1077: Slowly, They Will Know the Truth

1077: Slowly, They Will Know the Truth

Anonymous

I am almost always numb. When I can feel the pain, though, it takes control over all five senses.

Mostly my hearing. All of the others—except, I suppose, touch—become nonexistent. My vision is reduced to flashes of light and dark, obscured and blurred through tears. There is no taste or smell. Continue reading “1077: Slowly, They Will Know the Truth”

A Brief Hx of Daucus Carota, As Read to the Admissions Committee

A Brief Hx of Daucus Carota, As Read to the Admissions Committee

Linzy Kirkpatrick, M2, Class of 2023

Genetic modification is the process of altering the DNA of an organism. A process, of selective cultivation for traits deemed to be beneficial, beautiful, robust. In the hands of harvesters, what was wild becomes commonplace; countercurrents of cuisine built upon sturdier eats and thicker meats and drought-resistant grains, passed down to become culture. Somewhere along the way, an errant hand plucked up a root —forsooth! his plan turned humble purple or white to yellow, then orange. Continue reading “A Brief Hx of Daucus Carota, As Read to the Admissions Committee”

Room for More

Room for More

QeeQee Gao, M3, Class of 2022

“Maurice Johnson is a forty-one-year-old male who presents to the clinic with a chief complaint of chronic left leg swelling. His leg swelling originally started two years ago….”

As the medical student’s voice droned on, all the attending could hear was her stomach rumbling from the missed breakfast that was overtaken by her toddler’s stubborn choice of apparel. She was in a purple phase and insisted on only wearing purple. But the prior day’s laundry load sat forgotten in the washer and had set off a morning of unnecessary tears and uneaten breakfast.  Continue reading “Room for More”

Seemingly Sisyphean

Seemingly Sisyphean

Stefano Byer, M3, Class of 2022

Now, halfway through the crux of medical school that is third year, I often sympathize with Sisyphus. I begin each week with new people, new patients, new criticisms, new stresses, new stories, new lessons, and once I’ve finally adapted…the next week beings—the stone rolls down the hill: I begin anew, and I love it (unlike Sisyphus). Continue reading “Seemingly Sisyphean”

Summer is the Time of Remembrance

Summer is the Time of Remembrance

Connor Stubblefield, M3, Class of 2022

Summer is the time of remembrance.

To know what is coming in the cold winter,

to know what is past in the fresh spring.

New life passes away,

and the cold washes it all away,

prepares the ground for the bulbs to spring up.

Cyclical.

To know one’s passing is to know rebirth.

Continue reading “Summer is the Time of Remembrance”

They Find Their Needs Met in You

They Find Their Needs Met in You

Connor Stubblefield, M3, Class of 2022

I
The row of pink lines, round faces tousled at every frill and trill by the wind, finds its needs met in you.

II
The shorter friends, purple and yellow bunches tossed not as much by the wind as by the butterflies and bees that leap and jump from their platforms—yes, these too, the flowers and the bright flitting patterns under the sun, find their needs met in you. Continue reading “They Find Their Needs Met in You”