It’s Okay To Say Goodbye
As the door swings open, it hits the chair that was shifted more than usual. / Next to the computer sits a 94-year-old woman in a wheelchair / who is here for one last visit.
Tag: prose
Contributing Writer
Florida State University College of Medicine
Kiah is a fourth-year medical student at Florida State University College of Medicine in Tallahassee, FL Class of 2022. In 2018, she graduated magna cum laude from Florida State University with a Bachelor of Science in biological science with a minor in chemistry. She enjoys painting, writing, and reading fantasy novels in her free time. Kiah plans to pursue a career in ophthalmology.
It’s all in the mind.
I’m 19, I was caught trespassing. / They said I was acting “unusual.” / No reason really.
Life.
A seedling, a baby — / the most vulnerable state. / Roots, placenta ground into mother — / wholly dependent on a magnificent caretaker.
Catching Threads at the End of Preclinical
I hope my classmates, communities, and I all dance far more often with health than sickness. I pray that soon the last hospital bed holds the last patient with COVID. I hope justice and truth prevail. I hope we hold onto what we carry: the love of friends and family, a resilience tried and true, bravery unbridled and faith that we will persevere among the challenges life affords. I hope that after long days of caring for others, we care for ourselves and call a friend, a loved one, a therapist — and remember how far we’ve come. We have been patients, and we will be patients, even as we care for patients.
Ms. Metaphysics
I am sitting in school / but I am also thinking of you. / Yes, I do / wonder how consciousness / wraps round and round / this hunk of meat, / how chunks of flesh / sustain your metaphysical feat.
Weather This Weather
if we can just cling / and weather this weather, / we can make some things / much better and better.
A Blue-Lit Room
In a hospital room lit blue / By the rays entering in from the clouded sun
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
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.
Contributing Writer
Mayo Clinic Alix School of Medicine
Neha Deo is a second-year medical student at the Mayo Clinic Alix School of Medicine in Rochester, MN class of 2023. In 2018, she graduated from the University of British Columbia with a Bachelor of Science in Biology with Distinction. She enjoys working out, keeping up to date on high fashion culture, and spending time with friends. After graduating medical school, Neha would like to pursue a career in EM/dermatology and engage in philanthropy to create opportunities for Fijians like herself.