I could not save this life with every possible medical tool at my disposal
An excerpt from The Healer's Burden: Stories and Poems of Professional Grief. Leaning on the door of Trauma Bay 1, I survey the remains of my latest failure. The story is told in the bloody and jumbled instrument trays, monitors…
An excerpt from The Healer’s Burden: Stories and Poems of Professional Grief.
Leaning on the door of Trauma Bay 1, I survey the remains of my latest failure. The story is told in the bloody and jumbled instrument trays, monitors now silent and dark. In the center of the room sits a gurney covered with a white sheet and an unmistakable human form. Blood radiates
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I could not save this life with every possible medical tool at my disposal
