There were random spackles of raindrops when I left my apartment this morning. But with each step there was an audible crescendo, until an all out downpour was chasing me in through the trauma bay doors. I tilted my head forward and the rain I’d caught on my way in dripped down my nose in a steady stream. Just another day.
Sometimes I have stories that I keep to myself. Stories I’ll never forget, each with their own treasure. I say that to perhaps give myself an excuse for not sharing anything the past while. The stories have been for me alone.
But in all honesty, I feel as if a cloud of gloom is currently settled over Westchester surgery residents. Can’t seem to shake it. May just be myself, and wanting a weekend, and then projecting my own gloom onto my co-workers. But even that is beyond my abilities of diagnostic psychiatry. Just going to have to start by smiling more myself.
Much Love.
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