Abscess
Hunched over in your chair, / Guarding an abscess with apathy, / Your arm is swollen, angry, burning.
Off the Shelf is our section for creative works by medical students.
Hunched over in your chair, / Guarding an abscess with apathy, / Your arm is swollen, angry, burning.
Condolences drown in brevity; / Empathy, a hastened veneer; / Understanding lost to formality
From deep below / layers and rings of earth / I feel the vibrations / Pulse
The University of Central Florida College of Medicine is located 20 miles from PULSE nightclub in Orlando, FL. This poem is dedicated to the victims, survivors and their families and to this beautiful community that will forever be #OrlandoStrong.
At Albany Medical College, upon our orientation to gross anatomy, we are asked to draw our feelings on blank index cards prior to entering the cadaver laboratory. As we progress through the year, our sentiments regarding anatomy may remain the same, or may change, and these drawings allow us to look back at this milestone we crossed as budding medical students.
It never ends / That pain / Running through my back in a huff
While studying for boards I became pretty convinced that before becoming a medical school dean, you first have to complete a course in well-intentioned but unhelpful similes.
We lead babies couldn’t decipher it. It was pattern matching — something the cognitively impaired couldn’t do very well. Figure out the rules and pick the best option. If I let myself, it did feel futile.
I knew you were a champion, / though I never saw you win, / by the precision in your choices / and your knowing, tired grin.
The life of a medical student can be quite isolating at times. In many ways, the struggle to become competent and knowledgeable on the wards becomes so all-consuming that it is so easy to become one-dimensional. After long hours during the day trying to keep up with the fast-paced schedules of the hospital, we return home with more studying and brushing up to do so that we may be ready for another day of endless learning. It is one simple task — to learn as much as we can — but it is one that can seem too much at times.
A silhouette sits in my mind / No purer beauty that I could find / Than that which rests right by my side / And teases me.
At 5 a.m. the alarm clock rings / His eyes peel open, he can’t see a thing / And he doesn’t know what today will bring / But his sleep is broken.