Browse by Tag: Scott Janssen

Heightened Awareness

No power-down switch to arrest That incessant activity of the mind and senses Not even for our wedding anniversary Getaway. At the airport my eyes reflexively dart From the cashier’s cheery smile to fix on her arm Laid bare by her Dunkin’ Donuts uniform And the glaring track-mark trail As she carefully hands me my scalding hot coffee. On board American Airlines my ears instinctively pinpoint That paroxysmal brassy cough of the man in seat

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Fan FavoriteNEW 

I was a third-year medical student, doing my internal-medicine rotation in a large regional teaching hospital. “We have a new admit that I want you to pick up,” my team’s senior resident told me on my third day. “Mr. Ngo is a seventy-one-year-old man with congestive heart failure. He came into the ER with worsening shortness of breath and edema.” I read Mr. Ngo’s chart and went to his hospital room. He sat on the

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Phototherapy

About the Artwork It is a long established fact that a reader will be distracted by the readable content of a page when looking at its layout. The point of using Lorem Ipsum is that it has a more-or-less normal distribution of letters, as opposed to using ‘Content here, content here’, making it look like readable English. Many desktop publishing packages and web page editors now use Lorem Ipsum as their default model text, and

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Together through the Rainbow Bridge

It is a long established fact that a reader will be distracted by the readable content of a page when looking at its layout. The point of using Lorem Ipsum is that it has a more-or-less normal distribution of letters, as opposed to using ‘Content here, content here’, making it look like readable English. Many desktop publishing packages and web page editors now use Lorem Ipsum as their default model text, and a search for

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A Soldier’s Tale

“You ever work with vets?” asks the young man sitting across from me in the hospital waiting room.

He’s been sitting there all morning. So have I. Since 5:30 am, my father-in-law, age eighty-eight, has been undergoing surgery to remove a tumor in his lung. The surgeons just sent word that they’ve finished, and my wife and her mother have gone to the post-op room to see him.

Waiting for them to return, my wife’s sister and I have been talking about her son, who’s thinking of joining the Air Force.

“Warn him about the recruiters and their shiny promises,” I say. “Tell him they’re all a bunch of liars.”

“That’s for damn sure,” the man says.

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