The erosion of compassion in medicine
With my first thrust on his chest, I shattered his sternum, feeling his bones crumble in my hands. His eyes were wide open but lifeless. Dried secretions crusted his lips. His dusky skin tone indicated my efforts would be futile. Nonetheless, I proceeded with cardiopulmonary resuscitation as I was trained to do.
Soon the room was bustling with medical residents and nurses. A controlled chaos ensued. We inserted a breathing tube …
