first death
After hours of struggle, noise, / knife and clamp and lung flapping wetly / like a broken bird wing in an open chest, / there is this part, the dismantling.
Tag: 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
Duke University School of Medicine
Lee is a second year medical student at Duke University School of Medicine in Durham, NC, class of 2022. In 2018, she graduated from Vanderbilt University with a Bachelor of Arts in psychology and neuroscience with Highest Honors in neuroscience. Outside of the hospital she enjoys running, yoga, singing, and shirking her responsibilities to go to concerts. After graduation, Lee plans to enter general surgery residency, eventually becoming a trauma and critical care surgeon.
first code
“We kept him alive to let his family say goodbye, / and sometimes that’s the biggest victory.”
Two Beds
Motionless, a man awakes from his stupor of heart. Relief from sharpness, the pooling and swelling.
The Streets of Sarajevo
Red blood flows, red lights flash, / Down the streets of Sarajevo. / I wonder which will win today: / Hermes’ staff or Ares’ spear?
Stomach
The burning taste / of acid in the throat / is a warning.
Sutures and Stones
Superficial to deep, deep to superficial, / 90 degrees, in and out, / Not too deep, filled with doubt.
A More Perfect Union
Who am I to say that I am an artist? / Itʼs the wanting / the need to express…
loser
You lose / your pen with / the red and blue and black ink
6 y/o F: Patient Perspective of Illness
mom, what’s loo-skeem-ya? / oh okay — does that mean I’m loo-skeem-ya?
A Touch of Kindness
In the operating room, a man immediately recognized and greeted me / Even though I wore a surgical mask. / His welcoming expression was familiar to me, but I couldn’t pinpoint how I knew him.
Nose
I take a deep breath / to calm myself / before walking into the storm / of OR shadowing.
Daydream
On the other side there is a home, / With green grass, red rosebushes, and a pool where sharks swim in the deep end.
Contributing Writer
University of California, San Diego School of Medicine
Mitchell Foster is a second-year medical student at the University of California, San Diego Class of 2022. In 2016, he graduated from the University of California, Santa Barbara with a Bachelor of Science in pharmacology. He enjoys traveling, sports, and playing with dogs in his free time. After graduating medical school, Mitchell would like to pursue a career in emergency medicine, sports medicine, or surgery.