I stepped into your home in a short white coat You asked me what year I was in I answered, I asked you how your day was You told me, “it is as good as it gets!” (smiling) As you count down the days I think to myself (nervously) We both are counting down the days But the way you’ve chosen to peer at future days is One I will never forget One we will …
“They should have a vaccine for cancer.” Tears were running down his face and onto his lap as I passed him another tissue. He couldn’t continue chemotherapy until the wound on his leg healed. It was my fourth day on my pediatric plastic surgery rotation as a third-year medical student and I was learning how to do a wound vacuum-assisted closure. He begged us to leave him alone. “I want my knee back,” he started …
When I was a child, I lost my grandpa to cancer. I used to promise him that I would become a health care provider and heal him, but unfortunately he passed away when I was in twelfth grade. Later, I joined medical school at the University of Rwanda, where I became involved in student-led research, health promotion practices and knowledge measurement.
Fluorescent lighting, lemon-scented cleaner and recently mopped tile floors. The sights and smells of a hospital floor were slowly becoming familiar to me as I wound my way around corner after corner bright and early at 6:15 a.m. on a Thursday morning.
During my family medicine rotation, I experienced one of my most memorable patient encounters. Accompanied by her daughter, my patient came for her annual physical with her primary care physician. Approaching them with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness, I couldn’t help but notice the genuine happiness radiating from both of them.
The rectangular device’s intrusive, sudden blare triggers a visceral response as I feel the plastic clip vibrate against my hip. I feel my palms flood like a wetland, sweaty fingers crashing against each other like driftwood washing onto shore. My mind wanders for a moment as I notice the reaction I’m experiencing.
A fog of emotions blankets the waiting room / Stress and anxiety, with some impending doom.
If someone asks me how my first year of medical school went, half of the time I dismiss them with a one-word answer, saving them from a conversation they aren’t ready to have. The other half of the time, I tell the truth, just to see what they have to say.
The COVID-19 pandemic and its associated lockdown precipitated wide-ranging effects on nearly all aspects of our society. Perhaps some of the most severely affected patients were those fighting cancer. These patients have little physiologic resistance to COVID-19 and accordingly experience higher morbidity and mortality when infected.
You call me on a Thursday to tell me / You were diagnosed with leukemia in October.
I commented to the resident how satisfied the attending would be with the efficiency of his work. He just laughed and said “look” as he gestured down to his list of patients. I saw the name, and a sense of dread sank in during the rest of the silent walk down the hall.
I proposed a deal to my fellow student on our surgery rotation. “You can have all the other cases today if I get the laryngectomy.”
Contributing Writer
University of Massachusetts Medical School
Madeline is a member of the Class of 2021 at the University of Massachusetts Medical School. She received her BA in Public Health Studies from Johns Hopkins University in 2014 and MMSc in Immunology from Harvard Medical School in 2017. Her primary literary interest is short narratives, and she enjoys being outside and sending snail mail in her free time.
