Microcosm: A Routine Visit in Primary Care
The old woman with long silver hair sat in her wheelchair, feet propped slightly up, smiling toothless among her layers of wrinkles. She waited for me to speak, deferring her decades of matriarchy and adulthood to the stethoscope I wore so casually after just months of earnest experience. Indeed, it sat lightly on my neck today but heavily on my heart. A few more seconds passed, as I contemplated how exactly I wanted to discuss her test results and how exactly I would ask her to proceed.