Last weekend, I worked at the hospital. As weekends go, it was a pretty smooth one. No angry doctors, the patients were generally agreeable, and no last minute procedures thrown into the schedule leaving me stuck on the clock that much longer.
Every time I work at the hospital, though, I am reminded of my own health. I've had patients who have various illnesses brought on by smoking or drinking too much, some with injuries related to these vices; I have some with heart issues, diabetes, etc that may be helped, even prevented by taking care of oneself. And while it's easy to say "this could've been prevented," it's equally important to realize that many diseases and illnesses do not discriminate. Each patient should be treated respectfully in this manner. Despite anyone's individual weakness toward a particular vice, I, too, have my own weaknesses and would want my treatment to be top priority to those working with me.
Every time I work at the hospital, I am also reminded of my mortality, as well as my loved ones. Death is ugly and inevitable, yet for a few lucky people can be peaceful and quiet. I like to think of those who have gone on ahead of me as being welcomed into heaven. That does give me some peace. Jesus paved this path for me, by dying for me, and giving me baptism. One day, heaven will be my path. I do have fears and anxiety about it; that is normal, I am finding, and more often, I find that many people my own age are starting to have these fears. That is, I guess a weakness of faith. Thinking about not being with my kids or my husband is overwhelmingly sad to me, yet I am confident of their path to heaven, too, being baptized and forgiven as well.
I now include in my daily prayers that God continually strengthens my faith and knowledge of His love, that He will protect and preserve me on this earth as long as He sees fit. The human in me says I hope it will be for a long time, to see my kids grown and possibly have their own children. But that's just me.