Tennessee Waltz

Tonight I'm thinking of my 4 year old patient who was devastated about the asthma pump I gave him - because it's the first time he's gotten something that's only his.

To the man asking me not to throw away the skin band the clinic put on for him because he can wash it and reuse it.

To the grandmother who asks me if she can keep the washcloth with which we cleaned her, because they use one washcloth for her and the woman she shares a room with, because the nursing home doesn't have enough.

I am grieving for my 15 year old patient who broke his ankle, and lives alone in a cage without water and electricity or someone to cook for him, but still wants to go to school to learn.

I think of the patients who are shouted at for not taking their pills, but they are told to take the pills with food and they haven't eaten for two days.

I am thinking of the patient for whom she is told to isolate at home, but they are 6 people in a one-bedroom house, and she says her sleeping spot is under the kitchen table, so she is not sure how she is going to do it.

I am thinking of the woman who was almost beaten to death by her husband, and was told to leave him, but she has nowhere to go.

We will never have an idea appreciate so many people in so many parts of the world. We will never be able to help everyone.

But one must learn to share more, to be more grateful, to think more: how long will this toy, blanket stay in my closet before the moths eat it, and how much of a difference it can make in someone else's life. What can an extra R10 for the car guard mean or will I rather just buy another coffee for myself?

Jolene Slabbert FB

Beautiful Embroidery.

Beautiful dinner settings

Decoupage on Glass.

All Things Beautiful.

The Patience of Ordinary Things