Escape
The child’s restful sleep is lost / To the hisses of serpents and other seditious demons
The child’s restful sleep is lost / To the hisses of serpents and other seditious demons
Studies have shown that physicians with exposure and background in the humanities are more empathetic, ethical, expressive and even healthier. Recently, medical school curricula across the country have begun to emphasize communication, teamwork, problem solving and humanistic care, as the dichotomous view of the sciences as a separate entity from art and literature is becoming obsolete.
“This one is a handful. She brought a long list, too, so good luck with that,” the nurse said as she handed me the patient prep sheet. This was a new patient to the family medicine practice. I was seeing her near the end of a long day, so I took a deep breath to reset my mind as I entered the exam room, prepared to listen.
I knew she was in a difficult legal situation that was taking an emotional toll on her. After learning that she had few visitors, I asked about her depression and how she was coping. As she spoke, I could not help but think about the degree to which her social isolation was worsening her symptoms.
Unsheathe a hollow spear and spill from ephemeral streams of blue. / Hold it against me only for a moment to let my skin seize against the cold steel.
My first patient with Alzheimer’s, Sheryll, led me on a journey of questions and self-growth which I had never expected. Until meeting her, I hadn’t thought extensively about how our biology may dictate cognition and free will. While my thoughts on the matter continue to develop as I broaden my clinical experience, these considerations continue to frame my understanding of my patients, myself and the world around me.
On a search for / assurance, / I was sat across / the Intrepid
It was obvious that something was off. His mood was not what I would expect from a patient who had received a transplant, which for many patients represents a second chance at normalcy and freedom from the restrictions of dialysis. As we started our trek out of the SICU, my attending continued to tell me Mr. W’s story.
There is something about lighting a match. / Such power and awe, / Something that might catch a stronghold
For current third-year students across the country, the pandemic hit at a notably unstable moment in our lives. Mere months after many of us began medical school in new localities amongst new communities, all was suddenly fragmented.
There is a darkness that lingers above. / Alive and breathing, / Short shallow breaths.
On Monday morning, a medical assistant finds me with a nasal swab in hand. I scribble my signature and temperature on the form he hands me. “Ready, Maria?” he asks, and then laughs when I groan in response. I tilt my head, close my eyes and wait for the worst part to be over. After 15 minutes of waiting in the student workroom, he tells me I am COVID-19 negative and set for the week.