The Drive Home
Eventually you’re going to be forced to travel in some inclement weather: December and trying to get home from the hospital. The roads are coated with several inches of snow and ice. Even the highway is coated in packed snow and ice with no clear lane demarcations. Only the barriers and tree line define the roadway. Travel is slow and there are people spun-out on the side of the road. But, after the long time spent in the hospital, all you want is to get home. People fool themselves into thinking that they are actually driving in conditions like this. There is very little in the way of control. The direction you steer is a pleasant thought, but often irrelevant. If the path is predictable at all, it is from the marks in the snow made from those who traveled before you. The cars stranded on the road side are examples of what happens to those who try to fight the physics that are in play. The break peddle is nothing more than a crewel joke: as if there were any way to slow your progression. You are best to just forget its existence. The accelerator is a little more responsive but truth be known, anything you do to exhibit control (steer, speed up, slow down) is nothing more that a mere suggestion as to what you would like to happen.
On that Sunday drive home after being on call in the hospital I realized the triangular metaphor between the trip home, the patients and the patient care.
