Moles When I was in my early, early twenties I volunteered at Bellevue Hospital in New York City. I can't even remember what my duties were. What I do remember was that I was taken into a room by a nurse to where a man lay in bed. He was beautiful. His head lolled to the right. He was perhaps no older than 25. His eyes were brown, clear, glassy and failed to focus. You could say he was handsome too. He had no muscle tone; no chest or arm muscle definition. In reality he was a blob. He had a lipstick circumference sized mole on his chest just below his left nipple. The nurse pointed to the mole and said: That is why he is here. I said: I don't understand. She said: His parents thought his mole was ugly and needed to be removed. He got too much/too little anesthesia during surgery and has been brain dead and in this bed for 7 years. I stared at the mole and wondered what light it had been seen under that made that risk worthwhile. We are all beautiful as we are. That mole, th...
mostly gentle, sometimes turbulent