The hidden challenge of medicine: The art of sharing bad news
My alarm went off at 4 a.m. in the morning. I begrudgingly pulled myself out of bed, threw on some scrubs, and headed to the hospital. Not a car was on the road. It was the third week of my OB/GYN rotation, and I was on the infamous gynecologic oncology service. Rounding begins at 6 a.m. sharp, and I needed to first check in on my post-op patient from the day before. She had undergone an extensive bowel resection for metastatic ovarian cancer and I knew her prognosis was grim.
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