Home base

Twelve hours on my feet and I’m dragging myself through the door like a zombie. But there’s Jake in the kitchen, plating up what smells like his mom’s famous chicken and rice recipe.

Home base

No fanfare, no big gesture – just dinner ready and waiting because he knows I’m wiped.

It’s funny how these little moments end up meaning everything.

That welcome home smile

Three months into this job and I’m still figuring out the rhythm of coming home completely drained versus coming home energized. Today was definitely a draining day – we had two admits, a discharge that took forever because family kept asking the same questions, and Mrs. Patterson in 314 who keeps pulling out her IV.

Jake just gets it though. Doesn’t ask a million questions about my day until I’ve had food and five minutes to decompress. Sometimes I think he knows what I need before I do. Tonight that’s apparently chicken, rice, and sitting on the couch in silence for twenty minutes before I’m ready to be a real person again.