pudgeosaur

The profession of medicine is one bejeweled in accolades. Walk into any physician’s clinic, and brandished on the wall are diplomas, awards, and validation. This décor is both of pride in one’s accomplishments and as a subconscious drive to authenticate one’s medical capabilities.

This framed décor is façade. Continue reading “Surgical Reflections” →

Creative Non-fiction, Creative writing, Literature, V2 I2

Congratulations, but Being Black Probably Helped

November 9, 2020November 8, 2020by pudgeosaurLeave a Comment

Anonymous

I always knew I wanted to become a physician, but after graduating from the University of Kansas in 2014 with a GPA and MCAT score considered “non-competitive”, I took measures to bolster my resume. With two years of employment, volunteering, shadowing and several medical school interviews under my belt, I ultimately received an envelope from the KU School of Medicine in February 2016. I Skyped my mother and sister so they could witness my life transform in real time. As I peeled back the tri-folded single sheet of paper, my eyes immediately flew to the second sentence: “Unfortunately…” I half-heartedly skimmed the rest of the letter without saying a word. My mother and sister read the shame on my face. I received several more letters just like this one in the following weeks.

Continue reading “Congratulations, but Being Black Probably Helped” →

Creative writing, Literature, Poetry, V2 I2

A Shadow in the Light

November 9, 2020November 8, 2020by pudgeosaurLeave a Comment

Anonymous

If all we see is our own goodness,

but reject the darkness within,

where does that really put us?

When our side is the only truth,

the world around us crumbles,

and spiritual death takes our youth.

But what if we see our evil,

listen to the figure calling from the dark wall,

the voice who tries to catch us

well before we fall? Continue reading “A Shadow in the Light” →

Creative writing, Literature, Poetry

They Find Their Needs Met in You

November 9, 2020November 9, 2020by pudgeosaurLeave a Comment

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” →

Creative writing, Literature, Poetry