The Overhead Page

Jen* is fit, in her late thirties, and she’s in a wheelchair. I’ve seen her x-rays from the day before and I’m surprised she’s able

It’s the dinner hour, and things are settling. I’ve just discharged a kid with a cough and there are no patients to be seen. For

I have to tilt the rear view mirror downward before I can see him. He’s eight, but still in his booster seat because like me,

“I had this great case,” I tell Brian. He smiles gently. Nods. This is as excited as he gets. Brian knows everything. He’s not a

I don’t have a little brother. I do, however, have a cousin, three-years my junior.  Throughout the eighties, my brother and I spent our summers

The machine running in my kitchen sounds like a jackhammer. I don’t want to be anywhere near it, and more importantly, I don’t want my