2019
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A woman is caught in a gripping moral dilemma that resonates far beyond her place in time and history in #1 New York Times bestseller Jodi Picoult's latest. A woman and her husband admitted to a hospital to have a baby requests that their nurse be reassigned - they are white supremacists and don't want Ruth, who is black, to touch their baby. The hospital complies, but the baby later goes into cardiac distress when Ruth is on duty. She hesitates before rushing in to perform CPR. When her indecision ends in tragedy, Ruth finds herself on trial, represented by a white public defender who warns against bringing race into a courtroom. As the two come to develop a truer understanding of each other's lives, they begin to doubt the beliefs they each hold most dear.
Forlag Ballantine Books
Utgivelsesår 2017
Format Heftet
ISBN13 9780425286029
EAN 9780425286029
Omtalt sted Connecticut
Språk Engelsk
Sider 544
Utgave 1
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En tankevekkende god og god bok om rasediskriminering i dagtidens USA. Dessverre fremdeles aktuelt. Ruth er en svart kvinne som har jobbet som fødselssykepleier i 20 år. En dag blir hun anklaget for drap på et spedbarn av en hvit mann, som av "rasehensyn" har nektet henne å ta hånd om barnet hans, noe som sykehusets ledelse godkjenner..... Ruth står derfor i et forferdelig dilemma; gjøre jobben sin, eller ikke å følge sykehusledelsens ordre.....
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Start en diskusjon om verket Se alle diskusjoner om verketIf I cannot do great things, I can do small things in a great way.
The piano keys are black and white but they sound like
a million colors in your mind.
In the middle of a crisis, time is viscous. You swim through it so slowly you cannot tell if you're living or reliving each awful moment. You can see your hands doing the work, ministering, as if they do not belong to you. You hear voices climbing a ladder of panic, and it all becomes one deafening, discordant note.
Babies are such blank slates. They don't come into this world with the assumptions their parents have made, or the promises their church will give, or the ability to sort people into groups they like and don't like. They don't come into this world with anything, really, except a need for comfort. And they will take it from anyone, without judging the giver.
Freedom is the fragile neck of a daffodil, after the longest of winters. It's the sound of your voice, without anyone drowning you out. It's having the grace to say yes, and more important, the right to say no. At the heart of freedom, hope beats: a pulse of possibility.
Plutselig blir jeg så ufattelig trøtt. Det er ikke bare tempoet på jobben eller det overveldende høye antall saker jeg har som sliter meg ut. Det er det at jeg lurer på om noe av det jeg gjør, faktisk betyr noe.
When you are a nurse, you know better than most anyone else that life goes on. There are good days and there are bad days. There are patients who stay with you, and those you can't wait to forget. But there is always another mother in labor, or delivering, who drives you forward. There is always a new crop of tiny humans who haven't even written the first sentence in the story of their lives. The process of birth is such an assembly line, in fact, that it always surprises me when I am forced to stop and look twice - like when a baby I helped deliver seemingly yesterday is suddenly my patient, about to have her own child.