When you’re a PA, every day you try to make people healthy, but you have to be stealthy because only the really wealthy seem to care, the rest are trying to get by and they don’t ask why, they don’t cry, they just do, so it’s you who has to sneak some health into their day to day, make their pain go away without any lifestyle change, and it’s strange and outrageous but poverty isn’t contagious, so you treat everything else and hope that somebody else gets to the root of the problem, because you’re just a brute who will rob them of their copay when they really need a good job and decent pay, a balance between work and play, something to pray to and something to eat that’s not fast food, but you don’t want to be rude and you only have ten minutes to fit it in so you refill their meds and hope the feds don’t catch you giving pain pills to someone who’s not dying, even if they’re crying, you have to be tough, because life is rough and sometimes tylenol has to be enough, because they might abuse and you have a license you could lose and it’s not worth the risk, but if you’re not taking risks what is this, why are you here, why live in fear when you could be changing lives, giving high fives to patients who not only survived, but were given the tools to thrive, isn’t that what you’re striving for, and when you walk in the door the smile should be real, you should feel something, reveal the truth and heal deeper than the surface, because these are real humans and they’re worth it.