I’m squished in an unnaturally upright seat. My elbows slowly develop pressure sores atop rigid armrests, with my wife on one side and a semi-uncomfortable stranger on the other. I stare at my lopsided gray tray table, sporting a Styrofoam cup of lukewarm coffee, the chalice special of Sky Chefs. My ears have become one
A surgeon without health care originally appeared in KevinMD.com.
