Two Months

Last night my patient was told she had two months to live. Maybe more, maybe less…

She sat there listening to what the doctor had to say about her poor prognosis, tears building behind her eyes.

He tenderly answered her questions, leaving her no more further scenarios to ponder within her bald head.

He left. I stayed.

I handed her some tissues, helped dry her sunken face, and held her hand as we waited for her family’s return.

She then looked at me suddenly, grinning as she said, “Well… now I have a reason to get cable and sip my fucking margaritas right?”

And I giggled and replied, “Yes… I believe you fucking do”.

❤️🙌

For You

You saw me
when I couldn’t see myself.

You adored me
when I thought I was unlovable.

You caught me
the second you saw me start to fall.

You saved me
when I thought I was unsalvageable.

So I will be here for you.
Not because I feel like I owe you…
but because I love you just as much.