Dear Standardized Patient Number 1, and Number 3, Mr. C from the 3rd Floor of the Reinberg Building, and Ms. P from across the hall, dear Mr. L from just last Thursday, and the Mrs. L I’ll meet one day, Did I ever say thank
Title: Mahosot Surgery III Medium: Oil on Canvas Size: 28″ x 22″ Date: Spring – Oct. 17th, 2016 About: Mahosot Surgery III was inspired by the artist’s time spent at Mahosot Hospital, a public hospital in the capital city of Laos. There she shadowed
Numbers and statistics may seem to be the furthest thing from creativity. They are objective and unwavering. Yet numbers can tell stories, and the pictures they paint can dramatically alter the interactions that physicians have with their patients. Consider the following example: Your patient undergoes
While the city sleeps tucked beneath a dark embrace my mind hears yours. Talk. I am listening. Though nothing but a frail soul beating in basement of cadavers answers. I know you are here. In the heartbeat of silence I imagine a house, a car,
Sitting on the high granite ledge overlooking the fog as it drifted onto the valley floor, obscuring the golden headlights as they weaved on hidden roads, carrying hidden lives, I finally felt a semblance of peace. I had come here to escape the tragedy that
Diana Anderson, M.D., M.Arch, is a “Dochitect®,” or physician-architect who practices internal medicine while exploring architecture’s influence within the hospital walls. She has written for architectural and medical publications such as World Health Design, Healthcare Design Magazine, and the Journal of the American Geriatrics Society.
For you I would spend the next four years of moonlight squinting my eyes into the blinding luminescence of an Anatomy atlas, dancing with the skeletons in my Netter’s notecard stack until they become like you, everlasting striations of my latissimus dorsi; and for you
Emily Silverman, MD is a third-year resident in internal medicine at UCSF. Last year, she started a storytelling event for physicians called The Nocturnists, which was covered by the San Francisco Chronicle in May and is described as being like The Moth for physicians.
After my recent month long affair with the kidneys, I decided to turn my affection into an ode of farewell, in the style of Whitman’s “O Captain! My Captain!” O Kidneys! my Kidneys! our fearful trip is done, Old heart has given in at last,
Deye Wei, M.D., is an anesthesiologist-inventor who recently received a U.S. patent for the intubation tube stylet holder, a device that allows for efficient intubation of post-trauma patients. He completed the prototype with his two sons, Chapman and Chaplin. Although Dr. Wei’s childhood dream was