For the past 7 years I’ve paid the bills, put food on the table and paid (increasing) tuition by working in an emergency room.  Because the hospital I work at is a trauma center, the cases I’ve seen range from car crashes, shootings, SIDS babies, meth lab explosions and much much more.  When I go home to my wife I look her in the eye, give her a hug and tell her how much I love her.  If I need to talk, we do; otherwise we just enjoy each others’ company.  She allows me to decompress.  For as willing as she is to listen to any and everything I have to bring to the proverbial table, there are two cases that I have never told her about.  One of them was an 11-month-old baby girl that came in under CPR.  I carry around a copy of her EKG strip in my wallet to this very day.  The other case is this one: