I wish I had the energy to write when I'm working. I wish I could muster the determination to sit at my computer for just a few minutes and jot down everything that's going on. There are always so many things I want to write about. I try to take mental note of them as they happen and keep them in the forefront of my brain, but it never seems to work. By the time I get home, I'm too exhausted to eat, let alone write. I use every last bit of energy I have left to shower and decontaminate before collapsing into bed, forgetting everything that means anything.
If I had remembered, I probably would have talked about how strange it was to go back to work here in Cali; how I felt like I was living in a state of deja vu, as I drove up the interstate on Monday. I'm back at a hospital I know well, but never thought I'd walk into again. I had happily said my good-byes, convinced my days at this facility were over. But fate had other plans for me, so there I sat in the parking lot, just prior to my shift, dumbfounded I was really about to start another assignment there.
If I could have summoned the energy, I also would have talked about how genuinely good it felt to be back. This is a busy trauma facility, not in the best of neighborhoods, but something about it resonates within me. It was satisfying to get my hands dirty again, and take on some tough cases. It was even better to be able to get back to working with such a talented (and bawdy) staff. I fell right back into my old routines, as though I had never left. Oddly enough, I really felt like I had returned home.
There are so many other things I could write about. It was a big week, for sure. But it's the little things that are standing out in my mind tonight. Who knows what the next few months will bring? I'm sure I'll have some great stories to tell. If I can only remember to write them down before I drift off to sleep...
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