As I'm putting an IV into an elderly gentleman and drawing blood, I'm making small talk with him. I switch from the vacutainer to the luer lock and flush, and a bit of blood dribbles out before I can attach it. A few drops drip onto his hospital gown. "I'm sorry about that," I say.
"It's okay, it's just a little blood," he replies, "nothing I haven't seen before."
"Were you in the medical field?" I ask, curiously.
"Oh no," he says. "I was at Omaha Beach."
All I could say to him was thank you. Our worst day in the ER is nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to what those who fight have seen. Especially those who fought at D-Day.