They Thought I Had a “Little Medical Job”—Until My Name on the Hospital Wing Came Up at Dinner

that my decisions had drawn the line between life and death more times than I could count—was too vast for this table, too real for a room that smelled of expensive wine and carefully curated success.

That truth lived elsewhere. In operating rooms and consultation suites, in the quiet moment before surgery when I placed my hand on a draped form and continue reading …