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No Compassion?


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The day my mother was transferred from a nursing home to a hospice, I raced from Baltimore to northeastern Pennsylvania. This 80-mph excursion into death -- my mother's death -- might rescue me from whatever boredom and tedium had enveloped me, but it would also plunge me into a realm where I didn't necessarily relish going. But go I went. For you see, there was no choice.

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