On Rounds
Because I could not stop for death, / He kindly asked I pause. / My arms were full of sterile wraps, / Scissors, tape, and gauze.
Off the Shelf
Off the Shelf is our section for creative works by medical students.
Contributing Writer
University of Michigan Medical School
Anna is a member of the class of 2024 at the University of Michigan Medical School. She graduated from University of Michigan in 2019 with a degree in French Language and Literature. In her free time, Anna enjoys cooking, exploring nature, and taking care of her plants.
A Simple Game of Basketball
In my second year of medical school, amidst the frequent exams and impending doom of third year rotations, I would often look forward to Tuesday nights. On these nights, students and residents would come together to play pick-up basketball at a local gym, removed from the stresses of medical school.
Worried Well
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,
Critical Senses
Do you hear what I hear? / The humming of machines, / which can’t breathe, / but enable artificial ventilation for living beings.
To Grieve Appropriately
What does it mean to “grieve appropriately?” / To silently cry / as to not break the fragility in the air.
Time Left: 89 Minutes, 38 Seconds
My Grandmother never once told me how / she feels about dying.
Dancing Through Imposter Syndrome
Dance has always been a medium for me to express my emotions. It makes me feel alive and helps me process my experiences, including that with imposter syndrome. Imposter syndrome has been described as feelings of self-doubt, especially in high achieving people
Just a Medical Student
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m just a med student. The rest of the team will be here shortly, they’ll explain everything to you.” We wait in silence.
Air Hunger
His diseased lungs / stiff like dry clay / function like gills out of the water.
champagne tap
she is curled on her side like a child / eyes closed, back exposed.
To Give Your Heart And Soul (2021)
Physicians give their heart and soul to the practice of medicine. Caring for patients at their most vulnerable moments is a heavy responsibility and privilege that medical professionals must carry.
Dying Is Not
Dying is not / as romantic as I once thought. / I think you always knew this.
Contributing Writer
Loyola’s Stritch School of Medicine
Anneka Johnston grew up in West Michigan and attended Kenyon College, majoring in English with a special certification in creative writing, and minoring in chemistry. Continuing her lifelong commitment to avoid sunny weather, Anneka moved to Chicago following graduation, and worked in a Suboxone clinic at the height of Chicago’s opioid epidemic. She began searching for the common ground between medicine and the humanities, and became passionate about giving voice to patient experiences through narrative art. She received second place in the 2022 DeBakey Poetry Contest and third place in the 2022 William Carlos William Poetry Competition. She is currently a fourth-year student at Loyola’s Stritch School of Medicine and plans to pursue a career in psychiatry.