During intern orientation a few months ago, they promised we would never be alone in the hospital. And they were right. Until they weren’t. It’s hard to see colors in the dark — that’s why he looks blue. That’s strange; it almost seems like his chest is not moving. I must be overreacting. Everything is fine. My right hand began flicking his foot. Yell for help. This baby is a healthy newborn. Call a code. Interns ...

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February 14, 2018. It’s the "before." My phone rang, and I stopped breathing as words poured straight from her heart about the most recent school shooting -- Stoneman Douglas High School, where I had nervously walked the halls as a freshman and excitedly watched my sister cheer at football games in Parkland, a boring little town next to my equally boring hometown, as a teenager. Here, I protested the indignity ...

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