As a Narrative Editor of Med Intima, I have the privilege of sharing the experiences and stories of members of the KUMC community. I’m so grateful for my classmates in Group 23 who sat down with me to reflect on their own journeys finding community during M1 year. Their vulnerability and courage are an inspiration to me! Above all, this piece seeks to remind us that we are not alone.
Continue reading “Community: then, now, and there”I remember it clearly; the realization of what death was. Every living being dies. That meant the most important person in my life, my mom. I was around the age of four and realized my mom would die someday. The absolute disbelief and devastation. I threw myself on the kitchen floor, completely inconsolable. My mom comforted me. I do not remember what lead me to this realization, perhaps our pet hamster had recently passed. But my mom? She would die someday. This could not be. I refused to accept this fact. Eventually, after much of her kind and soothing words, she comforted me, and I moved on. This was part of life and I had to accept it. Now at the age of 32, honestly, I do not think I really accepted it, especially my mom dying someday.
Continue reading “A Little Death”The girl in my bag
You are so ugly. Try to hide your face. If you peek out of that bag, everyone will know.
You’re different
Keep a secret. Safe inside this skin. Don’t let anyone know that ugly girl within. Smile as you belong, full of confidence, but hide that ugly girl, the one behind the fence.
The ugly girl you are, that fought your way to be
Pretend it was all handed to you, like the many you see.
Oh ugly girl inside, don’t share the suffering felt
Don’t share the pains of never loved, don’t share the tears you wept
Ugly girl just stay,
Inside the dark brown bag
That way no one will know that inside, you are just sad
The blizzard smothered the squeaky old subway as it slowly pressed toward the station. Nighttime had arrived, and the darkness was brightened only by a bit of shimmer from the ice and snow that stubbornly prevailed against any shovel. I rested against my cold, hardened seat, ready to enter this frosty wonderland with a new sense of excitement; I was going somewhere new. Comfortable in my alone-ness, I was quickly awakened from this slumber as I exited the station. I was lost in the city with every street sign covered in a white blanket that chilled me to my core.
Not long later, a shadow made itself out to be a friendly face, a fellow lost traveler. “Where’s the door?!” she shouted, her voice rising above the gusts. Traversing together, we found not only the door but also a piping hot pizza waiting for us inside; we had finally arrived. Thawed by the pepperoni and the conversations of those around me, I warmed up to folks who would become close friends—the kind that have you over for dinner and make their home your home—and experienced the deepest joy as I opened my life up to these new people.
Continue reading “Finding a Friend, Finding a Home”
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