Sometimes, the very best medicine is a listening ear
I was a first-year medical student, starting my first afternoon at an outpatient clinic as part of an introductory course in clinical medicine. My white coat was freshly washed; I had a rainbow of pens in one coat pocket, and my shiny name tag dangled from the other. I only hoped that I was as prepared as I looked.
I entered Mrs. Carr’s room. A fifty-five-year-old woman, she sat gingerly at …
