Yesterday, I got to work, and they told me I had the day off. I went to Arlington Cemetery. People swarmed like armies of ants. I didn't get to see the ceremonies at the Tomb, because others had more patience to weasel their ways to a point of view. I did get to see Thomas, though. I spent some time watching him. He stood straight as an arrow and held his mouth and jaw strong as the ants streamed around him. He and the other men are images of strength. Afterwards, we went to a pool party with his buddies and ate burgers. All of his buddies's wives want to be nurses.
Today, I got to work, and they told me a patient I took care of last week died over the weekend. I didn't think about it again until the drive home. It makes me cry a little. I love it, though. More than any other feeling, I feel honored to have taken care of that woman in her last days. I rubbed her feet and back. I warmed up her soup in the microwave. I did all of the piddly things like keeping track of her IV lines, giving her meds, making up her bed. Somehow, they're important.
Our day on the floor was so busy that our manager bought us milkshakes. I didn't get time to eat mine. I don't even know if it came. There were some things that I couldn't get to today, like lunch, and double checking fluid orders. I think this is a trend I'll be experiencing more. I ask God for help with knowing which things are the most important. I do everything I can, and I leave the rest up to Him.