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Show 152 He is shaking his head. "No, I can't do that," he is saying. "Dr. Jessop is your doctor." "But I don't want him to be my doctor," I am pleading. "He won't do the protocol and I have to stay here forever!" I can hear the emotion in my voice and hope it is not being translated as drama. "I can't be your doctor," he is saying. "It's just not done." He is turning to leave. The conversation is ended. The door is snuffling the frame in its muted closing. I do not understand teaching hospitals. I do not understand the hierarchy, the powers, the correct etiquette. I only know that as much as Dr. Jessop has helped me, he has also hurt me. And I want it to stop. It appears, however, that it shall be a wish unfulfilled. I am looking around the room at the sameness. Same wallpaper. Same TV. Same cold breakfast on the same bedside table. Same window with the same view. Same defensiveness. Same invasive procedures. Same long hospital stay. Hope has gone. |