Contributing Writer
Florida International University Herbert Wertheim College of Medicine
Rakan Alshaibi is a medical student at FIU Herbert Wertheim College of Medicine in Miami, Florida, Class of 2026. In 2022, he graduated from the University of Florida with a Bachelor of Science in microbiology and cell sciences. He enjoys writing, jump roping, and watching soccer matches in his free time. Rakan is yet to decide on a career in medicine, but is passionate about global surgery and health equity.
I am moving, yet I am going nowhere. I am going nowhere, yet I have come a long way. I do not count how many go by, but each spin demands that I keep moving. With every rotation, I take another step, another leap, one jump on this Earth. These cycles fly by, so much so that I can almost hear them as they whoosh over my head in an instant, making seconds go slow.
I start the day like most of us do: stimulating the needy vessels we call bodies with caffeine. As I open up my coffee jar to dispense ground Turkish coffee beans, I am met with a hint of loving bitterness. It carries a comforting brown sugar warmth that often stirs a sense of weakness given my inherent dependency on this substance but also commands secure boldness through notes of molasses and dark chocolate.
I expect the attending to leave the room after ripping off her gloves and gown. Instead she grabs a clean towel and gently wipes the patient’s forehead with the soft tenderness of a mother. I decide that this is the kind of doctor I want to be.
I quickly realized, they allow the inner recesses of my soul to connect with my imagination, together spewing forth a wonderful concoction of syllables, metaphors and outright madness on dozens of sticky notes
Notes must be written, and labs must be ordered. / Everyone has their role to do, or else chaos is restored. / All this every day in one golden hour.
Touch, pinch. Move, shift. Tap, reflex.
The moon has risen and our shift has begun. / We night owls hold vigil in the resident room.
Twenty-four hours a day. / Spent all in one place. / The beds, the lights, the rooms all the same. / The hospital is today’s domain.
The boy coming to the office was eight. / Came in with tremendous hate. / An exceptionally troubled household.
Because I could not stop for death, / He kindly asked I pause. / My arms were full of sterile wraps, / Scissors, tape, and gauze.
Many patient encounters, often brief, have left me with a lasting impression. I reflect on these moments by capturing the dialogue, gestures or quiet observations that occur when caring for patients.
One step and then another; / the end is near! The end is nearly here! / And yet, it is not. Not yet near. / So, I carry on, though I am weary, / though my telomeres shorten or because my telomeres shorten,
Contributing Writer
Texas Tech University Health Sciences Center Paul L. Foster School of Medicine
Melissa Huddleston is a fourth-year medical student at Texas Tech University Health Sciences Center Paul L. Foster School of Medicine in El Paso, Texas class of 2023. In 2016, she graduated from Baylor University with a Bachelor of Science in informatics and a secondary major in classics. In 2018, she graduated from Baylor University with a Master of Public Health in community health education. She enjoys hiking, jumping rope, and reading. After graduating from medical school, Melissa would like to pursue a career in pediatrics.
