Medical school didn’t teach me how to fix a patient’s broken heart
It was the first warm day of spring as I walked into the assisted-living facility for what would be the last time. I was on my way to Larry’s room, the resident of the facility that I had been paired with, when I was stopped by my group leader. “I have some terrible news,” he said. “Larry’s wife was moved to another facility — her dementia has worsened since our …
