Service

I was thinking back on my past lives, at least the ones I can remember. And I noticed a pattern - in all four I died young. and in all of them I died trying to save a family member. 

In one, sometime in the 1700s, my brother and I are peasant children, in the service of some wealthy woman. We are happy, until the flood comes. They leave us, locked in the basement. watching as the waters come. all I can think about is my brother. he couldn't have been more than eight years old. I made sure that he got out of that window before the water overcame me entirely. 

In another, somewhere in the 1950s, I'm walking home alone one night. I could sense something was really really wrong. And then those men came. robbed me. beat me. left me for dead. I crawled for miles, until I came across a young man. And the only thing I could say to him before it all ended was to save my baby.

Then there's the escapist flashback. There is a group of us running from this house. I have no idea why. I just know I don't ever want to go back in that house. There comes a point where the group gets separated. I trip. and I stumble across a toddler. I look at him and I know he's mine, but there's no one else around him. he's scared, crying. and they can hear him from miles out. To save him, I wrap him up in my jacket and hide him at the next house I come to, while I imitate his cries and run in the opposite direction.

Lastly there is my wedding. I just took my vows, we said our "I Do"s. I've just been introduced as his wife. And the doors to the church are blown open by gunshots. I watch friends. family. the priest. take bullets all over. All I can think about is saving Him, making sure He survives it all. I watch as one of the gunmen raises a Tommy and points it square at His chest. Without thinking, I dove in front of him, taking a blow to the stomach. I knew I was dying, but in true, hard Italian fashion, I pulled at the Tommy, turned it on the gunman, and caught him square in the chest before it all ended.

Why did these all come to mind? Because randomly at 11:54 at night I had this urge to find those two foster kids my sister had when I was young, and save them. from their horrible dad. from a life they didn't ask for. from a future they didn't deserve. I have this...need, to save people. I've prostrated myself on many an occasion, just so someone else wouldn't have to.

Service is my life. I think I love to serve others. Not in the literal sense, but in the sense of it making me unabashedly happy to see others make it. To see them succeed. And I love to be a part of it in any fashion. Healthcare is where I need to be. Where I love to be. As long as I get to make my patients' day even an iota better.