all of my days

my mind needs to run. it is so beautiful outside- it's calling. but my body is jet-laggy and so tired. my heart is in between- needing to run, needing to be still, needing to cry- at the beauty of it all, and the sorrow.

a long day of work. and not a lot of sleep last night. it's friday. the day when i get to be peoples doctor. when i spend time with people who are in a different world. who belong to a different club. they are sick. they are dying, sometimes slowly, sometimes soon. they have life still and they are teaching me.

i had a student with me today- he's doing an elective with me- he's at the beginning- but he has wisdom in him. sometimes i see things differently when i can see through the eyes of someone who is where i was once. today we got to see one of my favorite patients (i know, i always say that- but really- i enjoy him and his wife so much!) they have volunteered to let me interview them in front of a large group of students, about their experience with terminal illness- with facing the things we all avoid- with looking death in the face- with looking ourselves in the face- with seeing ourselves as finite. and we were able to talk with them today about the past year- we were able to reflect together on our shared experience of his illness- his dark place last year when i thought we were close, and his revival to good health and happiness- despite living with cancer, terminal cancer.

next an old man with dementia-who doesn't speak- or walk or look in the eye. a man who shares my birthday. we can't communicate but are we united in the stars? i wondered.

another older patient with pain. not actively dying- but in pain and with years of life- years of wisdom. and conversation can bring down the pain. connection.

then we moved on to another patient- with another cancer. a patient who's been homeless for most of his life- who has seen a world i have never seen. a man who's disease brought him home. in illness came redemption. in pain- came peace. in confusion and unknowing, came clarity. i have so much to learn.

these are the ones who remind me of being thankful. of being. of the value we all have in our humanness- in our process- naked and vulnerable we enter the world and that is how we head out as well. illness strips you. i see it all the time. in the end- all that we've done, all that we've acquired, all the initials after our names, just doesn't matter. it's those people we've influenced, those we've shared ourselves with- those who've touched us- that is what matters- what sustains- what gives the grace.

and today, in my fog, i am grateful for it all.