In My Place
Congratulations, you finally made it! / You pushed past when you wanted to quit. / White coat in hand, smile on your face, / I’m sorry to tell you that medicine will put you in your place.
Off the Shelf is our section for creative works by medical students.
Congratulations, you finally made it! / You pushed past when you wanted to quit. / White coat in hand, smile on your face, / I’m sorry to tell you that medicine will put you in your place.
They say to be tough is to have thick skin, but I say to have thick tears. / Skin? It can collect pimples, papercuts, and pus, can be scratched, scraped, and sliced.
Take him to the ICU, / Now. / Trauma, Level 1, coming from just outside of triage.
The doctor motioned to sit, turned a chair / to face the monitor. A perfectly lovely office. / Natural light from the barren window / gathered in circles around my feet.
Blue latex feels slick against / my hands. I grip my instrument tightly, / surprised breath escaping me as / the scalpel quickly reveals
It does not grace your ears, / but you can hear it. / It does not touch your skin, / but you feel its pull. / It can’t be seen or read / but nonetheless, it guides you.
Your body lay on the table, wrapped in shrouds / while robed students gathered around, / Your body lay on the table, skin leathery and strong, / I imagined what stories it bore, what paths it traveled along.
Gloves first, then scalpel blades gathered, / instructor books and an atlas. / What yearning and churning my mind feels, / unsure what learning to expect.
After hours of struggle, noise, / knife and clamp and lung flapping wetly / like a broken bird wing in an open chest, / there is this part, the dismantling.
“We kept him alive to let his family say goodbye, / and sometimes that’s the biggest victory.”
Motionless, a man awakes from his stupor of heart. Relief from sharpness, the pooling and swelling.
Red blood flows, red lights flash, / Down the streets of Sarajevo. / I wonder which will win today: / Hermes’ staff or Ares’ spear?