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Latest Voices
Worth It
A few days ago, I welcomed our new first year medical students to the medical profession with a story. It went something like this:
I was in clinic yesterday, so I’m going to tell you a little story about clinic. I see patients in our school’s mobile health center. A few weeks ago, I and the third-year student rotating with me were waiting for the last patient of the day. It was already about 3:00 p.m., so we assumed our 2:00 p.m. new patient wasn’t going to show up, which isn’t uncommon in our free clinic. But around 3:15, she
A New Beginning
My eating habits are embarrassing. I open and close the refrigerator from the time I get up until I retire for the night. Apples. M&Ms. Strawberries and blueberries. M&Ms. Bananas and grapes. M&Ms. Carrots and celery. M&Ms. Cereal with skim milk. M&Ms.
August More Voices: A Turn for the Better
Dear readers,
In old movies, a greying, bearded physician arrives in the middle of the night to tend to a desperately ill family member. If the film has a happy ending, the doctor emerges from the sick room a few scenes later to solemnly pronounce, “The fever has broken.”
In my years as a physician, I would sometimes see those sudden turns for the better: A woman admitted to the hospital with a raging kidney infection responded to a few doses of antibiotic; a man with congestive heart failure whose shortness of breath went away after an intravenous infusion of
Healer’s Legacy, Broken Bonds
It’s hard to hate my father. It’s harder still to love him.
When my younger sister shared with me the news that my dad was offered the opportunity to serve as Director of our local medical school, my first reaction was one of pride. I recalled the times I spent in his private office mentoring residents. Like my grandfather before him, who was also a surgeon and a teacher, my dad loves to teach, so it’s not surprising that teaching loves him back.
Doctor-Mom vs. Gender Dysphoria
Once a week, it happens to be on Mondays, I gather the supplies:
1. Alcohol wipes
2. 1 mL syringe
3. 18- and 22-gauge needles
4. Vial of testosterone
5. Mini sharps container
6. 16-year-old child
Transcending Boundaries
My diagnosis launched me into a world where everything felt foreign, even my own reflection in the mirror. But little did I know that that reflection would ultimately help me discover myself.
At first, self-discovery was the last thing on my mind. At age 39, I was facing Stage 4 endometrial and ovarian cancer, and, with it, my own mortality. As I focused on making it through each day of chemo, while struggling to heal from the surgery that had plunged me into instant menopause, I was more concerned about making it to the bathroom than about who I saw
Listen Carefully to the Youth
With tears in my eyes, I burst out of the classroom, seeking refuge from my teacher’s and classmates’ endless verbal battering of me. We were mired in a debate about whether the canon of religious music should be omitted from public school choral groups’ repertoires to “appease” students who felt uncomfortable with such music. The discussion was framed with a particular implication—that because of a squeaky and unreasonable minority, the majority of students were deprived of critical singing opportunities.
A Grandmother’s Love
My 18-year-old grandson was born with female genitalia and was assigned female at birth. He never felt at home in or at peace with his body, and he had shared ill-defined feelings of discontent with his father from an early age, before he had any vocabulary or knowledge about gender identity. As an early teen, he declared himself bisexual; perhaps this was a flare he sent out to test the family response. He went through a brief phase of “they/them” pronouns, before firmly settling on “he/his.” From his mid-teens on, he identified as transgender.
First Cuts
I don’t know how to describe the first woman that I ever cut into. Any description that first comes to mind is purely factual, failing to capture the strange combination of sensations that passed over me. The sight of her raw, emaciated body and bony limbs. Her otherworldly smell. The vague feeling of disconnectedness that overtook me.
