Finding a Way Home
Erin Imler
Preparing to assemble my new bed, I open the wordless instruction manual. The first page shows a picture of a single stick-figure standing there, hands on hips, and sadly regarding a bungled, not-put-together bed; the next image is two happy-looking stick-figures standing with their arms around each others’ shoulders, looking at a successfully constructed bed.
Despite the warning, I’m determined to do this by myself. For almost four years, I’ve slept on my couch, preferring it to my twenty-year-old mattress. Now that I’m starting a new job in a new city, it’s finally time for a new bed.
As I put it together, I can’t help but think back on my first real job as a family doctor–a post in rural northern California, working at a mobile clinic serving a predominantly homeless population.
I’d come there at age thirty, eager to experience real-life medicine outside of academia.
One of my » Continue Reading.
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