by S. Collins
The patient hugged me today before she left the room. “I’ve made a patient cry before, but I’ve never had them hug me,” Michelle, my medical assistant, commented as the woman walked away carrying her yellow checkout sheet. But I did not like that the patient hugged me. I did not like seeing her tears, feeling them against my cheek, and knowing she was relying on me to make her better. I can listen to her and give her medicine, but I cannot control her biopsy results. What if I cannot help her?
S. Collins is in the process of applying to medical school and is reviewing all the reasons why she wants to be a doctor.