He survived — not unscarred, but alive. Outside the intensive care unit, I told his parents the news. His mother thanked me through tears, and I carried that gratitude with me for years, believing that chapter of my life was closed.
Time moved on the way it always does. I built a career, became the surgeon others called when the stakes were highest, and let personal dreams fall quietly to the side. Then, twenty years later, after a long overnight shift, life folded in on itself.
Continue reading…
