I’ve observed the 4th of July in a lot of places – different states, even different countries – but I’ve never spent the holiday at the hospital. It is quiet here; a skeleton staff is holding things together while most of their colleagues are off for the day (and night). Even the coffee shop is closed.

I’ve got my keys (access to 4 hospitals) and my badge (so I can swipe my way into the Emergency Rooms). The hallways are unusually quiet, but in each room there is a pulse. It might be the pulse of a heartbeat, or a pulse of hope…perhaps both. But it is there.

Most years, I celebrate Independence Day with fireworks – a boisterous community observance. But today it seems more appropriate to send out a hug to those who are waiting and watching and wanting something more personal to celebrate.