the hospital was alive, pulsing with the smell of disinfectant, the sound of hushed tones and unguarded laughter, and the feel of unending possibilities. I loved this, the feeling of absolute and eternal optimism, the feeling that no matter how bad or no matter how dire the circumstances or predictions, that until death has been declared and the sheet rolled up over the patient’s eyes, that even beyond the flatline, anything is possible. Beneath the undercurrent of even the direst predictions, hope lives here. It creeps along the corridors, hangs from every corner of every room, and speeds
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