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Abstract

I am told I am part of the house staff. I am told I am a resident. I am told my predecessors, who are now my teachers, earned the title of resident by residing at their place of work, which was also their place of passion, which was the hospital, that institution that, with the advent of the industrial revolution, came to be a producer of health, a fixer of bodies. I am also now told that we residents are increasingly the sort of thing that can burn out. The other thing I know that can burn out - when it burns out, crashes, and goes up in a flame. Perhaps the hospital is an institution whose risks outweigh the benefits. Generally, flames are to avoided.

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