‘If I Should Die, Think Only This of Me . . .’

Abstract

Called to consult, I found him bivouacked in a recess of the emergency department. He waited for help and a bed. His thin, drawn features revealed a once-handsome man, his wavy black hair now mixed with gray. Hollowed temples showed that he had lost flesh, accentuating the jawline, full moustache, and rakish beard. The chart detailed his suffering, but he had few words and no complaints. In dignified repose his tired blue eyes turned and asked that I do my best.