“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.

just didn’t want to get better is now writing a chapter on the gap between what we document and what our patients actually live through.

She will not say my name in the chapter. But I will know it is there.

That is enough.