4am

It's 4am, we are literally in the middle of this guy's chemo. I'm checking orders, vital signs, and blood return on his central line. I'm changing fluids and medicating for nausea. The girl in the room next door is crying. My patient sighs. "Are you ok?" I ask, checking his monitor and his lines. "She sounds like she's in pain," he nods his head toward their shared wall. "I hope she's ok." He looks worried. He certainly has no shortage of things to worry about, yet he's worried about her. When you've lost a little faith in humanity, you can sometimes find it in the middle of the night, in the corner of the hospital.