Author: Dennis Ritchie

If the Ghost of Christmas Past had taken my hand and led me out the hospital window to a holiday dinner in my childhood, I would have been no less unprepared than I was for morning. The freezing walk from the parking lot to the...

The shock of Dr. Raefsky’s statement resonated like a flash-bang grenade through the night and into the next day. We were numb. Thinking was difficult. Unfortunately, as the pieces fell into place things looked even worse. We...

“I want you to know that your situation is not entirely hopeless,” Dr. Raefsky repeated to me. “I don’t understand,” I began, trying to get a handle on what he was saying. He looked away from me to Suzie. I was suddenly a...