Nancy Tune First impression: New and well appointed, staffed by friendly people and my favorite, irony. In the clinic hallway a woman plays a harp. I have come to learn about the process of my dying; surely this is meant to shake me free of dread and make me laugh. It doesn’t, quite. During treatment: […]
Sandra Shea I’m no stranger to dealing with the medical world and its billing systems. I’m a triple cancer survivor, had knee surgery in 2012 and now have ulcerative colitis. All told, I’ve had eleven surgeries and fourteen colonoscopies. Paperwork is practically my middle name. But the last twenty-four hours have been ridiculous. In that
Assaulted by “Health Care” Read More »
Josephine Ensign About the artist: Josephine Ensign teaches health policy and narrative medicine at the University of Washington in Seattle. Her literary non-fiction essays have appeared in The Sun, The Oberlin Alumni Magazine, Pulse, Silk Road, The Intima, The Examined Life Journal, Johns Hopkins Public Health Magazine, and in the nonfiction anthology, I Wasn’t
Mitch Kaminski Mr. Dwyer isn’t my patient, but today I’m covering for my partner in our family-practice office, so he’s been slipped into my schedule. Reading his chart, I have an ominous feeling that this visit won’t be simple. A tall, lanky man with an air of quiet dignity, Mr. Dwyer is eighty-eight. His legs
Popping the Question Read More »
Kendra Fleagle Gorlitsky Are you going to take that long with all the patients? Depends. If they’re really sick, I’ll have to.I’m just saying…there are a lot waiting. Well, this one tried to kill herself last year. And today she’s really hurting. I wanted a full physical, and I heard this is just a check-up,
Community Medicine Read More »
Peter Gallo About the artist: Peter Gallo is an artist and writer based in Vermont. He has a PhD in art history and has worked as a psychiatric social worker for many years. His work is collected internationally; he is represented by Anthony Reynolds Gallery in London and by Zieher, Smith & Horton in New York
L’Homme Blessé (Self-Portrait) Read More »
Raymond Abbott On my voice mail is a message from Donald Wyatt. He doesn’t often call, but every Monday morning he comes to see me at the Louisville, Kentucky, mental-health clinic where I’m a social worker. His message is brief: “I’m not feeling well, and I am planning a trip to either St. Louis or
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