We came out of that meeting, my preceptor, the nurse, the patient and myself.
“Well, that went well didn’t it?” my preceptor chirped, as soon as we were out of earshot to the patient.
I found my words, meant to be inner thoughts, slipping into my speech. “You have got to be kidding me. Were we in the same place?”
He was taken aback, and look to the nurse for reassurance. She emulated my exasperated face and said, “She’s right.”
“But she consented!”
Once again, the stark words came out. “She consented? Did she? Did you really think she consented?”
He shot another helpless gaze towards the nurse, who, to my relief said, “No, that was not consent.”