Hobson's Choice

Hobson’s Choice





The bright morning sun is shining on her as she sits in bed clutching her husband’s hand.

She looks up at me as if I’m God.

I’m not.

He asks, “What did the biopsy show, Doc?

Unless he’s blind, he knows the answer.

I know this disease, but can I share all my insights?

I can’t. It’s impossible.

Can I be fair and objective and should I try?

I can’t.

Her illness entraps us.

Evasion’s off the table.

God won’t make the decision, I will.

Doing the best I can isn’t nearly enough.

It’s all there is.