Week Twenty-four

432 16 2
                                    

The sky is crying. Thunder is rolling, lightning is flashing. God is broken-hearted by the evilness that is tearing this country apart. I was blessed to not hear about the school shooting in Connecticut until after I was off work this evening. Then, it did not seem very real to me until I looked up the story online. Today, I grumbled because it seemed nothing would go right for me.

My middle child was sick, and I was thankful his grandma could watch him. I had to go to the dentist, and I was bothered that the hygienist kept pinching my lip when she rested her hand on it. Then I was irritated that I could not get ahold of my nurse, who had asked me to do her a favor on my way into the office. Of course she called just as I pulled into the parking lot. It was too late to turn around. Top that with the patient I had hurried to get to the office for did not show up, so I got to spend a few minutes with a darling baby boy with pink eye. I was frustrated because I felt the illness was viral and my attending argued that it was bacterial...of course I gave in. I wouldn't want to hurt a baby by being wrong. I was pissed because my stupid work computer we're supposed to use kept freezing and not working for me, and I had left my trusty Mac in the car.

After the nice retirement luncheon for one of the other nurses I work with, I got a phone call from my mother. She told me my 85 year old grandmother had T-cell leukemia, but the doctor did not have all the details. She wanted me to tell her all this information that I do not know. I quit listening when I heard my grandma had leukemia. Thank God I made a last minute trip to see her two weeks ago. I hope it isn't my last one, but it was a good visit. My bad news continued with my husband having to work late, then my middle son called to tell me that he was feeling better. Of course I was still busy at work, so I was brusque with him and asked if he needed anything. He wanted to let me know since he was feeling better, I should go Christmas shopping, as there is only 11 days left until Christmas. Really?

Then I heard the devastating news. Please call me, love, whenever you want. I will always take a moment to listen to your precious voice. My squirrly 8 year old squeezed between my husband and I, and no way do I want to get that comfortable that I would not have you next to me. And my beloved 14 year old. Your exasperated sighs and eye rolls may irritate me to no end, but you are here to do it. I love you my sons, and I am so glad you are mine. God please comfort those with freshly empty arms. Wrap your loving arms around them and make some good come of this evil act. Please.

Confessions of an InternWhere stories live. Discover now