Irene was a frail elderly woman draped in an oversized turquoise cashmere sweater. Her bright pink lipstick barely concealed her blue lips, which pursed tightly together when she spoke. Her portable oxygen tank rested on the intensive care unit (ICU) floor, gently cradled by her black Gucci bag with a bright yellow inhaler poking out a side pocket. Nasal cannula oxygen tubing looped over her ears with prongs tucked gently in her nose. We stood together in the ICU at her mother's bedside. "I'm the palliative care doctor and I'm here to see your mom." I said. "The ICU team asked me to come. You're mom is in a coma on a life support machine."
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