monsterjoe

I worked 16 hours at the hospital today. I started out with a team of 8 and by the evening shift I was down to 6. I took care of one 79 year old WWII and Korean War Vet. He's blind in one eye, he's missing his right leg, and he's got pressure sores among other things. It's funny in the odd sense that this man who landed in Normandy on D-day could walk alive out of that only to get chopped to pieces by diabetes in his old age. At one point I was in his room preparing his meds and he was staring off into space for a second then he said, "Bill (he called me that most of the day), I was just thinking of my friend. The last time I saw him he had a bayonet through his throat." I moved on to a different subject as soon as I swallowed. After I was done with his pills I asked him if there was anything else I could do for him. He said "No, you've done everything." I said, "I wish I could do more." Then I left.

I took care of another old man who had been married to his wife for 50 somthing years before she passed on in '99. He kept mentioning it.

Another fella I took care of tonight is in his mid-70's and in the last 6 months or so has taken a turn for the worst. Today he was unresponsive and his wife and his children were at the hospital to decide if they were still going to fight to keep him alive.

That's a pretty typical day at the Veteran's hospital. Usually I tough it out. I think about how much good I can do. I think about what an honor it is to serve these guys, but today was a double shift so I came home tired and emotional.

So when I walked in the door and saw the message light on my machine blinking I thought "hey, somebody loves me." That's what I usually tell myself when I get home. I like to see that light blink.

The second message was from a friend of mine who called up just to say "hey," exactly the kind of love I was looking for. I hardly heard it though. The first message was my brother telling me that one of my toads had gone "bellyup" this morning.

I felt like I got kicked in the gut.

I've had those toads for 5 years and I only lose one when I'm not around. I lost one when I was in NC.

For the last few weeks I've been busy. I spent most of the summer visiting relatives and I don't regret that. Not even though I didn't really prepare well for school and these last three weeks have been a hecktic game of catch up. I missed some important school dates as well as a shift at work because I couldn't keep it all straight or move my schedule around quick enough.

That sick toad that I kicked in the front yard; I tried for three days to get it to eat. I kept feeding it worms that I had bought for my pets. Last Wednesday I fed the last two worms I had to my toads and I've been thinking ever since "I've got to get some more. I gotta feed my pals." But I guess I wasn't quick enough.

So after hearing that message and holding my head in my hands for a few, I got to thinking about cliches like "spinning plates" or "to many irons in the fire." I thought to myself, "well that's what gets ya...the stuff you forgot about." It's like that at work, in relationships, life in general, or war: it's never the stuff you're paying attention to that kills you or your efforts. It's the detail you forgot or didn't have time to attend to.

I'm not crying right now. I haven't shed one tear. It's a frog right? An unloving amphibian and I have other shit to worry about. Human things.

But it hurts. Deep down it hurts bad.

I'm sorry frog.