“She Just Doesn’t Want to Work,” My Mother Told Her Nursing Staff About My Condition. I Silently Slid My Medical File Across the Table to Her Chief of Medicine. Her Next Shift Was Her Last.

I had not planned to be in the cafeteria at the same time as my mother.

I had come to St. Joseph’s for a follow-up appointment with Dr. Patricia Harrison, my rheumatologist, and the appointment had run long in the thorough way of appointments that are actually doing their job. Bloodwork. Urinalysis. A conversation about medication adjustment that left continue reading …