It's my weekend to work.  Which means Saturday and Sunday, 12.5 hours each day.  It means lots of patients, call lights, doctors and families.  It means emergencies, teaching, discharging, and admissions.  It means orders, tests, IV starts, and blood sugars.  It means people who are truly there because they need health care, and it means people who are truly there to get a good buzz off the best narcotic.  But nonetheless, I love my job.

I don't ever forget WHY I do what I do, and I always, at least once, call my husband and my mom.  Just to catch up, see how their day is going.  Ask how my kids are and what they are going to do that day.  Just to try to stay in the loop while I am involved in other's "loops".

Today I made an extra call.  I called my sister.  Want to know what we talked about?  Meerkats.  And how cute and squishy their heads are.  And how they stretch real long to look all all around.  We giggled at the randomness of our conversation (that really only lasted maybe 10 minutes total), rehashed the upcoming events of this week, and then said our goodbyes.

I hung up the phone as the call lights sounded behind me, doctors shouted out "WHO IS THE NURSE FOR 603? and the phone kept ringing, likely a transporter wanting to know if 604 bed 1 was ready to go to her chest x-ray, I sat back and smiled. 

I can still talk to her.  I can still laugh with her.  I can still see, touch, and BE with her.

Love you, Les.