Generosity
I do not want to do this to you / My heart wrenches / For the pain we inflict
Off the Shelf is our section for creative works by medical students.
I do not want to do this to you / My heart wrenches / For the pain we inflict
My attending / looked at me / and asked, / What is killing your patient?
When I started neuroanatomy, I was fascinated by the brain. However, I found it difficult to keep track of the where structures were spatially when there were so many different ways to dissect it. To help myself study, I drew a coronal section alongside an intact hemisphere so I could better appreciate the structures in relationship to one another. When I spend any amount of time creating a piece of artwork, I retain it much more quickly, as if my hands are translating it into my memory.
and / finally / She arrived / from the pool.
This beating heart / Gave me a second start / It gave me a reason to be / To be me
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.
If not determination, / If not strength of will, / If not true passion, / If not a desire to heal
you may have seen / serpents before / on a white coat lapel / or a hospital door
The idea for this piece came to me in the last few weeks of my first-year anatomy class. I wanted to create a work for my school’s annual Service of Gratitude, where the class commemorates those individuals who donated their bodies for our education. I won’t say too much about the piece, as I’d like to allow the viewer his or her own experience. I will just say that learning about the human body for the first time through gross “sections,” radiographic “slices” and illustrated muscle groups in various atlases came with a bizarre, inhuman — or inhumane, even — feeling to it. I could not stop thinking about how learning the human body meant that I had to study it in its most mutilated forms. It was just too ironic.
There is a writhing feeling deep within me / below the surface but always present / With the passing years it creeps up silently / searching for release.
Normally I’m itching / hustling / to be involved in a delivery.
Am I in the right place? / What’s this person’s name again? / I discovered the door code! / No more waiting outside for someone to let me in.