I get to the office, and my nurse tells me one of my long timers died. You know one of those patients who has been with you for years. You take care of their brother, wife, grandson. You see them quite often to help monitor their chronic medication and fragile medical condition. Their name is on the schedule, and cannot wait to see them and hear their raunchy joke they have been saving up since the last visit. One who will spend time and type into the portal an entire song from the 60’s and then sing for you at the visit.
Who will make home made head cheese, or kahlua or give your a recipe for deep fried bread, or bring the best deer jerky.
Who loves his family and talk about growing up and the trouble he would get into and out of.
The one who is loved by his wife, and will help keep him alive, when you see her, again and again.
The one who teaches you time is so short and how to be brave with all of the medical woes and still have hope and still laugh despite.
His eyes light up when he talks of his favorite past time and hobby, and still joke when in the midst of death, knowing what is coming.
One who comforts you, the caregiver, telling you it will be alright, even though you both know.
The one who makes you shut your office door and sob like a baby because you miss him.