I do not know her name, yet she is not anonymous. She is the wife of the concerned man downstairs. She is the mother of the concerned woman next to her. “It’s not anything like cancer is it?” I’ve got plenty of living to do you know!”

It almost certainly is something bad like cancer. She has not been eating much over the past few weeks, and I just palpated a very large, firm, irregular abdominal mass. I did not know this woman. Our parallel lives had just crossed temporarily for a few minutes. I do not know her past. I do not know her family. I do not know her likes and dislikes. I do not know what she thought of me, or of the doctor whom I was shadowing for this home visit. Yet I do know what the future is likely to hold for her. She is to be taken to the local hospital where she is likely to receive the crushing news of her imminent death. We are in and out of the house in a few moments. As I leave, only the G.P. and I have any idea of her prognosis. Unknown to her, her sentence awaits her. The G.P. and I know this I feel that we had just surreptitiously sneaked a look at someone else’s crystal ball. While my life appears to carry on as normal, I know that hers is soon to undergo the most tragic of changes. And as our parallel lives diverge again – probably forever- this sad thought hangs heavy on my mind.