“Grit” is the word used by our governor in Michigan to describe the hearty Midwesterners who live here.
“Grit” is the motto of the Detroit Lions, a team that has never before been in the Superbowl but that has a chance this year.
But before grit was Grit, there was my father.
The bus is crowded today, and January sleet splashes against the windows. The damp of each of us thickens the air. I breathe in a miasma of germs and others’ breath. My scarf wets my face as the snow melts.
An eternity goes by before we reach the downtown stop. From here, I’ll take one more bus to get to the hospital where I work as a physician assistant on a team that treats infections involving blood vessels and the heart. I’m huddled an appropriate distance from the other commuters, my back to the wind.
Clean. Dry. Intact. Read More »
It’s a typical Friday night in New Orleans. The streets are brimming with people from all over the world looking for a night of fun in the Big Easy.
I check the time: 5:45 pm. It’s a little more than a mile from my apartment to Ozanam Inn, a shelter for the unhoused where I work as the coordinator for the student-run Tulane Tuberculosis Screening Clinic Program. My shift tonight runs from 6:00-8:00 pm.
“Teach to Fish for Tomorrow” Read More »
She did not slice the bandage snugged about the numb toe
but tickled an end open to begin the unwinding. She
unwound the gauze slowly as she turned her head
to see where the cloth stuck to itself and how to cut it.
She reluctantly spends Christmas eve in the ER. IV lasix hung with care. She returns to the nursing facility with only one ask: “When can I have sex?” I promptly pen a prescription for sex with groom of sixty-five years and a daily glass of wine, then play their song, “My Prayer” by the Platters.
Danielle Snyderman
Flourtown, Pennsylvania
Sex, Drugs and Rock & Roll (a 55-word story) Read More »
I’ve been aboard a “choo-choo train” for decades. I traveled to college, to medical school, to family medicine residency, to become an attending physician, then a medical administrator. Each new locale exposed me to a novel culture, with new languages, rules, and personalities—forcing me to learn different ways of thinking and relating to my environment.
My daughter and I sat on her bedroom floor, packing up her soccer gear. We both knew the time had come for her to walk away from the sport she loved. Her chronic illness had gotten the best of her, although she’d fought it as long as she could.
When Haley was 11 years old, she had what we now know was an undiagnosed concussion. It started with dizziness and progressed to frequent headaches, vertigo, nausea, and syncope. She started middle school this way, and by her sophomore year of high school was unable to attend class at all. During this time, she continued to play soccer, sometimes passing out on the field. We knew she was in trouble when she raised her hand and took a knee.
The Courage to Move Forward Read More »
“You know what they say, Dr. Chew—every day above ground is a good day.”
My next patient, for whom this is a mantra, is in the waiting room when I duck out for an overdue bathroom break. Her bleached blonde hair is tangled, her jeans tight and faded, her face mashed like a boxer 20 years her senior. Her gray eyes vigilantly scan the crowded room.
Editor’s Note: This piece was a finalist in the Pulse writing contest, “On Being Different.”
“Hello. My name is Joan, and I have Tourette syndrome.”
This is my fantasy greeting when meeting people. It would give them notice that there’s something different about me—that I have a chronic neurological condition. It would alert them that I might make repetitive, annoying sounds, like clearing my throat or sniffing; or suddenly make a strange body movement, like flinging out my arm or jerking my head or shuddering. Not to mention the unexpected outbursts of irrational anger.
When I was in medical school, a physiology lecturer told us about a book called Pride and a Daily Marathon. This narrative case study, written by neurophysiologist Jonathan Cole, is about the struggles and triumphs of a young man in his quest to live a full life after he awakes one morning having lost all sensation below his neck.
The Daily Marathon Read More »
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