I sat in this room alone for a bit at noon today. It was the only space in the facility where I was seeing patients that the television was not blasting the inaugural festivities for #45. 

Feeling a bit nauseous, I retreated. I. Could. Not. Watch. Props to you if you did. I couldn’t. 

A coworker joined me in solidarity for a few moments. We shared in the silence. The frustration. The WTF-ness of it all. 

I went back to my patients. For to the dying, the whereabouts and pontificating of a bunch of billionaires mean nothing. 

I counted breaths. Held hands. Found tissues. Read words of eternal Hope. 

And that was a fitting focus of my efforts. 
Tomorrow… we march!!

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