Hello Patient, Goodbye Friend

He sauntered towards me with that look of amusement. My fear merely fed his pleasure. He was dark-haired and lean-built, with wide blue eyes reflecting porcelain. Hanging just above six feet, his comfortably casual t-shirt and jeans belied a terribly uncomfortable truth. He was a murderer, and a happy one. Today, I was his prey.

He knew that I knew. It made him smile all the more. I ran. I ran into the nearest building in hopes of finding a rescuer. 

The building was The Hospital. 

I ran through doors and empty hallways, until finally, I found a doctor. I asked for help. She smiled. She smiled pleasantly and led me to her office. I started to tell. But before I could form a word, suddenly he appeared. There were no steps behind me, but somehow, he found me. He saw the doctor, and she saw him. They exchanged familiar greetings. He takes his place next to her. 

She knew him. She was his doctor. 

Now they both turn to look at me, and smile. 

there are still nights i wake up with images of being a third year medical student

//

and i re-feel the shame and doubt that went along with my mistakes made and exposed and openly criticized

//

i remember thinking at the time- “what doesn’t kill me will make me stronger”

//

but in the middle of those nights when darkness feels to be my only company

//

i wonder if that is true

//

i wonder if maybe it’s just a matter of time

//

before the wound dehisces

//

and that scares me. 

it’s 2018 and i’m nearly one year older

supposedly one year wiser

but who knows?

growth is only measurable in hindsight

and even then, i can’t say that my vision is 20/20

it’s 2018 and there’s room for resolutions

symbolic gestures of bettering my life

but who knows?

it can seem better until you realize it’s not

by then, it won’t be 2018

here’s my bittersweet toast:

same dreams, same habits, and a new year to try again

it's been about a year since i first decided to take a semester off from medical school. at that time, the choice seemed like the most deviant and therefore "bad" thing a student could possibly do. to "leave the pack", to "stray", to "fall behind", etc. there's so many ways to casually pass a judgment by how we choose our words. //

but i did it anyway, and wrestled with the queasiness inside and the unsubstantiated shame i felt whenever anyone would broach that subject. the wrestle lasted longer than i expected. 

// but now a year out, i can't say that i would've chosen differently if i were back at that fork. that perspective  could never have been gained from a powerpoint set

it was what we called a “slow” day. only a few patients to see, to care for. only a handful of activities to document. there were not enough things to do, for once. i took some time to sit there and watch, to watch the hospital people. that’s when the hospitalkeepers caught my eye. the woman restocking the linens. the man making the bed. bathed in sunday morning sunshine. and i wanted to be there. it was such a lovely sunday morning, and hospitalkeeping seemed like the perfect thing to do on such mornings. 

but i was a medical student, and i was supposed to do what doctors did- to giggle and laugh with the other doctors and only do doctor things. and when there weren’t any more doctor things for me to do, i was supposed to go home like a good medical student. 

sometime down the curriculum they’ll have some lunch talk dedicated to interprofessional teamwork or something equally beautifully pc so we can all check off that we’ve learned how to work with people who didn’t do doctor things. i would wish i could have spent that hour folding blankets with the hospitalkeepers.

today i was nosy and chart checked a patient i had in the past. he had been diagnosed with a chronic intestinal disease. since i last saw him, his story has been one of EDs, missed calls, and no-shows and i can only imagine how much pain he's in in the interim

and how much harder college would be, when your guts feel like bloody fire

i wish he knew the importance of having a doctor in his life. 

i wish he knew there were easier ways to get medication refills than spending half a day in the ED. 

i wish i could be his medical student one more time, so i could tell him these things.

if i had a wish 

i’d wish for the last 72 hours

to replay itself a few more days

so i could relive feeling well

and remind myself again and again

that there was a time not too long ago

a year and 7 months ago

when nothing on this earth could stop me 

from hearing the bluebirds sing

dear mk, 

i keep speaking in roundabout ways

constantly gauging at how the other is responding

word by word, and the silence in between, before i would dare another sound.

i wish i could go straight from A --> B 

as linearly as i know it exists

as boldly, as directly as an American-cultured American

if there were a lidocaine for feelings and sensitivities

i’d be an addict.

with a frustration that is always out-of-proportion to reality,

dear mk,

lately i’ve begun to notice how foreign my mother tongue felt between my teeth, my pearly, Crest-covered teeth. on the phone with my mom tonight, i heard myself explaining over and over louder and louder again the same few thoughts that had arisen with me early this morning and which had been flickering in my face ever since. they were simple simple ideas, wrapped in plain simple english. i tossed them to her high then low, fast then slow. i simply wanted to tell my mother something. and she simply wanted to know.

for an hour and twenty minutes i tossed, those same few ideas i kept tossing. and finally she said no more. my brain’s not smart to catch all the parts. it’s getting late and you have words to study.

dear mk,

Here’s my first attempt at blog letter-writing. There’s so many firsts.

I don’t know if I’m doing this right, since it was your idea. I don’t even know if the title is how you wanted it. I had a feeling though that you wouldn’t care, so I didn’t call you at 0700 to confirm.

sincerely, 

I want to say I was happy today

For what? for why? I can’t reply

I simply felt un-dismayed,

I think.

I would like to say I was happy today

The day seemed right, the sun seemed bright

Yet

I hesitate.

For happy doesn’t quite like to stay.

When it’s gone it’s gone for who knows how long

So I wonder if I was happy today. 

The wish spoken is a cage once opened

Into an abyss unexplored before.

I know not how she will learn to fare

As she leaves this acquainted shore.

But once done, she’s gone

She will not come.

This cage her only token.

Lately I have been forced to define “good”

In the context of doctoring.

And it put me at odds with myself.

I think I believed in perfection,

However impossible that looked written out.

But I think I really did.

Despite working to become one, 

I always feared that I would not.

Then I convinced myself I could not. 

Not soon, not ever. 

Because “Look what you’ve done already, and what has been left undone.”

I would tell myself, just in case. 

In case the other me someday figured out.

That good is far from perfect, and 

it could

realistically

be me. 

earning a degree is not easy

practicing medicine, all the more

still the piles and piles of learning are

exciting

to the academic, the scientist, the doctor at heart

but there are those disgruntled

by the work of the profession they chose

and their patients, i pity

no one can serve two masters,

including your M.D.