Post by Deleted on Nov 6, 2010 2:09:17 GMT -6
I like my job. Honestly, I do. How could I not? I get to help people. They need to be fixed, and I get to do it. What more could I ask for? Nothing.
But there are parts of my work that bother me. Mainly the possibility of healing kids. I’ll do it, but I won’t be first in line. I just don’t like the idea of holding some kid’s life in my hands. There was this one boy, in the last town I visited. It was nothing serious, just a few cuts on his arms from a bad fall. A couple of them were pretty deep, but the rest were easy to deal with. It was pretty routine, but for some reason I can’t stop thinking about him. I think it was the expression on his face as I worked. He was trying his best to hide it, but I could tell that the kid was in pain. That really bothers me. I mean, I tried to make the stitching as painless as possible, but obviously I failed. I don’t like seeing kids in pain, knowing that I caused that discomfort. I know the pain was unavoidable, but still, I feel bad about making a young kid hurt in order for him to get better.
You know…what if I didn’t do a good enough job? What if the stitches weren’t good enough, and they get torn out? What if the cuts get infected and they have to cut the boy’s arm off? What if he dies? It would be all my fault. His parents would be furious, the whole village would hunt me down, all because I was a little careless. Then I’d have to live with the knowledge that I killed this little boy, who could’ve had a long, healthy life ahead of him. You see why I don’t like dealing with kids?
Another thing that irritates me is the solitude. I’m used to moving around a lot, going from town to town, wherever I’m needed. And I don’t mind that, but sometimes I wish I had someone to keep me company during my travels. Grass doesn’t really do well in conversations. And if I had someone to talk to, maybe I wouldn’t have to write out my thoughts in a journal. Don’t get me wrong, I like this whole writing thing, but it just can’t compare to actually talking to people.
But finding someone would be a major hassle. I mean, my “companion” couldn’t be someone I’ve helped—that would be awkward, especially considering the fact that I tend to see some…private areas when I’m working. That probably wouldn’t make a great talking point.
Say I did manage to find someone. What if I ended up not liking them? Could I just leave, abandon them in the middle of nowhere? That would be mean. But if I honestly didn’t like them…Gah. I’m rambling. I should stop. I’ll continue this later, maybe. For now, I’m done.
But there are parts of my work that bother me. Mainly the possibility of healing kids. I’ll do it, but I won’t be first in line. I just don’t like the idea of holding some kid’s life in my hands. There was this one boy, in the last town I visited. It was nothing serious, just a few cuts on his arms from a bad fall. A couple of them were pretty deep, but the rest were easy to deal with. It was pretty routine, but for some reason I can’t stop thinking about him. I think it was the expression on his face as I worked. He was trying his best to hide it, but I could tell that the kid was in pain. That really bothers me. I mean, I tried to make the stitching as painless as possible, but obviously I failed. I don’t like seeing kids in pain, knowing that I caused that discomfort. I know the pain was unavoidable, but still, I feel bad about making a young kid hurt in order for him to get better.
You know…what if I didn’t do a good enough job? What if the stitches weren’t good enough, and they get torn out? What if the cuts get infected and they have to cut the boy’s arm off? What if he dies? It would be all my fault. His parents would be furious, the whole village would hunt me down, all because I was a little careless. Then I’d have to live with the knowledge that I killed this little boy, who could’ve had a long, healthy life ahead of him. You see why I don’t like dealing with kids?
Another thing that irritates me is the solitude. I’m used to moving around a lot, going from town to town, wherever I’m needed. And I don’t mind that, but sometimes I wish I had someone to keep me company during my travels. Grass doesn’t really do well in conversations. And if I had someone to talk to, maybe I wouldn’t have to write out my thoughts in a journal. Don’t get me wrong, I like this whole writing thing, but it just can’t compare to actually talking to people.
But finding someone would be a major hassle. I mean, my “companion” couldn’t be someone I’ve helped—that would be awkward, especially considering the fact that I tend to see some…private areas when I’m working. That probably wouldn’t make a great talking point.
Say I did manage to find someone. What if I ended up not liking them? Could I just leave, abandon them in the middle of nowhere? That would be mean. But if I honestly didn’t like them…Gah. I’m rambling. I should stop. I’ll continue this later, maybe. For now, I’m done.