The first time I cried as a doctor was in residency.
I was taking care of a patient who had terminal lung cancer. The first time I met him, his wife was at his bedside. The couple displayed such a positive outlook on life and seemed to have accepted the poor prognosis.
He was one of the first cancer patients I took care of. Being a cancer survivor myself, I felt a close connection to him and his family. We all knew he did not have much time, but were contending the realism with unrealistic hope.
One morning, I went to his room. His wife was by his side holding his hand. He was not very responsive, but a strange calmness surrounded him.
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