One of the things about working in health care is that you come across people in very difficult life situations. Sometimes people have a lot on their plate. Too much. And sometimes what's on the plate isn't filet mignon, but a big steaming pile of dog poo.
Sometimes when I leave at the end of the day, I feel weighed down from the thought "There but for the grace of God go I." Instead of sitting at the computer writing about my pollen woes, I could be spending the night in my car with the doors locked, praying that my significant other passes out before he comes out looking for me. Or I could be faced with the harsh decision: let the mortgage go unpaid one more month and risk foreclosure or let my kids go hungry. Or I could be so mired in hatred for somebody who wronged me that every aspect of my life--EVERY ASPECT--is tinged with those bad feelings so that I could not see anything good.
It makes me realize how sometimes people really just need a helping hand or a boost.
It also makes me grateful for exercise. I'd go crazy without it.