| OCR Text |
Show 83 "I'm sorry," the resident is saying as he pats down the tape. I am now understanding that it was his hands, and not the intern's, that punctured my lung. "I'll be OK," I am whispering, "Don't worry about it." They are leaving and as I watch the intern make her way up the hallway I see her turn and we both wave. That she is here from Florida and is learning to be a doctor and that I am here from Oregon and am a patient are all moot points - we are both from the same community of those having disability. Each understands at a glance something of the trials of the other. I am breathing easier. |
