like you used to have, and living with a group of people she met on craigslist....just like you did. And it feels a little too real.

Sometimes your job is to clean the wound on a guy's back and back sure the bandage is pressed as firmly down between his buttocks as possible.

Sometimes you cheer victories like a patient's first bowel movement in 10 days.

Sometimes you find yourself sitting at a patient's bed, hearing them spin tales of their younger years, and being completely and totally entranced. And completely and totally enjoying yourself.

Sometimes a patient yells at you and says you don't care about her and want her to die.

Sometimes a patient tells you he thinks this is the best hospital in the entire world. And that he thinks you saved his life.

Sometimes you're reminded you have the greatest job in the world. 

No comments:

Post a Comment