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OR Tears

8 Comments / Poems /

Anne Vinsel

Tears in the operating room are different from tears cried by civilians, by veals.
There are rules.

A single tear from one eye is unobjectionable.
Two tears, either one from each eye
          or two from one eye
          are permitted if they are unaccompanied by sniffles.
Three tears risks discovery and humiliation.
There are rules.

The mechanics of crying in the OR are difficult.
You may not brush a tear away.
Sterile and dirty may not touch.
Gloved sterile hands may not swipe unsterile eyes.
Best to let your tear take a quick dive into your blue pleated mask
          which will blot it up before it can drop into the sleeping patient’s incision.
There are rules.

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seasons wang

Seasons

1 Comment / visuals /

Caroline Wang

About the artist: 

Caroline Wang is a medical student at Drexel University College of Medicine (DUCOM), completing the MD/MBA dual degree program. When she’s not studying, she enjoys running and weightlifting to stay in shape. She is involved in medical humanities through her participation as a member of Doctor’s Note, DUCOM’s a cappella group, and of Drexel’s Medical Humanities Program.

About the artwork:

“During my first year of medical school, I spent a lot of time, from early fall until the start of summer, with my classmates in gross anatomy lab. As the seasons passed, we delved deeper into our dissections. One day it struck me that our cadaver was a metaphor for the four seasons. The outward beauty of spring, when everything is flowering and full of life, is like the human skin. As seasons change, layers of the body are stripped away. Summer, when we are most active, reminds me of our muscles. Autumn,

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Giving Blood–and Other Acts of Courage

6 Comments / Stories /

Liz Witherell

I donated blood today. I’m one of those people who doesn’t shudder at the thought of needles piercing my skin, or get queasy as I watch the blood drain from my vein into the collection bag. It’s no big deal. I eat the cookies and drink the juice afterwards, and I kind of enjoy talking with the elderly volunteers.

I think I’m lucky. I know so many people who are sickened by the sight of blood, afraid of needles and terrified at the thought of pain.

Several years ago, a nurse-practitioner friend convinced me to volunteer a few hours a week at a free dental clinic. I took health histories and blood pressures. By the time people came to us, their teeth were generally beyond saving. Their mouths were infected, their gums were inflamed, and they often had other conditions, such as diabetes and heart disease. But still they’d put off coming to the clinic as long as possible, because they were afraid it would hurt.

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on earth as it is in heaven

On Earth As It Is in Heaven

Leave a Comment / visuals /

Trisha Paul

About the artist: 

Trisha Paul is a second-year medical student at the University of Michigan. She recently published a book based on her undergraduate thesis called Chronicling Childhood Cancer: A Collection of Personal Storiees by Children and Teens with Cancer. Trisha blogs about her experiences learning, researching and teaching about illness narratives at illnessnarratives.com.

About the artwork:

“I started volunteering with children with cancer when I was a teenager. My experience in pediatric oncology awakened me to the reality that disease can affect anyone, even kids. But the realization that terminally ill children face the prospect of death every day was jarring. I began to wonder what it must be like for people to face death. I don’t know what prompted me to take this picture. In retrospect, I imagine this is what death looks like, or feels like. On death’s door, the vast promise of something more (perhaps heaven) lies ahead–pure and

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A Grandson’s Tale

12 Comments / Stories /

Jonathan Gotfried

From my wife’s grandparents’ Manhattan apartment, I could hear the noises of traffic and pedestrians in Central Park, seven floors below. The sounds made a refreshing change from the beeping monitors, overhead pages and ringing phones that are the usual backdrop to my work as a physician in a large Philadelphia medical center. Here the only background conversations I heard were those of loved ones in the kitchen, not those of patients’ family members, overheard through flimsy curtains ringing an adjacent bed.

The hospice nurse quietly moved about the apartment. My wife sat close by her grandfather, Werner (whom we called Saba, Hebrew for grandfather), speaking softly with him as he lay there in bed. Our two-year-old son sat nearby, dutifully flipping through a Dr. Seuss book, occasionally drawing my attention to a funny-looking fish or tree.

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MRI of a Child’s Auricle

3 Comments / Poems /

Blaise Allen

From this view of your ear
I see folds of fissures,
curves of shell washed
clean by briny tears. I see
Three delicate bones of
middle ear: malleus, incus
and stapes, the smallest
bones in the human body.
I see angular vestibules,
skull and sockets. Labyrinth
of tubes, tympanic drums.
But there is no pitch or timbre.
Not one note of a lullaby.
Not even one tiny rhyme.

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You Have a Split Personality

6 Comments / Stories /

Raymond Abbott

I am a social worker working with severely mentally ill adults. One of my clients is Lawrence Walters, a small, thin man in his late fifties, very schizophrenic even while on medication. He talks about spirits holding him down, making him do things he doesn’t wish to do. He is impossible when off meds, tolerable when on, and difficult just about all the time. But at last I’ve got an edge on Lawrence–and it’s not because of any particular social-work skill.

Lawrence often asks me to take him places–usually shopping, but sometimes to medical appointments, such as an eye exam. (Lawrence is missing one eye, which some say he himself poked out when especially ill. I can’t confirm this story, however, and I’ve not asked him.)

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Meningioma Catenaccio

Psammoma Bodies with Whorls

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Eva Catenaccio

About the artist: 

Eva Catenaccio is a medical student at Albert Einstein College of Medicine in the Bronx, NY. “I spent my summer rotating with the neurology service. I have always been a visual artist, but have found that as I used sketching to help me study anatomy and histology I became increasingly captivated by the inherent beauty of the human body across a spectrum of function to dysfunction. I like to imagine the patients who I meet examining the work for its validity as a reflection of their own illness experience.”

About the artwork:

“This is a digitally edited reproduction, in colored pencil on paper, of a microscope slide of cells from a meningioma, the most common tumor arising in the brain. Meningiomas are usually benign and often slow growing, but their location can cause serious neurological problems. I drew this after taking care of a young woman with a newly diagnosed brain mass. Participating

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Perfect Circle

4 Comments / Poems /

Francesca Decker

“You drew a perfect circle!” she exclaims.
I nod and smile as I explain,
“Yes, well, thank you…
And now this circle is a plate.
Half is vegetables.
A quarter is starch or sugar.
A quarter is protein–meat, dairy, eggs, or beans.”
Now she nods and smiles.
We discuss her diabetes,
asking her son to help her do weekly foot exams.
She has lost weight.
I give heartfelt congratulations.
Before she leaves, my attending tells her
about a local food truck
selling fresh fruit and vegetables.
As she climbs down from the exam table,
she grins again and declares,
“Boy, I’m just impressed with you!”

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