Awakening

There were so many admissions that night that I had begun to lose count-and my temper. A seasoned intern, I had learned well the art of the quick, efficient workup. Shortcutting had become a way of life. Morning was coming and, with it, my day off. All I wanted was to be done. My beeper sounded. I answered it. I heard the tired voice of my resident say, “Another hit, some 90-year-old gomer with cancer.” Swearing under my breath, I headed to the room. An elderly man sat quietly in his bed. Acting put upon, I abruptly launched into my programmed litany of questions, not really expecting much in the way of answers. To my surprise, his voice was clear and full and his answers were articulate and concise. In the midst of my memorized review of systems, I asked if he had ever lived or worked outside the country.

“Yes,” he replied. “I lived in Europe …