As I reflect on the problems, friends, and joy that I have had over the years woeking at the hospital, I cannot believe how quickly those years have flown by. Many of those days as I lived them seemed to drag and as though they would never end.
I have gone back to the hospital to finish some paper work and syop by after I've had some testing. It is so much different now. The hospital hasn't changed that much I am sure. I haven't changed that much, other than to feel less stressed, but that day to day connection has severed and it will never be restored. A supervisor is so deeply involved in the day to day operation of the hospital, it becomes just like a spider web, woven inside of us. A web that supports and feeds us, but it also traps us. The strands of that web have been broken. That makes me feel like a stranger in a place where I had worked for almost thirty-seven years.

My weary feet ache and my old joints creak.
My voice has gained huskiness when I speak.
My eyes need glasses to help the see.
It's hard to rise from bended knee.
My ears still hear, ut in muffled tones.
My teeth in a glass, spend time alone.
My bladder won't leave me alone at night.
My whiskers thicker and have become white.
I've never been slender or svelt.
Now suspenders sometimes replace my belt.
The older I get, the older I feel.
I may have lost strength, but retain the skill.
Ideas still spark from this elder's brain
I think have managed to stay quite sane.
Youngster, make each second of each day count.
Each person has only a set amount.