My patient Betsy Lewis has found the balance in which we neither welcome death nor push it away – and still celebrates her life while she can
I can remember many things about the afternoon I told Betsy that she had stage IV lung cancer.
I can still see how the single ray of sunshine from the skylight in the atrium behind us entered the crack between the curtains in her hospital room, shooting right through the crystalline IV bag hanging from the pole next to her, turning it into a depressing sort of disco ball.
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