The doctor sprinted to the side of the bed and slapped her interlaced hands over the man’s heart. What made his heart stop remained a mystery, but she knew she had to get it beating again. She pushed her hands into his chest, an internal metronome pacing her efforts. After every few pumps, she glanced up at the cardiac monitor. Still no pulse.
“Well, it’s obvious why he’s dying, isn’t it?” …
All actors should have to take a CPR class
“This is our sickest patient,” my co-intern began as she told me about one of her patients I would care for overnight. It was my first week of intern year, and I was assigned the overnight cross-cover shift for a busy cardiology service. Introducing myself as “Dr. Tredway” still rolled awkwardly off my tongue, but I had grown more comfortable throughout the week in my new role as a physician. …
Medical treatment has its limits. Empathy does not.
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