Best for Last

I saved the best for last today. At my 86th hour of work this week, I walked into Ms Js room, flopped down in a chair by her bed, and just listened...

I expected to coast through today. But then I had a ridiculous number of admission overnight, and realized that my plan for finishing work by noon, or even two was fucked, and I was pissed. Couldn't even fake a smile, so I saw intoxicated and demented patients first. They wouldn't know I was in a foul mood, or, at the very least, wouldn't remember.

A few hours later I peeked in on Ms J. "I'll be by in a few hours, just wanted to make sure you were doing ok." I had already looked at her labs, talked to the night nurse when I got to work and knew that she was doing well, but I knew she would expect to see me in the morning. I hoped I had been able to pull off a half-decent fake smile for her...

I went about the day. And then settled myself in Ms. Js room. For a hour I just listened. This woman is amazing. Hearing her stories, listening to her talk about raising her children; I sit there and look at her and get caught up in her life. I believe her. She isn't going to die. But then I am snapped back to reality, and I know that best case is she makes it til Thanksgiving-Christmas would be a miracle. Does she really know that. Just when I think she doesn't she says something like, "when I'm gone.." or how easily and comfortable she uses the C work. I am drawn to this woman and her family, and I don't know entirely why. Or maybe I do...

It has been a long week. I think it has been rewarding. I think I have probably learned a fair bit. But I am spiteful of the long hours I have had to work. Tomorrow is my day off. And then I work 8 days in a row... what the hell?