“Are you the nurse?” I heard a frail woman ask. I had just entered her room on the internal medicine ward. It was dark. “Yes, I am,” I replied, and gave her my first name. She told me her name was Donna.  “I am hungry,” she said. “I have not had anything to eat or drink in a few days, can you help me?”  I asked her why she hadn’t eaten, and it became quickly apparent she could not swallow well. I heard a soft cough as she talked, and her inability to clear her throat. I saw her dry lips and sunken skin.  Glancing around, I saw the sign that hung above her bed to remind all those who entered the room not to give her anything to eat or drink.  I sat on the edge of her b...