Through the Eyes of a Medical Oncologist
Sand water slips through gnarled fingers. On perfect tiny toes, a small castle rises. No windows or doors, the frail construction covers pure skin, runs up shin, touches knee. In the seashore heat, it would dry. There is no time....
…is it giving up?
…he cried for hours and hours.
…we get it wrong much of the time
I sprained my elbow, patting my back.
Life Lessons Grown from 25 Years of Serving Patients and Families