How the stories of refugees affected this medical student
If I hadn’t heard her sob, I might not have looked up. I was so immersed in her story, and so fixated on my own studious note-taking, that I didn’t doubt the steady rhythm of her voice until I heard it break. Huda’s (name changed) eyes were filling with tears, and I quickly handed over the tissue box, feeling that its trifling weight was an apt metaphor for how little …
How the stories of refugees affected this medical student




















