Bones & Bruises
Your bones are beautiful / And your bruises are art
Tag: prose
Contributing Writer
University of Kentucky College of Medicine
Thomas Amburn is a third-year medical student at the University of Kentucky College of Medicine in Lexington, Kentucky class of 2022. In 2015, he graduated from Transylvania University with a Bachelor of Arts in chemistry. Thomas is a Fulbright scholar and lived in Thailand after graduation for over a year. He enjoys caring for his plants, writing, and planning his next travel in his free time. In the future, Thomas would like to pursue a career in general surgery.
Hospital Doorstep
A man sleeps in the sun on a bench across from the hospital. On the bench
diagonally opposed, across and beside him, an almost doctor eats cold noodles.
The man has his pants low, half cracked, and his hands on his genitals. We all
sleep sometimes with a hand in our pants.
Well-Read
For all the things we read in one day — / from CT scans to emails, / toxicology reports and lab results
Short
Chief complaint: arm pain, / Waiting in room 4. / As I enter, he looks me up and down — / What is it he’s looking for?
Between the Dead and the Dying
A scalpel, a corpse — / His beard is neat, his eyes are / Empty. Gloves hide clammy hands / Afraid of what awaits beneath
CLL (Child Learning Love)
You call me on a Thursday to tell me / You were diagnosed with leukemia in October.
Studies of Mice and Men
Investigate. / Deeper, / deeper, / deeper: / To a depth of understanding beyond understanding.
I Sit in the Classroom
I sit in the classroom, / staring blankly at the wall. / The professor has gone off once again, / regaling a story of some elderly patient’s fall.
New Normal
Never committed a crime, / but now I feel like a prisoner. / Trapped in our minds, / our spirits leashed, / our existence wanders among these all too familiar walls.
Six Feet Apart
One inch more than the measure of me, and one inch less than that of my father. It’s been a while since I lined up, back to back. But if I did, the space between us would only read two inches. Maybe less now that he is older. Nearly sixty. Closer to the next decade than the last.
The Catastrophic Search for the Operating Room
Wake up a 5:00 a.m., / Cannot afford to be late. / It’s my first day of preclinical shadowing, / I want my first impression to be great.
Drinking Grapefruit Juice
I didn’t know / many can’t / sip coral pulpy bitter / juice from narrow glasses.
Contributing Writer
University of Illinois College of Medicine
Maggie is a third year medical student at University of Illinois College of Medicine in Chicago, IL class of 2022. In 2017, she graduated from University of Pittsburgh with Bachelors of Science & Arts in English and biology. She enjoys creative cooking, bike rides, and hammock naps in her free time. After graduating medical school, Maggie would like to pursue a career in Emergency Medicine.