Even as I grow torpid and still, I remember that I promised myself that I would see the ocean today, come hell or high water. The temptation to just crash out on my bed is immense, but I know I will be a lesser person if I give in.
Last night was not an awful call night, but it was certainly not a restful one. For some reason the poor nurse couldn’t get that damned NG tube to point downwards instead of straight up at the gastroesophageal junction. Not exactly what you want in a guy who had just barely avoided intubation after aspirating. So we shot three x-rays (thank God he’s 86 and I don’t really have to worry about the malignancy risk) before the nurse finally just pulled out the old one and stuck in a new one. Fun times.
I wish they would put a PACS machine near the call rooms.
But then again, that’s probably a moot point, because, unless I’m extraordinarily unlucky and get called-in to cross-cover, I won’t have to take call at this particular hospital again.
There are all sorts of whirling, swirling thoughts coalescing within my fevered brain, just aching to be written down. Things that I can’t simply blog about in order to do them justice. I just need to sit somewhere and think long and hard about what I want from this life and write it in ink.
It’s difficult. There is only one thing I’ve ever accomplished so far, and I’ve relied heavily on incredibly good luck, on the generosity and saint-like patience of my parents, aunts, uncles, siblings, and friends, and on whatever unfair advantages that God decided to equip me with at birth to get where I’ve gotten.
So success is not something I can aim at in a calculated fashion. It is somewhat bewildering to dissect out when exactly my desire became my destiny. It was never an issue of wanting it badly enough. There are lots of things that I’ve wanted so badly I thought I would die when they didn’t come to fruition, where I thought I would die just with the aching desire of them.
It was never an issue of doing my best either. There were a lot of times I functioned in a peremptory, half-assed manner, with my heart not in it at all, and I still somehow survived.
Sometimes I wonder if that’s all a man is entitled to: that single massive accomplishment that took half-a-lifetime to achieve. Maybe it’s all downhill from here, for all I know.
I was going to use all this free time to try and fix the awful disaster area that is my apartment, but the sun is shining…