A Patient's Birthday I Forgot

I'm a nurse and I've worked here long enough to know everyone's quirks and routines. Last week was a particularly tough shift in the ICU, but what got me thinking wasn't the chaos of that day, it was one simple oversight: I forgot to wish Mr. Jenkins happy birthday. Mr. Jenkins is always the first person I see when I clock into work; his room is just down the hall from the nurses' station. He's such a kind soul, always grateful for even small things and willing to share stories about his life before illness. His birthday falls in April, right between tax season and all the end-of-quarter madness that fills our hospital. But this year, my mind was too consumed by everything else. It hit me days later when I saw a card on the bulletin board for a staff member's child’s birthday party. The reminder made me feel so guilty. Sure, it doesn't sound like much, but Mr. Jenkins looked at me with such trust and expectation last month. Now, there's this tiny weight in my chest, thinking he might think I don't care about him. Sometimes the little things make all the difference.