![]() I was hyperaware of my surroundings, as if I were a first-time visitor in my own hospital. When I told him Ruth had felt a lump, he had made room to see us right away. ![]() ![]() Hiram (Chip) Cody, a breast cancer surgeon and my fellow physician for more than a decade at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center in New York. My wife, Ruth, and I arrived in the clinic of my colleague Dr. on a sunny and crisp Wednesday in October when I became one. But in all those years I didn’t have one class on how to be a patient, never mind how to be the Residency training, with its harsh hours and unrelenting pace, added several more layers of protective shellac. The coat on, you could get right up close to frailty, even touch it, and it wouldn’t be able to reach out and pull you in. My professors also taught me, implicitly, how to put on the white doctor coat as a shield against human vulnerability. As a medical student 20 years ago, I learned all about anatomy, physiology and pharmacology.
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