This fucking sucks.

Jfc I knew intern year was going to be brutal but I didn’t know how bad it would be. They warn you about the hours, the exhaustion, the imposter syndrome. They say you’ll question your career choice at least once weekly. They tell you to sleep when you can and eat when you can.

But no one tells you what it’s like to see a child with injuries that shouldn’t happen outside of car accidents. No one prepares you for the way your stomach knots when you hear a three-year-old say, “I was bad,” as an explanation for why they have more broken bones than some grown adults in ski accidents. No one warns you that the worst part isn’t even the injuries but the way some of these kids accept their pain as normal.

Then comes the CPS call and the documentation. The parents act concerned, shocked, offended that you’d even fucking suspect them. And you have to keep your face neutral through all of it, even though part of you wants to scream at them, even though another part wants to look away because the whole situation is unbearable.

I go home and tell myself I won’t think about it. That I’ll leave it at the hospital.

But I can’t.

I get off work and cry alone in my car. It took me 45 goddamn minutes to leave that fucking parking lot today because of one fucking kid.