Mr. Rogers

Sometimes I feel like Mr. Rogers. I guess should explain. See, every day, I get up, take a shower, and drive to school. When I get out of my car, I take my short white coat from where it lives on the back of my seat, put it on, and throw my stethoscope around my neck. Then I walk the short distance to the hospital and be a fake doctor all day. Afterwards, I walk the short distance back to my car, take off my white coat, and put on my jean jacket (if I was feeling particularly rock star-ish that morning) or sweatshirt, and head home. I don't have a zippered cardigan, and I don't change my shoes to slippers, but the idea is basically the same. The ritual is comforting. But unlike the dichotomy in my outerwear, I don't shift gears as fast. I am still thinking about a patient I saw in clinic last week, wondering if her recent blood clot in her leg and anemia is pointing toward an occult malignancy somewhere...maybe colon cancer? I'm not sure which is worse...not being able to distance myself from people who are hurting, or hardening my heart to where I can no longer see that they are hurting. I hope it gets easier.

"Put me together, one heart and mind; then, undivided, I'll worship in joyful fear."