A Blue-Lit Room
In a hospital room lit blue / By the rays entering in from the clouded sun
Poetry Thursdays
Poetry Thursdays is our initiative to highlight poetry and prose by medical students, with a new post every Thursday. If you are interested in contributing or would like to learn more, please contact our editors.
Contributing Writer
University of New England College of Osteopathic Medicine
Alina is a fourth-year medical student at the University of New England College of Osteopathic Medicine in Biddeford, Maine, class of 2021. In 2015, she graduated from Brandeis University with a Bachelor of Science in biology and health: science, society and policy (HSSP). She enjoys painting, baking, hiking and spending time with friends and family in her free time. After graduating from medical school, Alina would like to pursue a career in Internal Medicine.
COVID Burnout
I’m not the first to think / under my breath, even out loud: / To test positive for Covid. / Even after this morning.
An Ode to Paul Hoover
Secret / The caterpillar munching on hair / beneath your scrub cap
2020
Some days, I only feel disillusion of the soul / that yearns for bear hugs, game nights, Nana’s pecan pie.
‘Twas the Block Before Step
‘Twas the block before Step, and all through the school / not a student was stirring — no one was a fool
Attack of the Meconium
5:00 am, the first day on the night shift, / six deliveries completed and only one hour remains. / A call from the nurse says the patient in 14 is five centimeters dilated, / and so we enter the room to rupture her membranes.
Centimeters
The clock strikes midnight and just like that, / she’s been laboring for 10 hours as expected, / time flies when you can’t feel contraction pain.
A Nation on My Shoulders
Failure was never an option for me. // Every time I fail… / I am reminded that I have let my country down.
The Broken Ones
Send us the broken, the battered, / “give me your tired, your poor,” / your torn and tattered.
To Be a Kid
Just a five-year-old kid / Yet always in and out of the hospital, / Since her first beautiful breath / Through each breath after, / With her life-giving / Yet ever-faltering lungs.
Bones & Bruises
Your bones are beautiful / And your bruises are art
Rising Out of the Ruin
I wish it were different — / Dying patients, struggling hospitals, overworked health care workers, / topsy-turvy economies, politicized safety precautions, and the / uncertainty / of tomorrow.
Trisha Kaundinya is an internal medicine-dermatology combined resident at Mass General-Brigham and Harvard Dermatology. In her free time, she enjoys cycling and cooking.