As A Nurse I Was Assigned To Treat The Woman Who Made My Teenage Years Miserable

asking me how I was doing in the particular way that means more than the surface of the question. It felt, somehow, like the wrong kind of information to carry into a professional space. Like an admission that I hadn’t fully contained what I was supposed to have contained. High school pain should expire. I was forty-one years old. I had three children continue reading …