What Might Have Been
By Nana Dadzie Ghansah
I was securing the arterial line I had just placed in her left radial artery when I heard her singing quietly under her breathe. It piqued my interest, so I listened closer. She was singing along with the song playing on the station we had playing in the operating room.
I looked at her emaciated face half-covered by a mask and stated, “You must love that song.”