The fault in our stars (警告：剧透。如果你打算读这本小说，请勿点击）

When I turned the first two pages, I knew the main characters were going to die.

That's how it happens in real life. Metastasized cancers rarely cure themselves.

But this was a fictional world, so may be it would be different. May be there would be a miracle. At least I hoped for one, but I was wrong. There was no miracle. Death was inevitable.

"The world is not a wish granting factory". So as the author put it.

Even as I mentally prepared myself for the inevitable death, when it hit, I couldn't stop crying. Sadness was like a mountain. Weighing down.

I didn't have sixteen years old cancer patients. The ones I ever had were all 40 years and above. They came in for different reasons, pancreatic cancer, testicular cancer, breast cancer, kidney failure, liver cirrhosis, heart failure... etc etc. now an increasing number of them came in for shortness of breath. Somehow, through Augustus Waters and Hazel Grace Lancaster, I see the psychological tracts of my patients. The emotional roller coasters of suffering.

Death were the extremes, but I wonder if pain all felt the same. What was my role in it? Or what is my role in it? Am I capable of easing their sufferings? Can I be this person they are expecting at the bedside, nearing the end of their lives? I am not a doctor. I say to myself. I am a nurse. But what is a nurse's role in it? In this pandemic where panic is tangible, and death is real for the unfortunate? The second wave is surging. I have no answers. I can only hope to be the person I can be. At least hold my own pieces together.