Emma Tyrell keeps a private WordPress Blog where she records private thoughts. The blog is completely hidden and unattributed to her.

Patient JE arrived to the ER yesterday, accompanied by husband and children. She had a fractured rib, a broken wrist, a battered face and empty eyes-- another of Hathian's broken dolls. The attending called me to the ER right away; the signs of abuse are familiar to him-- a sad truth of where we live. While a social worker cared for the children and the police handled the husband (none-too-gently, I might add), the medical staff worked to care for her physical wounds. And then it was my turn. But my process will take longer, much longer. Healing the invisible wounds will take time and the scars will likely never fade. Not for JE or any of the women who face such cruelty.

I find that self-care is so important after a day like that. In our field, we often face second-hand trauma from the cases we see. I make it a point to decompress after handling cases like that. So I left work yesterday evening, planning to meet up with Oliver, but he flaked out again. He called me at 2am with some excuse that I don't even remember. I ended up almost groping some stranger in front of the Poison Apple, though, because I thought it was Ollie! That was embarrassing. The guy handled it pretty well, though.

Then I made my way to the Twister for a few drinks-- not enough to get drunk, just enough to take the edge off the day. Jack never lets me down. But after I finished my drink, I ran into the familiar problem of not knowing what to do with myself. Working such irregular shifts has made it hard to connect with anyone in town yet. Maybe I can find myself a hobby?