I stepped out of our room with the video camera. He looked up at me and rolled his eyes before I even had a chance to say anything. He hadn't been too thrilled with my project since our road trip and he acted pretty much the same every time I took the camera out now. Pissed off.

I shook my head at him and set it on shelf. "It's not for you," I said reassuring him as I walked over to put my shoes on.

He looked at me and nodded.

"I'm sorry babe, it's just... well you've been filming with that thing for weeks now. Don't you think you have enough?"

I shook my head. I wouldn't have enough for a long, long time. Judging by the look on his face I just had to hope he didn't kill me before this project was finished.

"You'll know when I'm done." I said, not so much because he needed an answer but more because I felt like giving one. I grabbed my keys off the table and started to walk over to grab the camera.

"Where are you going?" He sounded interested, not uncaring. I had a feeling before I answered though that I knew where this was headed.

"I'm going to work." It should have been obvious what with the nursing scrubs I was wearing.

"Work?"

"Yeah work Aje..." I said knowing exactly where the conversation was turning now. "It's a novel idea you should try it sometime." Ouch. I knew I shouldn't have said it but it was too late. The words slipped out of my mouth before I took the time to think about them. He looked at me and started to say something but bit his tongue instead.

'Lucky for him,' I thought... 'I'm so not in the mood for this argument today'.

Truthfully I was never in the mood for that argument and it was one we frequently had. Aj didn't understand why I kept my job. He said he made plenty of money for the both of us and he'd wanted me to quit my job so that I could go on tour with him. I'd tried it once, in an honest effort to support him, I really had... but the fact was, I liked my job. I liked working, I liked making my own money and I liked not being completely dependent upon someone else. So shoot me.

The argument, which we had often, was pretty repetitive. I would wake up in the morning to go to work and he would ask me what I was doing. I'd say 'going to work captain obvious,' and he'd roll his eyes, or scoff or do any number of other things to piss me off or hurt my feelings. I didn't think he really meant it... at least I hoped he never really meant it... but I wasn't about to give up something I loved so much simply because he made enough money for me to do so.

"Are you taking the camera with you?" He asked me obviously giving up on the argument early this time around.

"Planning on it." I had already asked permission from some of the patients and families and I'd chosen today to take the camera with me and film some of their new year's resolutions.

"You work at a children's hospital with dying kids... why would you want to film something like that?"

I rolled my eyes, that one really took the cake.

"First of all," I said grabbing the camera off the shelf, "I work in a children's hospital with LIVING kids!" (I, like many of my coworkers hated the word 'dying'), "and secondly," I said it as I headed for the door, "I think you'd be surprised at the kind of things these children have to say!"

He backed down, very quickly. "I wasn't saying... I just... oh hell nevermind."

"No AJ. I know exactly what you were saying."

I knew. Honestly it wasn't the question that bothered me... a lot of people would wonder that same thing. It was the way he said it. It was always the way he said it.

He just shook his head. "I guess I'll never understand how you do that job. I mean you don't talk about it."

I knew he was trying to weasel his way out of the argument. I decided to let it slide this time. Maybe I could at least talk to him and make him understand a little bit. I sat down beside him on the couch and put my hand on his knee. "AJ," I said as he looked up at me, "I never asked you to understand my job, just to accept the fact that I love my job and that I do my job. And I don't talk about it because it's kind of the written rule in the medical profession that you don't bring your work home with you. If I talked about it... about every heartbreak and every sick child and every child who eventually died... I'd be depressed all of the time."

He nodded. Maybe he was starting to understand. At that point I didn't really care.

"I can't imagine getting attached to all those kids." He said.

It was my turn to nod. "It's not easy Alex. I still remember every name of every child who ever died in my care. I've been there 6 years now and I've lost 21 children. I still remember every single one of them."

He looked at me curiously, "Seriously?"

"Seriously." I sighed and stared down at my purse. Maybe now was the time to share it with him. "Would you like to hear about a few?"

"Uh... yeah I guess." I never talked about my job so he understandably seemed a little shocked. I glanced up at the clock and realized I had a good 20 minutes til I really had to leave. I sat the camera down on the coffee table and stayed seated beside him. I grabbed my purse and pulled out a picture book. They were pictures that families had given me over the years... photos of the children, photos of me with the children, all very priceless memories.

"That's Christi," I said pointing to the first photo as I opened the album.

"She's cute." He smiled as he looked at the photo.

"Yeah..." I nodded. "she was cute." He looked up when I said it and back down at the photo again with a disheartened frown.

"Christi was 9 years old." I explained as I looked at the photo of one of my most beloved patients. She died from neuroblastoma almost 2 years ago. Neuroblastoma is the deadliest of all childhood cancers. She lived with her disease for 5 long years before she finally won her battle."

"Wow" he said looking down at the picture again. "Wait... you said 'won' her battle."

"I did," I answered looking down at the picture and running my fingers across it, "Cancer can't win Aje... life or death the patient wins no matter what."

He nodded as if he understood.

I flipped the book and did the same for each photo until I reached the last, a beautiful bald-headed girl. I smiled. "Rachel was 8 years old, she had Ewings Sarcoma and I took care of her during 32 separate hospital stays."

I heard him sniff next to me and I took his hand in mine. I felt my eyes filling with tears but I held them back... I was used to holding them back.

"She died three weeks ago when I was out of town."

He looked over at me again and noted my tears. He put his arm around me and pulled me into a kiss. "I'm sorry baby."

We sat in silence for a few moments, before I asked, "Do you understand why I don't want to give this up now?"

He nodded.

I really hoped he did.