She was there with her partner, another young gal anxiously holding her hand. A foot was tapping as I walked into the room.
Only a year younger than me. The gyn-oncologist started to speak. Telling them that her cancer had returned. I stayed in the background, just a mere resident, trying to absorb how to break bad news.
Tears filled her eyes. She asked about treatments. Her partner just squeezed her hand even harder, unable to talk. She wondered about her child.
A few months later, I'm on weekend call for gyn-onc. She's in-house with a bowel obstruction. Hospice is consulted.
I read her obit later that month.