This patient didn’t want my care because of how I looked
Brooklyn, New York, Spring of 1992. As I looked out of the New York City taxi window on Avenue T, I saw the building. It had always appeared to me as the most magnificent building I had ever seen that housed people in need of rehabilitative care. I was happy; I was ready, I was in great spirit. “Let’s do this!,” I thought to myself as I stepped out of …




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