Milestones
Wrinkly face and wonky head; I support your wobbly neck. No matter the emotion, you respond with a cry.
Wrinkly face and wonky head; I support your wobbly neck. No matter the emotion, you respond with a cry.
It was the most joyful of times. It was the most horrific of times. A week before my first child was born,
an act of terror occurred on the other side of the world.
Hello, come in, / and welcome to peds clinic! / My attention is on you / for the next 20 minutes.
Your mom gets tetanus (Tdap) / before you’re born, / Plus COVID and flu / are the norm.
My husband and I were pregnant with a child / Then we found out something wild. / I am a carrier of SMA / And this affects me in almost no way.
Don’t you forget the first day of life, / You had turned upside down / And a tight slap upon your backside / Even to get you to breathe!
End-stage starvation is rare, but devastating. After exhausting its fat stores, the body breaks down its organs for energy: muscle, liver, kidney and finally the heart. The blood itself becomes toxic, in a dangerously narrow balance between brain death and cardiac arrest. As a pediatrician, I wish to protect all children from these symptoms. But as an American taxpayer, I worry about my contribution to the starvation of children in Yemen. President Biden recently announced …
A flicker on the screen of the heartbeat, the first glimpse of my baby, I cry at the possibility of new life // An empty ultrasound, no heartbeat, a young mom cries; discovery of death amidst life.
“Every one of these patients should terrify you,” the fellow said. I thought he was just being dramatic.
Thinking back to January 2020, I recalled the whispers throughout the hospital of the first confirmed case of COVID-19 in the United States, mere minutes from my home institution. Aside from my perspective as a pediatrician, I was also forced to confront my own anxieties regarding exposure to this virus as an adult living with repaired congenital heart disease.
Today, I made a two-year-old cry because I wanted to look into his eyes to rule out vision-threatening disease. The light was too bright, the lens was too close, and the attention was too much.
Softly and subtly, the rustling of the leaves quickens and a cool breeze sweeps across the town. A child rocks gently on a swing and a father stands in the bazaar bartering for the best value for vegetables for dinner. His wife is hospitalized with hemorrhagic dengue; shivering with fevers that rise and fall as do her blood counts.