I had a friend of mine today say "You're one of the only girls I know that actually misses the work" And I said to myself...I says "Self...Only six more weeks. And then I thought...You spend 8 hours a day 5 days a week in a sunless cubicle, staring at the walls and a computer screen typing in DXs and ICD9s, who wouldn't miss the street?" Right? I need the streets. They are my life. They are a part of me. I feel the need for drips and drugs boluses. I feel the need for blood and guts and Chest Pain and Shortness...I need gunshots and MVAs. I need retarded drunks argueing with me about taking them to the hospital. I need to be able to yell at the stupid DUI kid who just slammed his car into a pole and who has the audacity to call me a bitch. I need precordial thumps, cardioversions, Radid Sequence intubations and needle decompressions. I need to look death in the face and go...HA HA not today you sick bastard! Your not taking him today! I need my old life back. I'm sick of looking at ICD9s and choosing between ALS1 rides and ALS2 rides.
I dream of the day I go back. I miss it. I feel kinda useless. But I am healing. The healer is healing. so I will continue to heal until the day the orthopod says to me "B- you are ready, go forth...save the crackheads; save the sick...save the stupid."