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Thursday, June 22, 2006

Long Days and Little Tragedies (part I)

After three consecutive eighteen hour days, smeared with little tragedies, I’m exhausted and thinking extensively of my own mortality. Every day I wake with great expectation for the world ahead of me. What will the day hold? How will I grow? What can I do to leave my mark? How can I make this day count? Never do I consider the possibility that this day, or even this moment, could be my last. It’s almost cliché to utter the words, “live like you were dying.” (Unless of course, you’re Tim McGraw). I digress. Anyway, the truth is, people are dying all around me. Left and right. They’re here and the suddenly, they’re not. I’m sure my friend’s grandmother, or Brad’s sister, or the patient I’ve been caring for, didn’t wake up and think twice about the moments they had left. It’s tragic. Even here, in this little “city of hope,” death slowly moves in, devouring any who submit to hopelessness and some who don’t. In the past week this hospital has had two small fires, a man who shot his wife before killing himself, a good man die of a wretched disease, and right now I am watching a beautiful mother of two, because the very thing that cured her of cancer, may have fried her brain. It’s tragic. It’s tragic and I have questions to which there are no answers.


Blogger aunt kim said...

I too am very scared of losing a loved one let alone passing myself and the impact (or lack thereof) of it. Most of us are taught at a very young age that life as we know it must end. But not to be scared because we will all be together again. If we can just continue to remind ourselves of that it might make the reality of life a little easier to take. I think for you working with the terminally ill or chronically ill puts you in a different state of mind. Its a constant reminder of what eventually happens. Just try to stay optimistic and encourage others to do the same. You are definitely not alone!

10:53 AM  

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