They are the only ones who hit me. I am the only one who hugs them. Seven confused patients with lost smiles and droopy eyes like prisoners. Seven who want to go home but are home. Seven sad citizens admitted by their families. From the break room, I can hear them, but the nurses say to ignore it.

Their hope is hidden. They hide their loving passion beneath their disease. They lose themselves and lose their family and take out their worries between their filthy hands and bite our arms with dangerous denchers and never quit from fear. This is how they cope.

Let one give up his reason for living, they’d sleep forever like bears in hibernation, each with themselves, without any love. Wake, wake, wake I say when they sleep. They scream.

When I am too hurt and too exhausted to keep working, when I am one nursing assistant against so many illnesses, then it is I look at patients. When there is no one left to help in the nursing home. Seven who wonder despite a reason. Seven who fight and do not forget to fight. Seven whose only reason to be is forgotten.