Two sides

Ryan Asauskas, MS3, Class of 2025

So one of them is gone
She just stared ahead
She had one child left inside her and could not dwell on
But, Her face, it grew cherry red
But, Her eyes swelled with tears
But she had tried so hard to make a life
But come to pass was her greatest fear
She would see her child in the afterlife
So long had she tried to make a child
So long had she waited for that new baby’s cry
Now her new life will have to be reconciled
She said goodbye and thank you
She left

So I have another one of them
She said with glee
She had one less child inside and one more outside a new gen
With 5 children now she could not believe her happy reality
Her family thanked and cried tears of joy
All her pregnancies were happy stories in the end
Each one ended with a boy
With only happiness did she have to contend
She said goodbye and thank you
She left

One patient lost a whole world
One patient gained a world unique
One patient after another
One room after another
One emotion after another
One life and one death after another
One face after another
Just one day after another

How do you do that when all you hear is:
Don’t you know that, you’re a doctor
You went to school for so long
I expect you to know biology
I expect you to know chemistry
I expect you to know anatomy
I expect you to understand me
I expect you to help me
I expect you to consul me
I expect you to comfort me
I expect you to save me
I expect you to save my child
Why did you fail

How do you stop this vocation when you hear:
Thank you for listening
Thank you for talking to me, that’s all I needed
Thank you for taking care of them, we couldn’t
Thank you for helping me
Thank you, I feel much better
I trust you doctor, do what is best
I trust you to make the right choice
I trust you with my family, my child, my wife
I trust you with my life

Bearing the Burden

Dylan Wentzel, M3, Class of 2025

It was an ordinary day on the Benign Gynecologic Surgery service, filled with routine cases and hurried movements. I had just finished assisting with the usual procedures when I glanced over my schedule and sensed that the upcoming case, a dilation and evacuation, was far from ordinary. This case was different—it carried a weight that set it apart.

The procedure involved a young couple who had recently suffered the devastating loss of their first child. As I met them, grief clung to the air. The wife, still immersed in sadness, was led to the operative area with tears streaming down her face. Stepping into the operating room, a palpable shift in atmosphere enveloped us; everyone acknowledged the profound significance of what we were about to undertake.

As the D&E progressed, we faced the solemn task of removing fetal parts from the uterus. It felt surreal, as if we were handling the fragments of a future that would never be realized. Sorting through the remnants of a life left me questioning the essence of this medical intervention—it didn’t align with my perception of medicine.

As the procedure neared its end, the attending physician seemed to grasp the internal struggle I, and perhaps any medical student, was experiencing. She took a moment to pull me aside and shared a perspective that resonated deeply: performing this challenging procedure was a means to spare the patient from the anguish of going through labor to deliver a nonviable child. She conveyed, “We bear this burden so our patients don’t have to.” In that moment, the realization struck me that this encapsulated the essence of medicine—an intricate balance of confronting hardships to help shield patients from unbearable realities.

While medicine encompasses incredible aspects, it also introduces challenges that test our resolve. There will be difficult days, but our duty is to bear burdens so our patients can navigate their struggles with as much ease as possible. The arduous moments serve a purpose—to make other lives a little better.

After the procedure, we approached the husband to reassure him. Witnessing the attending physician comforting him, she handed over a small piece of paper bearing the footprints of their lost child. It was a poignant reminder of the honor and responsibility physicians carry, being present in patients’ lowest moments. I walked away with a profound understanding of our duty—to share the weight of these moments with respect and reverence, embracing the privilege of standing alongside our patients during their most challenging times.