Making a Difference

I miss my old job. It was frustrating in a lot of respects. There was always something unfinished. I was usually behind on at least half a dozen things. Some of the parents were maddening in their capacity for complete ignorance, no matter how many conversations I had with them.

But I miss it because I really felt like I made a difference to some people. I knew it when a mother left my office, relieved that she had a dentist to take her child to. I knew it when a panicked child calmed down during his breathing treatment. I knew it when a Spanish-speaking-only parent realized that not only could I understand him, but I could also help him get a doctor's appointment for his child with a 104 degree fever.

I miss the people I worked with. They knew what I was going through because they were going through it, too. All my frustrations and victories were the same for them. We were a team and we worked together so well.

I miss the kids in the school. So many of them were in my office regularly. I got to know them and their conditions. I worked with their parents to coordinate things at school and at home. I wonder how a few of them are doing now and how much they've grown.

I really miss feeling like I am making a difference. Some people might think I have an over-blown sense of myself after reading that sentence. I don't know; maybe I do, maybe I don't. Whatever it is, I know I don't get the same feeling from my current job. I really hope to get back to the same environment some day.