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I died three days ago.I never saw it coming. It had been a difficult day at the hospital, shocking even-but when was it ever different? St. Benedicts is one complication after another, especially in my line of work. There are too many patients, too many bureaucrats, and too few happy endings. Midday, I took a long stroll through the childrens ward just to hear the high-pitched voices raised in song or play. Even when there is great pain, the young always seem capable of mustering optimism and innocence, two qualities I see too infrequently."Dr. Thomas, youre pretty.". "Thank you, Jonathan.". "My dad thinks youre pretty, too.". "Im flattered." And I was, genuinely. Compliments are sparse in m...