Thank You, Sir

It's been really tough these past few weeks. It's like everything's monotonous. Incomplete. Like everything you've been doing, or doing, seems to be pointless. That feeling of helplessness still hovering. That feeling of loss. Constant wondering. What ifs. What I hope to happen. What I have to get myself ready for. The sad part is, I have to admit, this may go on for quite a period...

I need a bit of a spark, a break from the sad reality I'm in, a reminder that I still have to do my thing.

"Fudge. What's the code to the break room again? I haven't been to work in forever (two weeks)...hmm...[toot toot toot toot toot...toooooooot]...oh okay. Cool."

I hung my jacket, grabbed my trauma scissors, pen, and some antibiotic ointment packets. Checked my assignment, and rushed to ER2.

"Holy crap...I've only been here for thirty minutes and It's been like forever."

Then it felt weird being there. Until I gradually picked up on my work efficiency and started rolling. Then it felt okay. I was in my turf. I was in a place that will guarantee my financial security for the next two weeks and the bills that I have yet to pay right now.

"Oh Reinier can you do a long-arm splint on bed 21?"

"I'm on it!"

Then I started joking with the kind sir whose arm I was going to subject to torment. I told him and his daughter that I was gonna cut his arm and replace it with a robocop prototype arm. We laughed. I then worked on the splint. After the torture and the laughter, I was out of the room and I called the transporter to take the gentleman to radiology.

Wow. It felt great. Somewhat an oasis in the middle of the desert. I felt that the patient was subtly telling me not to slip because there are a lot of people like him waiting for me.

Although it's still a tough road ahead of me- endless work to do, nauseating concepts to learn, difficult personal issues to endure, confusing emotions to tackle- I have to power through.

My patient told me so. Thank you, kind sir.