A reposting of words that have been resonating within…
Fragments of moons past sketch silhouettes of a scenery divine. A daytime reverie. Fond memory. A granddaughter missing you.
Do you recall, grandma? Long ago, a grandbaby born into an era of bitter lack, that enriched by your presence, comforting embrace, renewed to an age of precious worth?
At the time, suggestions abound. Work-life balance. Self-care. Hobbies. Remembering our initial calling. Remembering we still make a difference. Remembering our love for medicine and the privilege we have as caregivers.
But then the realization- I don’t know the answer.
I only know that I have witnessed around me- at every stage of training and practice- evidence of emotional exhaustion. Dissatisfaction. Disillusionment.
Many of you may recall having read these lines from past Thanksgivings; it is a retelling of a visit I had with one of my patients during this time of year—a woman whose life and struggles were unlike mine in many ways, but who nevertheless taught me many things about courage and integrity.
I hope you enjoy these words, and have a blessed Thanksgiving week.
• • •
Allow me to spin upon the spindle a tale of an encounter true. A patient once, a homeless mum, her words now shared with you:
The hour of autumn arrives anew when mirth and feasts abound. But let me confess my days to you, true gifts which have been found…
The steady cadence of my heart, voice to praise when souls fall dark, vision to behold each fresh day’s start- For this, I am thankful.
The assured exhale of every breath, joys gone by, its memories kept, cloth to shield from winter’s death- For this, I am thankful
Days when I can veil my cries, days I look you in the eyes, to know on night lies brighter skies- For this, I am thankful.
You already knew. Gaze unflinching, you told us to say the words.
Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis A. L. S.
Despite sparse questions, your eyes revealed an understanding far deeper than our answers- that with one moment, robbed were you of the years ahead, of memories awaiting, of stories belonging to you. Now lost.
Strength dissolving, your conviction remains unscathed. You savor each passing sunrise. Each caress, each step. For you know. As your legs cease to support, arms stop to comply, you still feel your child’s touch. Absorbing her love. Pretending you don’t care the roles have been reversed as you yearn to return her embrace.
As its hunger ascends, You treasure the remaining days. Every word, every smile. For you know. Soon it consumes your voice, drains your visage, until all that is left is the silence of a vacant mask. Unable to reflect your thought’s grin, your heart’s laugh, your soul tears as you blink away the moisture.
As your breaths increasingly betray you, you are not defeated, for the flames of your bruised spirit are not quenched, and you give thanks for the time you had, even as your body dims and you fade away.
Founded in 2013 by Phoebe Chi, MD, PhoebeMD: Medicine + Poetry is a health information and literary arts website that aims to inspire, empower, and inform through a curated mix of essential health information, uplifting personal stories, and original poetry.