I'm wearing rose quartz around my neck. My heart feels so heavy. I've been hit so hard. We lost two patients this week. One of them could have been saved. One of them went into shock right in front of me. I thought she was having an allergy to the oral contrast I had given her. Oh, god, I killed her, I kept thinking. "Wake up, please just wake up," I kept begging through my round of chest compressions. After 40 minutes we stopped resuscitating. Then the family came. I didn't know what to say. "I'm so sorry," I told the woman's only daughter. I asked if she needed anything, brought her a box of tissues, and basically did not know what to do with myself. And then, I locked myself in the bathroom and sobbed.

I am needing to honor these losses, these women who passed, the knocks I'm being hit with. Here's to the honor of the journey bestowed upon me.

Home

The days are long, exhausting. I leave home in the early morning before I have time to wonder whether the sky is gray because the sun hasn't come up yet or because it's going to be pouring rain all day long. Today is the second time this week it's happened. I find myself staring out the hospital windows dazed at the rain. The fact that there is life outside of the hospital seems so strange. And then it begins to rain and it's time to go home and I've got no umbrella. Strange that it should rain so unexpectedly...I think to myself. It's like I am off in space since rotations began at KCH this week.
But, the thought of autumn and burning earthy colored candles and drinking hot tea and getting into a warm pair of sweatpants and the soft pretty sweatshirt that M bought for me makes me so happy. I'm so happy it's autumn. I'm so very exhausted right now and I can't wait to just crawl into bed and sleep feeling the warmth of my orange tea light glowing over my skin.