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Getting into medical school was easy. The hard part was staying out of jail. Third year medical student Raj Mok is excited about starting his clinical rotations. Finally, he'll be taking care of real patients instead of just reading about diagnoses and treatments in his countless medical tomes. Unfortunately, Raj quickly learns that patients don't behave like his beloved books led him to believe. The death of his very first patient is a shock. She never even had a chance at life. Raj's second patient, Duane-a young professional-enters the hospital with a benign kidney condition, but only one person knows the truth about why he never left. Meanwhile his third patient, a crotchety nonagenarian who happens to be Duane's neighbor, leaves the hospital just as she arrived, only with a few new stents after her third heart attack. Proving bad things happen to good people in medicine. Discouraged and contemplating a change in careers, Raj is elated when his fourth patient, a surgeon himself, defeats cancer thanks to a heroic operation. While his career as a surgeon is over, his quality of life reaches new heights. When his sixth patient destroys the life of his love interest, Raj quickly learns that doctors make very good executioners; the autopsy even confirms no signs of foul play. Patients five and seven ... you just have to read about them to believe it. The most outrageous patients of the year teach Raj that medicine isn't always about healing and that killing isn't always murder.
was that I failed to see any recovery; in fact if it wasn’t for the monitors informing me she wasn’t dead, I’d have thought her ready for transfer to the morgue. As I turned to leave I heard her whisper what sounded like, “Abigail.” I was going to ask Bernard about it, but got distracted when my pager went off. It was the nursing station. Instead of calling, I just walked up and asked for who paged me. It was a very young nurse, who I wondered if was even old enough to vote. She still had that
the infectious diseases committee about this infection since such a definite link was apparent, clearly implying that heads were sure to roll. She didn’t go in to see Duane in an effort to minimize the risk of contaminating others given his active infection. Maude was on autopilot and the cardiologist said she could go home in 2–3 days if all went well. Given her advanced age, he wanted to keep her for observation a little longer than normal. Fortunately, Duane was also doing well. That same
door through which he entered completely close before the other door unlocked and could be opened. Had I let the outer door close behind us, he’d have been able to exit and follow us in his rage. The charge nurse saw what transpired and immediately called security. Two officers and Jack materialized within seconds and we explained to them what had just transpired. The security officers called for backup and conferred with Jack about what to do. “Yeah, we’ll need to let the attending know, but I
supremely wealthy. Time was money, and J was more than ready to get down to business. “Why don’t you just use the bathroom here, J, so we can get started right away,” instructed Peter, with a glazed look on his face, like a puppy dog ready to pounce on a long-awaited treat. “Sure thing, Boss.” J entered the bathroom, which was about half the size of his current apartment. He placed his valise on the ample countertop and removed his supplies. His abdomen was starting to get a little more tender,
resistant strain of Tuberculosis, Kaposi’s Sarcoma on his chest and back, microsporidial diarrhea, severe cachexia from AIDS wasting syndrome, and florid onychomycosis.” Wow, I managed that all in one breath and sounded somewhat organized. “He continues to do poorly, failing to thrive and barely communicating. His PICC line was recently infected and required replacement by radiology due to poor vascular access. He cannot take in oral food or liquids; thus, he is being given total parenteral