Sadie POV
And as I continued my work at the hospital, I carried Lolo Ben's spirit with me, forever grateful for the lessons he had taught me about love, resilience, and the beauty of the human spirit. In every smile I offered to a patient, in every act of kindness and compassion, I knew that Lolo Ben's promise to me had not been in vain. His memory would live on through the care and love I shared with others, a beacon of hope and strength in the face of adversity.
In the midst of my sorrow, I clung to the memory of Lolo Ben's warm smile and the precious moments we had shared. He taught me so much about love, resilience, and the power of compassion.
As days passed, despite my efforts to honor Lolo Ben's memory, a heavy burden of guilt continued to weigh on my heart. I couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, I had failed him, that I should have done more to save him. The blame I placed on myself became a constant companion, casting a shadow over even the smallest moments of joy.
One evening, after a particularly difficult day at the hospital, I found myself sitting alone in my condo, the weight of my emotions becoming too much to bear. Tears welled up in my eyes once again, and I couldn't help but replay every moment I had spent with Lolo Ben in my mind.
"Why couldn't I do more?" I whispered to the empty room. "Why couldn't I save him?"
In the midst of my sorrow, Abby appeared at my door, sensing that I needed someone to lean on.
"Sadie, you can't blame yourself," she said gently, sitting beside me. "You did everything you could. You were there for him, you provided the best care, and you were his friend when he needed one the most."
"But I promised him, Abby," I choked out between sobs. "I promised him that I would take care of him, that he would be a survivor. I let him down."
Abby held my hand, offering comfort and understanding. "Lolo Ben knew you cared deeply for him, and he wouldn't want you to carry this burden. Cancer is a relentless foe, and sometimes even the bravest of fighters succumb to it.
I wiped away my tears, trying to find some semblance of peace in Abby's words. "I just wish I could have saved him, given him more time."
"We all wish for that," Abby said softly. "But you need to remember that you are just one person, a nurse with a compassionate heart. You can't control the outcome of every battle, no matter how much you care."
The weight of her words sank in, and I realized that perhaps I had been too hard on myself. I had given my all to Lolo Ben, and my dedication to his care had been unwavering. However, I had to accept that some things were beyond my control.
As days turned into weeks, I began to find some solace in the memories of Lolo Ben's strength and the impact he had on my life. I still carried the pain of his loss, but I tried to channel it into greater empathy and support for my other patients.
Abby encouraged me to seek professional help in coping with my feelings of guilt and grief, and I reluctantly agreed. Talking to a therapist allowed me to process my emotions in a healthier way, gradually easing the weight of blame I had placed upon myself.
Through therapy, I learned that being a nurse meant accepting both the triumphs and the heartaches that came with the profession. I realized that my dedication to my patients didn't mean I could always change the outcome, but I could make a difference in their lives through compassion, care, and understanding.
As time passed, I continued my efforts to honor Lolo Ben's memory, finding ways to support cancer research and patient care in his name. While the pain of his loss would never fully fade, I learned to carry it alongside the lessons he had taught me about love, resilience, and the complexities of life.
And as I cared for my patients, I held onto Lolo Ben's spirit, forever grateful for the time we had shared and the profound impact he had on my life as a nurse and as a friend. I knew that I couldn't change the past, but I could shape the future, continuing to be a source of comfort and strength for those facing life's most challenging moments, just as he had been for me.
                                                                                 Dr. Harrison POV
 I noticed that Sadie, one of the nurses on our team, seemed distant and not as cheerful as she usually was. Concerned about her well-being, I decided to approach Abby, another nurse who was close to Sadie, to see if she had any insights into what might be going on.
One afternoon, during a brief lull in the hospital's hectic schedule, I found Abby sitting at the nurse's station, organizing some paperwork. I walked up to her and greeted her warmly.
"Hey, Abby," I said with a smile, "do you have a moment to talk?"
She looked up from her task and returned the smile. "Sure, Dr. Harrison. What can I do for you?" I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to express my concern. "I've noticed that Sadie hasn't been her usual cheerful self lately. Is everything okay with her?"
Abby's expression softened, and she sighed, as if she had been expecting someone to notice. "I'm glad you asked, Doctor. Sadie's been going through a tough time recently. Her so-called-grandfather, who she was very close to, passed away last week, and it's been really hard on her."
My heart sank as I heard the news. I hadn't been aware of Sadie's loss, and I immediately felt a sense of regret for not being more attentive to her emotions. "I had no idea. I'm so sorry to hear that," I replied, my voice filled with genuine concern.
Abby nodded, appreciating my empathy. "It's been a difficult time for her, and she's trying her best to cope with the loss. But I think she's been feeling a bit overwhelmed, especially with the demands of work on top of her grief."
I nodded in understanding. "Is there anything I can do to support her? Maybe offer some time off or shift changes?"
Abby smiled gratefully. "That might help, but I think the most important thing right now is just letting her know that you're there for her. She values your opinion and support, and it would mean a lot to her to know that she can lean on you during this time."
"I'll make sure to do that," I replied sincerely. "Thank you for letting me know, Abby. I'll check in on her and see if there's anything I can do to ease her burden."
As I turned to leave, Abby placed a reassuring hand on my arm. "I appreciate your concern, Dr. Harrison. Sadie is lucky to have someone like you looking out for her."
With a nod of gratitude, I went on my way, my mind focused on Sadie and how I could be there for her during this difficult period. Sometimes, it's the little things – a listening ear, a kind word, or just a heartfelt gesture – that can make a world of difference to someone in need. And as her friend and colleague, I was determined to be that support system for Sadie, helping her through her grief and bringing back the smile that had temporarily dimmed.
While i was on my way to my office, i saw her walking towards the same way.
"Hey Sad.." i stopped when Doc. Carson suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He gave a paper bag to Sadie, and i can see from the way Carson looked at her, i know he like her.
"maybe she already have someone to accompany her huh?" i whispered and walks on the other way.