serotonin

Anonymous

For months, I’ve tried getting rid of the

demons that manipulate the marionettes in my

head, only to see those demons gave me

something to feel.

Something to get angry about.

Something to fight against.

Choose Humanity

Rachel Stetson, M3, Class of 2024

It’s 6:45 a.m. I show up early to my shift to get reports and collect vitals on my patients before the interruption of breakfast trays and morning rounds.

The summarized information I carry with me as I approach room 209: “72-year-old woman, here for GI bleed. Colonoscopy expected tomorrow, night shift will start bowel prep. Rheumatoid arthritis. Encourage Q2 turns. 2x assist, gait belt/walker, requires assistive devices to eat. Dysphagia diet II. Q4 vitals. Uses bedside commode. Expected discharge in one day if scope is benign.”

And the undocumented background given by nightshift: “‘Mrs. RA’ is VERY particular during mealtimes. You MUST cut everything up and put her “squishy” handle on the silverware. Her straw must point to her, and the drink must be on the right side. She has failed getting through bowel prep twice—so be encouraging today. Also, she yelps a lot when you try to move her, she’ll want to refuse Q2 turns. Her daughters will come in a lot. She likes a lot of blankets. Let’s just say she’ll hit her call button a lot.”

Confessions of an M3

Emily Rupe, M3, Class of 2023

The growth I’ve experienced since starting medical school is staggering. One of the biggest changes I’ve noticed lately is my confidence. Entering into the medical profession is intimidating, to say the least. Like many others in my cohort, I struggled with imposter syndrome. Starting third year, I fell into the habit of introducing myself as “Just the medical student,” constantly apologizing for being in the way. Although there should always be a sense of humility in the way we show up to learn from others, I learned to show up for myself. I learned to ask the resident if I can throw that extra stitch when they are getting antsy and wanting to get on their way. I learned to bravely ask the attending the questions I’m ruminating on in my head. One of my recent lecturers said it perfectly, “Sometimes you gotta pull your education outta people.” Your learning experience is what you make of it; how important we are as medical students depends on us.

la mer

Vinamratha Rao, M2, Class of 2028

as the sun glints 

off beads of brine 

braided in my hair

I watch from my boundless home, 

a prison at times like this,

as my love leans

past the shore

Shouldn’t Be

Simon Longhi, M1, Class of 2025

Wow, they really did it. Literally zero toilet paper.

Trudging into Publix Super Market on a beautiful, yet too-early morning in late March of 2020, I unrolled and tied my wrinkled black apron behind me as I looked over to the bathroom accessories aisle across Register Six. Barren. Edges and crannies of the aisle shelves I had never even seen before, now completely exposed. The coronavirus pandemic had just begun to settle upon a panicking Orlando, and it seemed that folks were convinced that this thing akin to a Walking Dead zombie apocalypse would confine them to their homes for weeks or months at a time (I guess?), so stocking up on toiletries was a scrambling priority. Brilliant.

1077: Slowly, They Will Know the Truth

Anonymous

I am almost always numb. When I can feel the pain, though, it takes control over all five senses.

Mostly my hearing. All of the others—except, I suppose, touch—become nonexistent. My vision is reduced to flashes of light and dark, obscured and blurred through tears. There is no taste or smell.

Pinion

Vinamratha Rao, Class of 2028

fresh red streaks in the snow-white bank

seeping through fabric stretched across her back,

scored for each round after round

 in this mouth of hallways eating a tail of rooms.

Surgical Reflections

Stefano Byer, M3, Class of 2022

The profession of medicine is one bejeweled in accolades. Walk into any physician’s clinic, and brandished on the wall are diplomas, awards, and validation. This décor is both of pride in one’s accomplishments and as a subconscious drive to authenticate one’s medical capabilities.

This framed décor is façade.

Seemingly Sisyphean

Stefano Byer, M3, Class of 2022

Now, halfway through the crux of medical school that is third year, I often sympathize with Sisyphus. I begin each week with new people, new patients, new criticisms, new stresses, new stories, new lessons, and once I’ve finally adapted…the next week beings—the stone rolls down the hill: I begin anew, and I love it (unlike Sisyphus).

The I.V. River

Stefano Byer, M3, Class of 2022

I am Mrs. A

Grew up in Kansas City

north, by the river

I held on to life

lifeblood coursing through my veins

through ups, and through downs