1) I love my job. I do. I love what I do. I love the connections I make with patients and families over very scary and life-threatening (and life taking) conditions. But my word, am I ever so glad when Sunday comes and I no longer have to deal with the inevitable clashes that occur because of strong personalities and differing perspectives. Oi.

2) There was an article on NPR a couple of weeks ago about a doctor who kept a diary with one sentence about every patient of his that died over the years. It has resonated with me, although I have joked that my list will be longer than his in just a few years. This week, I only had one death to add to my list.

3) I (semi) have this week off. With this rainy weather, I’m really excited to tackle a few more books on my reading list. I’ve been making my way through Fic: Why Fanfiction Is Taking Over the Word by Anne Jamison, Jesus Feminist by Sarah Bessey, Being Mortal by Atul Gawande, and Rose Under Fire by Elizabeth Wein (the sequel to Code Name Verity which was one of the best books I read last year). It’s been so long since I read actual books for fun, that I’ve almost forgotten how (I read lots and lots of fanfic, but that seems to be different somehow).

4) I am contemplating upgrading my camera. Unfortunately, I’ve gotten a speck or two of dirt in the body and can’t get them out. Cleaning a camera body costs almost as much as replacement and it would be nice to have a camera that could do video. Does anybody have any experience with the D7100 line? Or a Rolleiflex, I could go for a rolleiflex. *drool*

5) On a related note, I watched Finding Vivian Maier some months ago, and I am still constantly thinking about it and how I yearn to document my place and my relation to this world. The reaction against “selfies.” My family’s reactions to me taking pictures at the funerals of my grandparents (my dad’s family being accepting, as a way to connect the generations, my mom’s family deep chagrin and shame, to the point that they have barely talked to me in the two years since). I don’t exactly fear death anymore (I usher it in much too frequently), but I do fear not having some small, if impermanent and brief, tangible imprint. Photography is one of those methods of connections, I guess.