When my patients cared for me
As my patient’s face slowly became visible on the computer screen, I smiled and waved to her. She waved back with vigor.
She was a Cuban housekeeper who arrived in Miami during the Mariel boatlift in 1980. Now in her mid-60s, she had recently been diagnosed with leukemia and endured a two-month hospitalization during which her bone marrow grudgingly entered a remission, following an onslaught of chemotherapy. She was now back …
