Passed Tense
I wasn’t expecting the morning report. / I wasn’t expecting to see images, / The death, the blood, the open eyes, / the open hands grasping at someone / long gone. Bullets buried deep.
I wasn’t expecting the morning report. / I wasn’t expecting to see images, / The death, the blood, the open eyes, / the open hands grasping at someone / long gone. Bullets buried deep.
I had never truly scrubbed into an OR before, and I was incredibly terrified on my first day of general surgery. So I was skeptical when the scrub tech said, “Congratulations on getting here.” Yet somehow, against all odds, something clicked. Within the bright, sterile, cold OR, “Can’t get you off my mind,” rang out.
In light of obesity’s concerning prevalence and economic burden, it becomes imperative that we equip future health care providers with the knowledge and skills essential for effective obesity management. However, despite the numerous consequences of obesity on both individuals and society, medical students are often found to be inadequately prepared to discuss weight management with patients.
When I followed up our conversation by offering a hug, I felt the full release of her sorrow in our embrace. It was as if recognition of her heartbreak gave her permission to express her devastation and fear in a moment of sudden tragedy.
During my family medicine rotation, I experienced one of my most memorable patient encounters. Accompanied by her daughter, my patient came for her annual physical with her primary care physician. Approaching them with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness, I couldn’t help but notice the genuine happiness radiating from both of them.
You were worried the year would be difficult, you didn’t know how to live months on end without seeing or hugging family and didn’t know how you would meet and talk to 230 people in your class (and no, you still haven’t, but at least you might know 70%).
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 could feel my right lower leg starting to bend. And bend. And bend for an eternity before I finally hit the turf. Then, my only view through the bars of my helmet were the Friday night lights against the Friday night sky.
As a medical student, I have found that one of the biggest challenges during my journey through the many clinical experiences is the ability to truly immerse myself in my patients’ stories and attempt to place myself in their shoes when thoughts of other clinical and academic responsibilities were constantly hovering over my head.
As a 17-year-old fresh out of emergency medical technician (EMT) training, I was eager to complete my first ambulance call. The thought of rushing to someone’s rescue excited me. In fact, providing immediate, lifesaving care is what drew me to become an EMT in the first place.
The rectangular device’s intrusive, sudden blare triggers a visceral response as I feel the plastic clip vibrate against my hip. I feel my palms flood like a wetland, sweaty fingers crashing against each other like driftwood washing onto shore. My mind wanders for a moment as I notice the reaction I’m experiencing.
It is a snowy day in April / The three of us each sit at our own windows and watch the remainder of our winters, / She says it came out of nowhere. / She means the snow maybe, or the Dementia.