“ Diastole. The silence between the dub and the lub. Over the past twelve months, I had learned to map and describe the various murmurs in that space. I had memorized the valve disorders associated with them. I had heard diastole, the time when the ventricles are filled with blood, on recordings, on a simulation dummy, and on myself. However, I had never appreciated it on a patient. That little space — which had always been overshadowed in my ear by the cacophony of my internal dialogue, along with a sprinkling of crepitus from my shaking fingers — now shined through with a brilliant clarity.
Never in my life had a silence been so moving.
“Ms. C, everything sounds completely normal. But is it alright with you if I listen just a little longer?”
Ms. C smiled and nodded. “Of course,” she said. “You’re learning.”