Operating Room
As I step carefully into the sterile field / past the rows of scalpels, forceps and clamps, / I sense a gentle fluttering in my chest.
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.
As I step carefully into the sterile field / past the rows of scalpels, forceps and clamps, / I sense a gentle fluttering in my chest.
Should the symbol of medicine bear one snake or two? / If you answered two, then the joke is on you! / Or, at least, that’s the current popular view.
I imagine her mother / Squeezing daughter’s limp hand / Silent tears
Anatomy is more than flesh and bone and blood. / It’s more than the donor and the scalpel teaching the student.
good morning, i’m the medical student / i must ask how you are feeling / even though my eyes already sting
Borborygmi: Rumbling or gurgling noises made by the movement of fluid and gas in the intestines.
A fog of emotions blankets the waiting room / Stress and anxiety, with some impending doom.
There is a straight line from / ordering an ultrasound to obtaining / clear cylinders of red blood cells.
Deadlines rush on, relentlessly. / Another email signed, / “Best regards.”
Studying blood clots / While I sit for hours on end / Affixing my own.
You’ve taken everything / Nothing is left
Screams. Tears. Despair. / A sense of sadness in the atmosphere.