The truth is I miss it - the little black box that brings terror, pain and excitement. The shrieking has not pierced the darkness of my dreams or pulled the food from my mouth as it sits poised ready for consumption. My heart has not submitted to the adrenaline-nduced pounding. Faces have not looked up at me with relief or gratitude. My mind has not scrambled to pull that distant piece of vital information that would surely explain what is being presented in front of me.
No broken glass. No broken bodies. No broken hearts.
All except mine. I miss it. I miss it more than I thought I ever could and yet, something in metells me it isn't time yet. Soon, but not now.
I never thought I would miss it this much and I still can't bring myself to go back. At least, not yet.
2 comments:
I have been there.
I know exactly what you are saying. If you need to talk, find me.
And when you are ready (and not one moment sooner)go. Do what you need to do.
But not until you are ready. *hugs*
It is painful to turn off the little Minolta IV, to surrender the control to others, to hear a siren and wonder what its for, and not rush out to join them. But sometimes it has to be done. For you, for the patient, for the service, for your town.
Keeping busy is like a therapy. You find yourself unable to realize that you didn't do any calls in a while, and you find you don't miss the adrenaline so much. It's just really hard on the quiet nights alone.
I've been there, and I'm still there very often, unfortnatly, not through self-exile, but through "mom-exile" by being alone with the toddler. Somehow I just can't picture dragging him along. :)
Anyway, I've been out of the blog world for a bit, and just saw the bit that you are still going to be in Boston, but I can't do this weekend!! DARN IT!!! I hope you have fun!
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