eleven years

I have no heartwarming, baby-bird-falls-out-of-tree story to tell. I just remember what it felt like putting that Toy Story band-aid on Ms. Trina’s little boy. Life hurts. I think all we can do is make it hurt a little bit less.

Over the years, I’ve seen too many cancer patients and heard too many last words over a hospital bed to believe in destiny. But on the days when the results come back negative, and the bald, little warrior is triumphant, it’s nice to think that maybe the universe put that M.D. after my name for a reason.