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PASSION IN THE OR

I stood and watched as the cart rolled through the wide double doors into Operating Room 1. It was my first day of shadowing a pediatric neurosurgeon and, as I waited for the doctor to enter, I tapped my feet to the rhythm of an invisible beat and wrung my gloved hands behind my scrubs-covered back. A young boy with short-cropped brown hair lie propped against the pillows; his back straightened as he entered and he looked around with a gleam in his wide blue eyes. He clutched the edges of his blanket as he looked about the white room. Glancing at each person in turn, the boy tilted his head as he passed by me.


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