The D Spot

I think its called compassion fatigue—
the sense of ‘oh man not another one’
or
‘geez just take your pain meds/abx/fluids and go’
I hate it in myself.
I love being a nurse
I love my patients
I love the difference that I make for someone
on a daily basis.
But
I guess sometimes I am worn thin…
sometimes I have given and given and given
and its just been taken.
Its the patient’s right and I don’t blame them.
Im there to help them, hold their hands and teach them.
But the tank runs dry occasionally;
No repletion
No refill on the emotions.
And I need to retreat for a while
Hide in my bed, my blankets, my dreams
to find what I’ve lost used and given.
And hopefully get up the next day and
give again.
If I were a drinking woman…
well, I’d have a beer.
As it stands though, my release comes from pathetically typed words
in a hidden journal
hiding in the forest.