Ahn-tology

4:15 pm

Clunk........clunk.........clunk..........clunk........

The tired beat of my boots belied the thoughts running through my mind...*have to listen to lecture* *have to call mom back* *need to get groceries...need to find grocery list...* *need to respond to the email from morning* *need to buy dinner*.............

.......*Traffic is going to be bad soon* 

Clunk..clunk..clunk..clunk

Orange sunlight filtered through the hospital windows as I rushed to the elevator. Most of the waiting rooms sat empty by now--another day at the hospital rolling to a close. 

*DING* 

The elevator announced its presence just around the corner, but there was another sound. Similar to footsteps...but not quite. A more mechanical, abrasive beat.

Turning the corner, an elderly lady appeared at the other end of the hall. Hobbling slowly but deliberately with a metal walker towards the elevator. Closer than me, but also slower than me.

The opening started to shut as I slipped into the elevator. The lady appeared for a split second right before the doors closed completely. 

*Traffic, traffic, traffic....* 

The doors of the elevator opened again. My hand had pushed the <> button--acting independently of my mind’s focus on beating traffic. 

“Go ahead. Don’t wait. I’m walking too slow.”

The voice sounded resigned...defeated. My hand stayed put. 

Eternity seemed to pass as the sound of human and metal steps approached. 

“Thank you. Are you a medical student?” Yes ma’am. In my second year.

“Good for you! Where are you from?” Calhoun, GA in the northwest part

“Ah! I know where that is. Well you must be glad to be close to home.” Yes ma’am...was one of the reasons I chose MCG.

“I used to work here at the hospital, and I loved interacting with the students. But I had to quit. Now I have to use this walker, and the doctors don’t know what’s...”

The doors opened.

“...wrong with me.”

She hobbled out, and I followed in sync. 

“I wish you the best with medical school and beyond. Have a good day!”

She turned left. I turned right. 

A chance meeting. One interaction of trillions. But unique and special all the same.

Clunk.........clunk..........clunk...........clunk

A few extra seconds. That’s all it took. Perspective reset. 

A few extra seconds is all that would’ve been saved by pressing the >< button. 

Medicine is a paradox. Medical students rush headlong into studies. Bobbing up and down the rapids of information. Trying to hold on. Swept here and there by currents that appear out of nowhere and vanish just as quickly. And then, at the end, we enter a delta waterway of residency...and then we hit an ocean of patients. And everything changes.

No more lecture slides and books. 

Now, real humans.

Something as simple as walking. Taken away...possibly by age? Possibly by disease? Who knows?

Everyone is dying. Some faster than others. All of medicine is palliative in a fundamental sense. 

And yet, most medical students, residents, and doctors live as though death somehow doesn’t loom imminently over each of their heads. 

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Flamenco en Sevilla (4) : Asientos de primera fila.*

“Venga! Venga! Venga!

[Come on! Come on! Come on!]”

Like the siren of a passing ambulance, the voice of the doorman rose louder and fell softer as we dashed past him through the entrance of The Central Theater of Sevilla. To our left, an usher appeared and rushed us across the lobby and through a pair of black doors. Suddenly, we found ourselves in between a sold-out crowd and the stage.

Well, it was (almost) a sold-out crowd; somehow, two seats in the center of the front-row had managed to remain empty, and due to a lack of time, the flustered usher put us in those seats. Barely fifteen seconds later, the lights dimmed to black, and the curtain concomitantly rose to reveal an elaborate stage...

Originally, Josh and I bought tickets for seats located to the far left of the middle row. On the night of the show, we arrived about five minutes late to the theater – located across the river from the center of the city where we were staying –and we would have arrived too late (or too early) if not for a series of perfectly synchronized “If…Then” events:

— If we had arrived 15 seconds later at the Teatro Central de Sevilla, Then the usher would not have allowed us to enter the flamenco show

— If we had arrived 15 seconds earlier, Then the usher would not have put us in front-row, center seats at the last minute.

— If we had jogged for a shorter or longer distance than we did en route to the Teatro Central de Sevilla, If we had decided not to jaywalk across a six-lane avenue, If we had left the restaurant any sooner or later, If we had decided not to order an extra two dishes, If we had not arrived at the restaurant before dinner rush-hour, If we had chosen to eat at a different restaurant, If we had not woken up from our siesta in time for dinner, If Josh had not researched flamenco shows…ad infinitum…Then we would not have arrived at just the right time.

Flamenco en Sevilla (3) : Asientos de primera fila.*

Flamenco en Sevilla (2) : Asientos de primera fila.*

Flamenco en Sevilla (1) : Asientos de primera fila.*