Never clock out

I had to work this morning. . . .yep, on a Sunday. Not exactly my first choice of things to do on a Sunday. . . .my preference is to go to church with Harry and the kids. Yeah, I was a little groggy when I first woke up, but a wonderful early morning snuggle session with Zachary on the sunroom couch was just the pick-me-up I needed before heading in to tackle the day at a "sho 'nuff "county hospital. Something about the innocence of 2 year old conversation--butterflies, Blues Clues, and big-boy underwear--lets me know that everything is alright with the universe. :)

Good morning, Grady!
(Here is a picture of Grady that I took right before walking in this morning.)


Some parts of morning rounds were rough. One person tearfully told me that no one in her whole life has ever loved her, and that she feels like a worthless mistake every single day. Someone else sat across from me as I discussed end-of-life issues regarding her dying loved one. One guy was stressed out because someone kicked the door in at his house while he lay in the hospital trying to get well. For him, a life or death situation in the hospital has become a life or death situation outside of the hospital, too. Another young woman took down my personal cell phone number so that she could talk to me more about a critically ill parent under my care. She asked me for the "best way to reach me" and sounded really upset. I wanted to tell her to have me paged. . .but the real answer was that the best way to reach me is my cell phone. . . .maybe I'll regret it, but right now, it seemed like the right thing to do. And lastly, I consoled my resident who was on the brink of tears all morning; not because she is a crybaby, but because she is an empathic young doctor who is now grasping the magnitude of what we do every day. It's an awesome responsibility.

This ain't a job for the faint of heart. These are human beings we are caring for, hoping for, and fighting for. We clock in but, in our hearts, the best doctors can't clock out no matter how hard they try. We are haunted by our patients and their stories, we hunger to learn more to understand their problems, and then we strive to do just a little bit better each time.

Now that it's all said and done, I guess I'm not so bummed about missing worship service today. Sometimes going into Grady on a Sunday kind of feels like going to church. Afterall, working at Grady is a ministry in itself. . . . .and something about squeezing my own loved one tight this morning made me want to try just that much harder so that my patients can do the same. (Zachary and me during our snugglefest this morning)