heart ache

today is the first of four days off. i slept in until 7:45 - even though my body naturally awoke at 5:45 (the brutal time i slip out of bed to prepare for my 12.5 hour day). and i've already started laundry, made a foot long to-do list, and am at my coffee shop sipping on a triple shot sugar free vanilla latte (they accidentally made me my drink with an extra shot - eek!). it feels grand.

work has been hard for me lately. i could blame the mistake(s) i've made. say that my confidence is shaken. my spirits are down. and perhaps that's part of it. but i also just want to say - my job is HARD. even the easy days - they're HARD.

this week, i cared for a 29 year old man/boy. in april he noticed a lesion on his tongue. he thought it was a canker sore and waited for it to go away. then he went to the dentist, and they were worried about it. but he waited for it to go away. and it never did. now, i don't know all of the details. but it wasn't until september that he was actually diagnosed - with stage IV tongue and neck cancer. and although further testing and more scans were ordered, still... he waited for it to go away.

today, the man/boy (who is really a scared and angry kid coping poorly in an adult body) will get a tube placed in his abdomen in order to feed himself. he can no longer swallow. he can't even open his mouth wide enough to brush his teeth. his tumor is the size of a softball and it has erupted through his cheek and jaw. he is hugely disfigured. and the tumor, once hiding under his skin, has stretched and pulled and finally broke through - leaving a bleeding, oozing mess. it's AWFUL. he won't talk - not just because it's hard and painful, but because he's mad. he is 29. when i was talking to our 60+ year old crass secretary about my patient he said this - "he's a kid. he should be out getting laid. and instead, he's stuck in the fucking hospital with attractive women taking care of him. he's pissed. and dying." it's true. he won't make it. his cancer is too advanced. it's inoperable.

and you know what? seeing ALL of this sadness weighs on my soul. i'm a fit, strong woman. i'm muscular and can run and squat and climb. i can carry lots of weight. lots of burden. (and for this, i am thankful. i don't take my health for granted. not after seeing so many people without it). but eventually, after seven plus years of this... after seeing more dead bodies than i can count. after hearing so many heartbreaking stories and comforting too many distraught patients and loved ones... your legs weaken. your shoulders hurt and hunch over. your muscles quiver. and your heart aches.