January 8th, 1982

Today I dropped a syringe. I know in retrospect it does not seem like a grand deal. One would imagine that it is a regular occurrence that patients would expect to happen in our care.

God, it is all my fault, and I can never forgive myself nor find salvation in you. But I cannot tell another soul, there is too much riding on this path for me. I thought that it would be easier to check on Mrs. Roberts on my way to give Mr. Salvador his routine injection. Two birds one stone right? But as I reached over Mrs. Roberts to check her heartbeat the shot slipped out of my fingers and dove right into her forearm. Fortunately enough for me she was in a coma, so I quickly took the syringe with me and rushed to Mr. Salvador’s room, pretending to give him the shot as I had no time to grab a new one. He did not know any different, this was his daily bread. I could not risk it. I thought to myself; what is the worst that could happen from this? I promise my intentions were not those of malice.

The most dreadful events followed, that is what happened. Mrs. Roberts went into cardiac arrest within ten minutes, we could not save her. Had I not been so selfish in the first place, I would have remembered why Mrs. Roberts was in a coma in the first place.

Thus we lost Mr. Salvador a few weeks later, to AIDS, the death sentence took over in his already weak state. Two birds one stone has lost all of its irony. The concept of harmlessness will be a stranger everywhere I walk. The Devil will be my only friend. And the guilt will haunt me, casting nightmares as I sleep. I will never dream again. I am sure I am going to hell, for I know now I am a murderer. No amount of repent will save my soul. And saying something now sure as hell will not save me. So I suppose this is farewell, my Lord.