Even though my taste buds were expecting something even a little more delicious, my heart sure did enjoy itself some homemade tamales last night.
The little creations were a gift from a patient who I met during one of my first shifts in the ER here in Grand Island and who I've been able to follow in clinic over the last few months. I've been able to get to know her, her grandson, and their story in a matter of about 15 minutes every month. Despite different languages, ages, nationalities, socioeconomic statuses, etc... we've kind of bonded. Maybe it's because we're both women or mothers, or maybe because we both like to eat (and despite that, we've still been able to cut her A1C in half!). Regardless, I would almost say we're friends. But now one of my first Grand Island patients is moving away. Hopefully, she's leaving healthier and better educated about her disease. And I'm staying here with a warm heart and a full stomach.
(And on a 100% totally different topic... why are all of these horrible cruise ship stories happening when we are trying to plan our first cruise ever for this summer? Is this a sign? Maybe God, like Jason, wants us to go on the Lewis and Clark historical tour instead after all.)
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