The comfort of colleagues: a story of love and loss in palliative care
“I just can’t. I can’t,” Wendy sobbed into my hair. We barely made it out the door when our bodies collapsed together, puddles holding puddles. The children, 5 and 7, had just left with their tiny grey backpacks, tiny soldiers off to the abyss. Pastel crayon drawings taped to every pale pink wall: “Mom! Get well soon!” But she wouldn’t. Rainbows and stick figures clung to the white paper on …







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