taking care of his siblings and everyone else, busting his butt through college, and training for eight years to be a cardiac surgeon without complaint. It was all output. I suggested that what he was describing sounded a lot like what happens when the human heart stops working, an example he would certainly understand. “OK,” I said. “Try this analogy. Doesn’t a human heart have four pipes? Two coming in and two coming out?” “Yes . . . kind of, but go ahead,” he said. “So it’s as if you have two clogged veins. You’re always pumping out, giving out, but nothing ever comes in,” I said,
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