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Most of the time
Wednesday, Oct. 01, 2003, 1:32 p.m.
Most of the time, I enjoy working in the hospital. I even enjoy working in complaints because I can help people, and I can make a difference. Most of the time, it's a nice place to be. There's a certain security in knowing that, should I randomly keel over, I'll be taken care of immediately and well. Most of the time...
Other times, like today, I walk around a corner to see a 20-something man, sobbing quietly into a ragged Kleenex, eyes swollen and nose red, and it's not so nice. It makes me think of Joseph, and that terrible day in the hospital when he died. It makes my heart break because someone else is going through that, or something like that. And... and... the memories are just hard to shake.