Gratitude

For the majority of the patients that come through my department, I'm just a strangely-accented voice on the other end of the phone. I never see them because I work in an entirely different building than the one in which clinics take place. I get the general impression that this distance makes it easier for them to yell at me -- it's always easier to be a bitch to someone when you don't have to look them in the face while you're doing it. And even when people go out of their way to let me know they appreciate my efforts in the work place, they tend to do it at removes -- over the phone, through the consultant. No one ever seeks me out.

Well, until today at least.

A gentleman came in this morning, poked his head around the door and introduced himself as the brother of a patient I've been dealing with since I got here. Shook my hand, said it was nice to meet me, and told me he wanted to let me know what had happened with his sister, who unfortunately passed away recently. He also said that he knew he was terribly pushy sometimes, but that he wanted to thank me for all my efforts and my patience. Then he left a box of chocolates on my desk, said good-bye and left.

There's a lot of reasons that his gesture means a lot to me. He actually sought me out, despite grieving over his sister, to thank me for something that is really just my job. Either I'm really good at it and go above and beyond the call of duty often enough for it to be recognised, or that is a very special person whose hand I just shook. Probably both, actually.

I reserve the right to gripe about my job. It's depressing, it's stressful, some of the patients are appalling and most of my co-workers are either incompetent, insane or both. However, I repeat, this is how I can do this job; times like this help me remember that I am helping people, even if I rarely see the results. While he's grateful to me for doing my job, I'm grateful to him for reminding me why I do it.

Consider This

I've drafted this entry four or five times now, and none of it's right. I really want to go off on one but I don't feel safe enough to do so, because the last time I expressed even generalised vague annoyance, I got a text-based bitch-slap from someone I wasn't even 'talking' to. I'm just so pissed off right now.

Yeah, I deleted my last entry, and I'll probably delete the Christmas one too. I'm sorry if I'm having a bit of a bad time and possibly not expressing myself in the clear, blame-free way my friends have come to expect of me. I wish they would show me the same understanding as I have shown them every single goddamn time they've put their feet squarely in it and I haven't made an issue of it or even said a goddamn word to show how upset I was at the time. But either they don't feel I deserve that kind of consideration, they don't know how to show that kind of consideration, or they just can't be bothered.

Fine. I'm sure I'll be more forgiving when I've calmed down. I should be used to this by now. For the time being, I will exercise some serious self-control and maybe if I'm lucky I will get through the rising tide of fury without destroying anything valuable.