Six Pairs of Thick Gray Socks Saved My White House on Elm Street

a deep sense of gratitude that went beyond the simple medical advice he had given me. He had listened to me when everyone else was trying to speak over me.

“Have a good evening, Doctor,” I said.

“You too, Martha,” he said, picking up his fountain pen once more.

The sun was beginning to slip behind the gray hills when the taxi dropped me at the gates of continue reading …