The sky is still dark
It's early morning
The smell of dryer sheets fills my nose
As I grab my scrubs and head to the shower.
The warm water runs down my body
Drips from my hair
As I think of all I might do today
How to save and heal lives.
I've put in the work in class,
I've studied disease processes,
Their cures and treatments,
The proper assessments and labs.
It's all so abstract on the pages of textbooks
A disease exists as a concept in my head
The treatment plans seem so simple
And so straightforward.
In the simulations I've done
Everything is controlled.
As long as I do everything right,
Everything will turn out fine.
Now on the hospital floor,
I receive my assignment,
And the paragraphs from textbooks come to mind,
As well as the practice questions and simulations.
But walking into my patient's room,
The conditions and diseases I've studied,
Are no longer conceptual.
A living human being is suffering.
Checking the labs and diagnostics,
Just how uncontrolled real life is,
Begins to sink in,
And the reality of inevitable failure sinks in.
In the hallway I gather myself,
As I grapple with the new reality,
That I won't be saving lives today,
My assignment is to make what's left as good as possible.
My sudden change in perspective,
Is nothing in comparison though.
My patient has an adult body,
But the mind of a small child.
During one of my routine assessments,
My patient winces,
Unable to verbalize their pain,
They strike their head and cry,
"What did I do wrong?"
My heart breaks.
This poor soul,
Cannot understand that a disease,
Is not a punishment.
They cannot understand,
That something indifferent,
Without intent or thought,
Has begun to end their life.
How cruel…
All I can do is hold their hand,
Give them medications to dull the pain,
And wish that you could understand:
You didn't do anything wrong.
Jan 13, 2021
Jan 13, 2021 at 8:53 PM UTC
The sky is still dark
It's early morning
The smell of dryer sheets fills my nose
As I grab my scrubs and head to the shower.
The warm water runs down my body
Drips from my hair
As I think of all I might do today
How to save and heal lives.
I've put in the work in class,
I've studied disease processes,
Their cures and treatments,
The proper assessments and labs.
It's all so abstract on the pages of textbooks
A disease exists as a concept in my head
The treatment plans seem so simple
And so straightforward.
In the simulations I've done
Everything is controlled.
As long as I do everything right,
Everything will turn out fine.
Now on the hospital floor,
I receive my assignment,
And the paragraphs from textbooks come to mind,
As well as the practice questions and simulations.
But walking into my patient's room,
The conditions and diseases I've studied,
Are no longer conceptual.
A living human being is suffering.
Checking the labs and diagnostics,
Just how uncontrolled real life is,
Begins to sink in,
And the reality of inevitable failure sinks in.
In the hallway I gather myself,
As I grapple with the new reality,
That I won't be saving lives today,
My assignment is to make what's left as good as possible.
My sudden change in perspective,
Is nothing in comparison though.
My patient has an adult body,
But the mind of a small child.
During one of my routine assessments,
My patient winces,
Unable to verbalize their pain,
They strike their head and cry,
"What did I do wrong?"
My heart breaks.
This poor soul,
Cannot understand that a disease,
Is not a punishment.
They cannot understand,
That something indifferent,
Without intent or thought,
Has begun to end their life.
How cruel…
All I can do is hold their hand,
Give them medications to dull the pain,
And wish that you could understand:
You didn't do anything wrong.
77 lines, 353 days left.
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