to support him, and here I was focused on a missing limb that wasn't
and body odor.
My inner self screamed, "What the hell is wrong with you?" I stared
into those tearful blue eyes and assured him that I would take care of
him during surgery and that I would watch over his bag of clothes
while he was asleep. He would be with his family soon and I asked him
to focus on getting well quickly.
I walked out, washed my hands and took a deep breath before head-
ing to my next assigned room, hoping against hope that I will stop
passing judgment on people in whose shoes I've never walked.
OSM
Contact Ms. Watkins at pwatkins12@comcast.net.
M a y 2 0 1 7 • O U T PA T I E N TS U R G E R Y. N E T • 1 1 1
