My day was pretty busy
Sometimes, being logical makes you seem difficult, or not fun, not because you are, but because you're not living inside the same "easy" reality others are.
Choosing to be gentle, to think with mercy about what is said and done, by others and by yourself, isn't weakness. It's necessary if you want to feel alive.
Feeling devastated doesn't mean you're broken. It means you're aware of suffering, yours and others'. But you choose not to let it become a constant weight. You try to carry it lightly, because you want to remain alive within it.
A truly smart person doesn't only take care of himself, but of others too. And sometimes, taking care of others matters even more. He doesn't scream in the face of madness. He lowers his voice. He absorbs the noise and answers it with something quiet, and meaningful.
Madness cannot be resisted with more madness. It has to be met with calm, or it wil consume everything.
Here, beauty means something different. What is beautiful here might not be seen the same way elsewhere. The same goes for everything, people, nature, even dreams. Not because we are born different, but because we have been tested in ways that reshape how we see the world, and how the world sees us.
We have seen something close to hell. And when you live through that, you don't come out the same. You become anxious about existence itself, because survival no longer feels like an answer.
ljust wanted the world to know that we are still here, fighting, even without hope, because we don't really know what else to do.
*Hebrew Channel 14: lsrael is preparing to resume fighting in Gaza at the beginning of next month..."
Last night, during my shift, I asked a middle aged woman to consider seeing a psychiatrist. She refused, and screamed she's not crazy.
I told her she isn't, and that necding psychological help doesn't mean she's crazy. I even told her that I would seek that kind of help myself.
She has advanced liver cancer. She has come to the emergency department many times, not only for physical pain, but for severe psychological distress. This time, she was Screaming, not just from illness, but from feeling trapped in her own body, and from a need for meaning, and for some kind of redemption for what she's enduring.
Countless horrific stories can be told from a single shift, most of them carrying deep, preventable suffering,
A young boy was shot in the chest while inside his tent, suffering a massive lung hemorrhage.
Two children had their heads run over by carts being dragged by cars.
It has become routine to hear patientS wishing for death.
