I do not like it sam i am.

shut up sam.

i do not want it in a box or with a fox,

or whereverthefuck with a whateverthefuck.

who knows what i want just stay the fuck away.

stupid fox.

worst part of the job.

it's not the rude patients or the rude families.
it's not the demanding demented patients.
it's not the confused wandering ones who creep into other patients' rooms and steal their food.
it's not the grouchy old men who hit on you.
it's not cleaning people up or changing diapers.
it's not paging doctors repeatedly until they finally call you back to clarify orders.
it's not the heavy lifting or the long hours on your feet.
it's not the long days, or evenings, or nights.
it's not missing out on weekend fun because you have to go in to work.
it's not the lack of sleep.


it's that moment when you find your patient unresponsive.
the moment you pick up the phone to tell him his mother unexpectedly passed.
the moment you hear the awful look he must have had on his face.
the moment you give him your condolences and hand him her belongings.

the moment when you become the last person to see someone alive.

nostalgia.

it brings out the worst in us, in the best of times.

don't you forget.

it 's April 21.
how welcome i felt around you will never be matched.
may you rest in peace.



you will always be the small dog in shorts on the night time page,
but you will always have such a big place in my heart.
go dawg go.

current life status.

alive.
working.
working out?
new people are coming in and old ones are going out.
it's a bit lame how that happens, i feel visits come and go in cycles and revolving doors are stupid.
sometimes your purse gets stuck between the door and the frame.
it's a bit sad sometimes to think of the what if's and all the potential possibilities.