Afterthoughts on Palliative Care
His breaths are heavy when we walk in. / Abdomen distended: / a large, perfect half-sphere…
Off the Shelf
Off the Shelf is our section for creative works by medical students.
Medical Student Editor and Contributing Writer
Emory University School of Medicine
Jen is a fourth-year medical student at Emory University School of Medicine in Atlanta, Georgia. In 2016, she graduated from Emory with a Bachelor of Arts in English concentrated in multi-ethnic contemporary American literature and a minor in Music. Jen is passionate about addressing healthcare disparities, highlighting intersectionality and patient-centered care, narrative medicine, and mentorship/education. Aside from medicine, she also enjoys poetry, piano, tennis, indie concerts, Asian-American media, and spending too much time in coffeeshops. After graduation, she aspires to pursue a career in Internal Medicine.
Twelve Weeks
Dr. Perkins explained to Elizabeth that she had three options: continue with the pregnancy and parent the child, continue with the pregnancy and pursue adoption, or discontinue the pregnancy and have an abortion.
There Is No Sound
There is no sound / like that of a heart breaking.
Yours Sincerely
This house was once full of life / Layers of warmth and affection. / A fireplace, the heart of all
Women With Notebooks
If you come into the hospital room before she arrives, you might miss the telltale signs of her existence. They are subtle — a soft sweater thrown over a chair for those drafty hospital wards or an absurdly expensive vegetable tray from the café downstairs on the patient’s table.
Arrhythmia
Hearts that beat, / Turn into hearts that don’t.
Medicine is a March
Medicine is a march, but it’s not like Sherman’s to the sea. You don’t burn what you leave, and the sea is always just beyond the next hill.
Broken
A few winters ago, you called me after a ski accident and announced / “I have fractured my tibial plate.”
Stages of Grief
I had felt strange during the week leading up to the last ultrasound. Pregnancy is a roller coaster of sensations, but that week had been off a little. I barely noticed the ultrasound tech rubbing the cold, blue gel on my massive belly. I wanted to hear that sound: that quiet, pulsing sound of my baby racing to be born.
The Tomato Plant
We work in a hospital / Faithfully / Like the tomato plant / Serving a garden community
I Dream Ahead
Draped the head and steadied the bed / For the life-saving aneurysm clipping, / I stop thinking of my former life.
Anatomy of Love
Your Smile / Wrinkles, / Where my jokes weren’t funny.
Contributing Writer
University of California, San Diego
Alicia Asturias is a second-year medical student at the University of California, San Diego. She earned her bachelor’s degree in psychology at the University of California, Berkeley where she competed in the all-around on the Women’s Gymnastics Team. Her medical interests include orthopedics, family medicine and OB/GYN. She is new to poetry, but art is an old friend.