He Missed My Surgery When I Needed Him Most—What the Surgeon Handed Me Wasn’t From Him

and shaking. “You’re stressed,” he’d said, not even looking up from his laptop. “Maybe see a therapist.” When I’d persisted, his response had been colder: “This anxiety thing is getting old, Christina.”

His mother had been worse. “Some women just dramatize everything,” she’d told him over Sunday dinner while I sat right there, fork halfway to my mouth,continue reading …