fostering the humanistic practice of medicine publishing personal accounts of illness and healing encouraging health care advocacy

Search
Close this search box.

fostering the humanistic practice of medicine publishing personal accounts of illness and healing encouraging health care advocacy

Search
Close this search box.

Sara Ann Conkling

A Parting Gift of Motivation

Joe is deaf when he isn’t wearing his hearing aids. So he didn’t hear my crutches behind him on the floor at 2:00 a.m. when I got out of bed for a drink of water. We’d just returned from a beautiful Mediterranean cruise. The day before our flight back to the U.S., I’d slipped on a wet staircase and torn the anterior cruciate ligament in my left knee. Surgery was successful and my rehab was going well.

But apparently my relationship wasn’t going so well. As I walked up behind Joe, I saw that he was on my laptop, corresponding with a woman on a dating site.

A Parting Gift of Motivation Read More »

It’s Not What You Think

I remember the first time I saw the long, scraggly line on top of my forearm. “It looks great,” I lied. The dermatology resident sat across from me, having just uncovered the wound left by his first surgery. As we both stared at it, I was remembering the roomful of people who’d surrounded my gurney, scrutinizing every move he made as he excised my skin cancer. I had felt sorry for him at the time. It was too big an audience for his first excision. So I was determined to be kind now.

It’s Not What You Think Read More »

Please Keep Your Narcotics

“That isn’t Tylenol.”

It had taken more than half an hour for the nurse to arrive at my bedside with the pills I’d asked for, following my grueling four-and-a-half-hour surgery. I had finally been wheeled into a hospital room at midnight, had pushed my call button, had asked for Tylenol, and then had waited.

“What is this?” I asked, as I handed the pills back to the nurse. The color drained from her face. “It’s pain medication,” she said. “I brought you pain medication.”

Please Keep Your Narcotics Read More »

Solitude Interrupted, Thankfully

I knew the private room at the busy teaching hospital was a rare luxury.

I had spent the entire day having invasive and uncomfortable tests; I was in the hospital because my left kidney had been partially destroyed by an interventional radiologist who had failed to distinguish between a renal cyst and a renal diverticulum. Thus my left kidney had been ablated with alcohol—twice. I was in pain, infected, and bleeding internally.

Solitude Interrupted, Thankfully Read More »

When Fat Isn’t Just Fat

It’s a common conversation: A female patient presents to her male doctor with unexplained weight gain. “I’m not overeating,” she says. “I try to exercise, but it’s getting harder and harder to do that.”

The physician is dubious. “You just need to be more active,” he responds. “You need to stop eating so much,” he adds. “Here’s a diet plan. You just need to stick to it.”

When Fat Isn’t Just Fat Read More »

The First Scar

In the early 1980s, I considered everyone at Thomas Jefferson Hospital in Philadelphia to be my friend. As a volunteer and a vestry member at the nearby Episcopal church, I would often arrive at the ER with a homeless person who had come to the church for help after being badly injured. I was so impressed with how the doctors and nurses treated these patients that I developed a real affinity for the hospital.

The First Scar Read More »

Dogs Should Live Forever

I wasn’t looking for a new dog. I had recently lost my best friend of over sixteen years, a beloved terrier mix. My sister had dragged me into the shelter so that she could get a new cat. So, while she looked at cats, I decided to pet all the dogs, lingering a little longer with the ones that looked the most sad.

The shelter staff began to follow me like I was a shoplifter. “Can we help you find a dog?” “What kind of dog would you like?” “Would you like to meet that dog?” Desperation tinged their inquiries.

Dogs Should Live Forever Read More »

Scroll to Top