To paraphrase the writer Viet Thanh Nguyen, the death of each of my patients is lived twice: once in current time and once in memory. Some of my memories of patients are intensely vivid, as if they were shot in high-definition video. Other memories are blurry because I must have subconsciously deleted or altered them. I do remember their faces. And, the faces of family members, especially that “look of waiting.â€