February 18, 2009
My sister has to turn her back on her passion. What she loves? The full out call, driving the ambulance, lights and sirens screaming. She tells me, who raised her, thereís nothing like bringing someone back to life. Until the rush ends and you think, Why this person? Why me? Why? How can you do this and just go home and forget about it? But some stay in your head, as you drive home on the dark roads, as you beg any God to let you sleep at night. There are no atheists among insomniacs who close the deadís eyes.