Last and First Days
Was it a fall? Did I miss the last step? These things I cannot recall / Hidden from sight, the blood crept from one lone vessel and began to compress / Nice to meet you, one medical student said, as he unzipped my sheath
Author: Sal Aiello
Contributing Writer
Chicago Medical School at Rosalind Franklin University of Medicine and Science
Sal is an M1 at Chicago Medical School where he also serves as the Benevolent Overload of The Medical Humanities Club. In his spare time he works in the Resuscitation Institute at the University.
A soccer coach once told Sal, "you are pretty agile for your body type." The description was overwhelmingly accurate.
Reflection Through Mask-Making
On a December night in a northern suburb of Chicago, the weather outside dipped into single digits with a sub-zero wind-chill. Safely situated indoors, a group of medical students wandered into a classroom where five tables were covered by plastic tarps with another laden with pipe cleaners, acrylic paint and brushes, and a stack of blank masks. Licking the emotional wounds left by a sleep-deprived exam week that ended only three days prior, the students eyed the art supplies. They were hopeful for a means for reconcile their psyche tattered by cold and a semester of school.
Contributing Writer
Chicago Medical School at Rosalind Franklin University of Medicine and Science
Sal is an M1 at Chicago Medical School where he also serves as the Benevolent Overload of The Medical Humanities Club. In his spare time he works in the Resuscitation Institute at the University.
A soccer coach once told Sal, "you are pretty agile for your body type." The description was overwhelmingly accurate.