A Little Death

Lindsey Glass, M.A. Speech Pathology, Class of 2024

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.

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.

Can We Talk About Death?

Ben Harstine, M4, Class of 2021