Peer Reviewer Emeritus
University of Wisconsin
Anna is a fellow in Hospice and Palliative Medicine in Madison, WI. She spends a significant amount of time cuddling her three geriatric rat terriers while reading books or watching the next big TV drama.
Caffeine’s effect waned, stomachs rumbled, attention spans faded after rounding on nine acutely ill patients on university wards. It was nearing lunch. I was the senior resident, so I chose the order in which we saw patients. As we arrived at our last patient’s room, I snapped out of my under-caffeinated daze and realized I had made the rookie mistake of leaving our newest and sickest patient for last.
When I am asked about my future plans, my response is rightfully met with confusion. I am entering the workforce as an academic internal medicine physician devoting my practice entirely to the outpatient setting. Yet, two-thirds of my residency training has been managing patients within the walls of a hospital. That disconnect raises interesting questions about my career choice, and, naturally, makes me an anomaly among my peers.
At first, my heart pauses: frozen from shock. / But, within a few seconds, I start to take stock.
A smear of what I assumed was cat poop obstructed a narrow asphalt path that led to a mobile home. It was raining. I tiptoed around the sopping heap of excrement. Behind me, the wound care attending physician followed.
I remember feeling resentful that he seemed too healthy to have come to the ER in the first place, while I, on the other hand, was shuffling around as if walking ankle-deep in wet cement, dead tired and longing to stretch out on the gurney in the adjoining cubicle.
I did not stay down / I did not give up
my patient does not have insurance / he asks me to address his concerns
Illness lies hidden in our ways / Influenced by the unconscious gaze.
I love working as a resident physician, but truly detest taking exams. However, life seems to only give you more of what you fear, so I recently found myself responsible for my residency program’s weekly clinical grand rounds.
Scared and frightened, we came in as interns / We had the knowledge, but we needed direction
Like most times on call, the day had been busy. / I’d been running in circles, my head in a tizzy.
I used to joke that after having my twin girls, my breasts no longer belonged to me. / Forget about possession, let’s talk about existence.
Resident Physician Contributing Writer
Cambridge Health Alliance
Originally from Madison, Connecticut, I got to experience a dynamic college experience as a Literature major at American University in Washington D.C. I served as an editor for BleakHouse Publishing, a press dedicated to using the arts to showcase the humanity overlooked in the incarcerated population. As a volunteer in a pediatric cancer ward, I was intrigued by the sentiments of cancer patients and their caregivers, whose descriptions of isolation in the hospital echoed the loss of identity and entrapment within a prison cell. From this experience, I was fortunate to publish an original book of poetry, Enclosures: Reflections from the Prison Cell and the Hospital Bed, taking on the voices of those imprisoned in the justice system and in the shackles of illness. I returned to my home state to attend the University of Connecticut School of Medicine, and delved into my passion for the medical humanities through the Arnold P. Gold Humanism Honor Society, research in cancer screening and immunotherapy, and serving the homeless population of Hartford as a member of the Board of our school-run medical clinic. I’m honored to be a third year resident in Internal Medicine at Cambridge Health Alliance in Cambridge, MA and to work at an institution that values medicine as an avenue to promote social justice.
