Comfort By Peggy _______________ When I hurt, he comforts me. It doesn't matter if I'm suffering from a broken heart, a broken leg or a broken spirit. Somehow he always makes it better. When the girl of my dreams turns out to be a nightmare -- again -- he listens to me whine and tells me there are plenty more fish in the sea. And he's right. When we've lost a patient despite our best efforts, when I feel powerless and question the value of this career I've chosen, he reminds me of the ones we did save, of the importance of what we do. And it gives me the strength to keep going. When I wake up in yet another hospital bed, groggy from pain meds and coughing up soot, his face is the first thing I look for. It's always there. His presence soothes me. When I see his smile I know I'll be all right. He is partner, friend, mentor, conscience, confidant, brother -- all these things and much more. I treasure everything he is to me, everything he does for me. But most of all I treasure this: When I hurt, he comforts me. It is a gift whose value is beyond measure. _______________ Author's Notes: This story is for my dear friend, Audrey W. |