Sometimes I find myself envious. Envious of the chaplain who gets to stand by my dying patient's bed and openly pray with the family. Of the patient care tech who gently tucks my patient into their bed, neatly enveloping them in blankets and feeding them their dinner. Or the social worker who so graciously eases the transition from hospital to home. But, instead I hold the knowledge. I'm the one no family member wants to miss because I bear the information they need to know. How bad it truly is. Whether this is it. The prognosis. I love people. I truly do. My gift is not as a PA, or a diagnostician or a medical person. My gift is to love without reservation. Especially those who are helpless. My dying oncology patients, a person with disabilities, a psychiatric patient, a person in a developing country; the voiceless. And this love I have, sometimes makes me wish I didn't have the role or answers that I do. I am blessed to be able to help people from a medical standpoint, but sometimes I just want to be the one who doesn't know. The one who stands next to them and just loves them. Who cries with my patients when the situation is unbearable, who shares in their pain. Instead, I find myself having to leave the situation because after that news is delivered I'm the one they don't want to see. Oh to find that middle ground. Please keep the patients I have in the hospital right now in your prayers as they are preparing to meet Jesus.