Blood shot eyes staring into my soul. I could almost see the lethargy in his eyes. His face drowsy and downhearted. He looks all put together because he has too. But really, he barely slept the past couple nights from being on call. Doctors, nurses, and patients calling him at every hour of the night. Still getting up early to get to work by 8:00 am. His long pants and his long-sleeved button up shirt looking all nice and spotless. Everything blurry and watery. His side of his face still inflamed from sleeping on his side. He’s been stressed and upset so much; he is just numb. His mind is just blank. His hands and feet tingling from not enough rest. In the mornings he doesn’t even have time for breakfast. Rushing out the door still half asleep.

               Having patients back to back for hours. Knowing that some of these patients have uncurable cancer. Walking into rooms waiting to give the bad news as families are crying. Wounded by the news he has given. Feeling like he let them down by not being able to give them a cure. Not just a cure for cancer but a cure for their sadness and stress. Putting on a fake smile to go see his next patient. He’s breaking inside but tries to hide it from the world. Stressed because his patient’s lives are in the palm of his hands. Doesn’t even have enough time in the day to go to the bathroom or get a drink of water. Running around from clinic to hospital all day.

               Walking into a cold, white, emotionless room. Only too see patients and families waiting for answers. Knowing there probably aren’t any answers to obtain. But they all still have hope. Hope for a second chance at having an ordinary life. He slowly sits down into the little, cold stool next to the patient. Running over all the medicines they take first. He checks the patient out before talking to them about what is going to happen next. Soon the time comes where he has to tell them the news. Holding back a river of tears through his shaky voice. Hurting more because he built a bond with his patient. Soon having to leave the room to go see another patient. He knows that it is going to be the same as the last patient. He skips lunch to go see a new patient in the hospital. He acts optimistic around them. But really his heart is melting, like lava trickling down a hill.

              He gets to work by 8 and come home from anytime from 6-10 pm. Coming home stressed and drained from his long day at work. Not looking forward to the next day ahead of him. He sits down in his reclining chair, doing notes on his computer for his patients. The same tired, drowsy look on his face. His eyes slowly shutting. Falling asleep in his chair. His family doesn’t wake him up because they know that he’s had a hard and stressful day. He needs the sleep. Waking up at 2:00 am still sitting in the same chair. He puts his notes aside and heads upstairs to go to bed. Knowing the next day will be the same. He tries to forget, but all his notes are flooding his head. Those weary blood-shot eyes belonging to my Dad.