Off the Shelf is our section for creative works by medical students.
Managing Editor and Contributing Writer
Arkansas College of Osteopathic Medicine
Ruchica Chandnani is a third year medical student at the Arkansas College of Osteopathic Medicine in Fort Smith, Arkansas. In 2019, she graduated from the University of Michigan - Ann Arbor with a Bachelor of Science in Biopsychology, Cognition, and Neuroscience and a minor in Asian Languages and Culture. In her spare time, she likes watching cartoons and anime, writing, painting, eating, and traveling (esp. solo traveling). Presently, Ruchica is interested in pursuing Psychiatry, Neurology, and/or Anesthesiology and hopes to become an advocate for victims of trauma.
This painting, utilizing oil and acrylic paints, was made in the midst of studying for my ongoing classes and boards. There have been a couple diseases that have stuck with me throughout my studies. One of them is type 1 achalasia from the GI block I did recently.
March 13, 2020. A date engraved in many of our minds. The day the President declared a National Emergency concerning the Novel Coronavirus Disease Outbreak.
What if I could see the emotions that flood my patient’s mind? What if I could know how much space anger, frustration, joy, sorrow, hope took up in their mind’s real estate?
Dead eschars are excised. / Skin grafts grow like flowers / Repotted for new life.
Grandpapa had a gift for storytelling. / Sitting on the two-legged stools at the end of the Hutong,
Bleary-eyed, / Surgical cap awry, / I follow in a single file line.
As I unzip the synthetic shroud, / he breathes his last, first breath: / one final exhalation from the plastic pleura / before we make acquaintance.
Medical student, why don’t you intubate? / The OR is safe, it’ll go great.
In the hospital lobby, three police officers / surrounded a woman in an oversized, white T-shirt, / sitting in a corner chair that nearly swallowed her whole, / enveloping her in its dull, floral pattern.
Why — why did you die? / Your soul took to the sky / without a conscious goodbye
The quaternary code, the winding staircase / of you, incommensurate in its beauty.
The child’s restful sleep is lost / To the hisses of serpents and other seditious demons
Contributing Writer
Stanford University School of Medicine
Brian Smith is a first-year medical student at the Stanford University School of Medicine in Stanford, California, a member of the starting class of 2021. In 2019 he graduated from Stanford with a Bachelor of Science in biology and a minor in English, and in 2020 he graduated from Stanford with a Master of Science in biology. He enjoys writing poetry and narrative medicine, as well as running and reading in his free time. In the future, Brian would like to pursue a career in anesthesiology or oncology.
