My uncle died last year. As physicians, we are all too familiar with death. Even if we are practicing primary care, we are touched by death and the line between life and death. That patient who had what statistically should’ve been acid reflux, but who you found to have stomach cancer. That breastfeeding mom who thought a little lump was a clogged milk duct, when it actually turned out to ...

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“OK, it is time to move on,” my professor claps his hands together and yells above the chatter.  We all look up from our Netter’s anatomy books and our cadavers.  The smell of formaldehyde burns my nose as the fluorescent lights flicker above. “We have explored the chest cavity and the abdominal cavity.  It is now time to move onto the extremities, starting with the arms.  I want you to unwrap ...

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The day I got into medical school, my uncle said to me, “You are going to be a doctor!  We finally have a doctor in the family.  You are going to take care of your uncle in his old age.”  Other family members echoed the same sentiment.  First doctor in the family.  Now, we will all have free medical advice. As I progressed through medical school, then internship and residency, then ...

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