Even doctors get days off
I told my cousin, a doctor, that I’m working on vacation.
She said Goddess, I only work on vacation because there are some clients I cannot help but check in on because they are dying.
That was like getting walloped with a walleye across the face.
I’m like well two of us are off so we’re both working part-time so the other doesn’t have to carry the whole load. But I’ll carry the load next week so she can enjoy a week.
My cousin’s like and when is YOUR week? And don’t you get like four weeks anyway?
It’s not the job, to be clear. It’s my job to take the time, for starters, and to TAKE THE TIME once that time is taken off.
I get to thinking about some of those final conversations with Mom. And how she was so happy for me to have landed back where I am. But that she never, ever wants me to be so comfortable that it becomes a stopping point.
I don’t really know what’s next for me if this ends or if I decide to end it.
But I do see where I would be a lot healthier if I were outside and not using my “time off” simply to keep up.
I sure hope tomorrow is the last birthday of hers where I have to work even if I don’t want to.
And don’t think I’m not sitting in this hotel with two yowling cats thinking about how I should have spent her final birthday fully and completely present with her.
And definitely don’t think I’m enjoying my trip as much as the money I’ve spent on it suggests I need to.
Anyone who expects me to come back rested … might want to adjust that expectation now.