Can you tell me how to grieve in a pandemic?
Everyone is different; do self-care, they say.
But what if self-care is being with those I love?
Whom I dearly loved I have lost.
How could I risk bringing the virus to others beloved?
I am grieving but cannot grieve.
Because I love you.
Tiffany M. Shin, MD
Faculty Member
MY BRILLIANT, BEAUTIFUL, WIFE IS DISAPPEARING
STRICKEN
FRONTOTEMPORAL DEMENTIA
NOW I AM ALONE, CAN I HELP OTHERS AND COMFORT?
HOW CAN I CARE WHEN I AM ALONE?
I NEED TO BE LOVED AS I WALK THE LONELY PATH
TO MY DEATH
HOPE GROWS
I WILL FIND LOVE AGAIN
ENERGY WILL RETURN
I WILL HEAL OTHERS.
Gerald Lazarus, MD
Faculty Member
Two weeks into the quarantine, and the teenager’s recovering from a bout of bacterial meningitis he contracted before everything happened. He’s finally doing better. “This feels normal now,” the mother says, gesturing to the slender tubing snaking from his cranium. “I wish the rest of the world felt the same way.”
Gregory Plemmons
Faculty Member
Four hours after the surgery should have ended, my mother paced anxiously. “Should I call?” Not allowed in the hospital, we received no updates during the procedure. “They’ll call if something is wrong.” “I don’t want to annoy the doctors.” Grandma was already in recovery, it turned out. No one had bothered to tell us.
Allison Neeson, BS
Student
Four Months
Watching charts, statistics, news commentators
Wondering where my place was in this strange new world of
Staying home, begging relatives to
My first day back in the hospital
Realizing the cost
In fear, in loneliness, in too-early goodbyes
But I know
With hope and courage
We are finding brightness
And brighter days ahead
Emily Marra, BA
Student
She didnt know she was being, born in a pandemic,
a world where there would be no faces.
Where smiles wont prevail.
Where handshakes will be scary, and hugs would be scarce.
She only knew the warmth of the womb and,
now here she was in this cold dark world.
This cold dark world.
Saba Fatima, MD
Faculty Member
Brown like me
Amir and Sarah bounced off the walls of the clinic. I smiled and showed them my stethoscope. Their dad just lost his job and with that went his health insurance. He was grateful for this free clinic. I was grateful he trusted me. They looked just like me and my brother when we were kids.
Roshan Bransden, MS4
Student
“Mom, this is not your regular 77th birthday message.
My upbringing, instilled with your trust, faith, and values;
I treasure.
We clash, but our relationship is strong and lasting;
‘vergeef me’, when I hurt you.
I need you to know how much I love you
in case something happens, and I can’t come home.”
J.M.Monica van de Ridder
Faculty Member
2020 was supposed to be the year of manifestation.
A pandemic shook the table and brought endless devastation.
Tragedy took Kobe and Pop Smoke.
COVID took my stepfather and the rest of my folk.
As humans, we all matter.
But all lives can’t matter until black lives matter.
Tilicea Henry
Medical Student
He was tired and wanted to go home. This was his 14th hospitalization in 3 years. He wanted his wife, his bed and his food. We could always do more. He wanted less. The pandemic made everything uncertain. No one was wearing masks yet. But Mr C did. Cancer might get him, but coronavirus wouldn’t.
R. Michelle Schmidt, MD, MPH
Faculty Member
Vacation “Home” for vacation,
Working in, for, and from “home.”
Cooking added dopamine in dishes,
Cleaning is a new mindfulness.
“Zoom” is a new craving,
“Facetime” with family and friends is my free CBT,
“Old Fashioned” “New Yorker” “Netflix” are chips of micro-happiness,
Ongoing systole for hedonic treadmill
is now replaced with COVIDiastole.
“COVID” is a “Midas touch.”
Vijay Rajput
Faculty Member
On worn waiting room chairs, I held her thin, papery hand- gold band secured between arthritic knots. “No, you can’t stay with him. No visitors.” Isolation, protocol, pandemic- excuses that could not excuse tearing apart the decades of tucked midnight embraces. Milky halos encompassing the blueness of her eyes. A blink, a departure, alone.
Rebecca Tuttle, MD MS
Faculty Member
POSITIVE.
A lightening bolt in my electronic health record.
Covid – still early, we know so little.
Masked, scrubbed, extra cautious.
Quarantine.
Temperature checks.
Symptom monitoring.
Worrying about exposed family.
Daily Health Department check-ins
The national numbers have reached one million.
Days pass, my birthday in quarantine
My daughter sends a cake.
I celebrate being okay.
Karen Szauter
Administrator
She can’t stay seated, fake lashes concealing tears.
Her husband is at home due to the pandemic restrictions.
Oh, my baby, she screams, aerosolizing her grief into the room.
The diagnosis slowly bruises her mind like leukemia into her son’s body.
He’s our youngest. He still sleeps with us.
She wishes he had COVID-19 instead.
Benjamin Drum
Resident
I cut my nails to the quick that night. God forbid my body betray me or my family, virus somewhere I couldn’t scrub clean. The morning: first COVID patient, ICU transfer, her survival a blessing, her gratitude shattering. Remembering my oath, I leaned stethoscope close, listened, touched. Finally—home. Scalding shower. Called kids; dinner alone.
Sarah L. Clever, MD, MS, FACP
Faculty Member
I have a child, husband, elderly parents, job.
Work with colleagues, residents, students, and COVID.
Busy days…lots of responsibilities.
No more vacations, no more school.
Now fear of infection is the reality.
Now fear of infecting my family is the reality.
Have to stay healthy, optimistic, strong.
I am a mother, wife, daughter, and doctor.
Doris Lin
Faculty Member
My daughter just turned one. She likes to play pull-the-mask-off-mommy’s-face. We stayed home from March to June, took clerkships online, sat for boards, got a puppy, read a lot of Winnie-the-Pooh and Goodnight Moon. I became essential. I got what I longed for – family, and a course in courage, reflection, and how-to-be-a-Mom.
Laura Jorgenson
Medical Student
My grandfather calls my father for the third time. He does not remember the previous calls. He’s scared and doesn’t know why he is in the nursing home, even though this has been his home for the past year. He thinks the staff is keeping something from him. He thinks he may have the virus.
Olivia A Murray
Medical Student
… who said she couldn’t:
Survive medical school: “you’re not a good test-taker”
Obtain a fellowship: “must have ‘connections’ ”
Direct a program: “young, inexperienced”
Run a board meeting: “you don’t know enough”
…who cheered her on:
Holding her son, husband’s hand on her back, her father’s words remembered:
“You’re a strong woman”.
Taraneh Soleymani, MD
Faculty Member
Seventy-something, Italian immigrant, dementia. In the COVID pandemic, there are no activities, nothing open. He worsens. Me, a soon-to-be medical student, but the lack of an MD degree stings. I cannot help my grandfather, nor dying COVID patients. If I spent a year convincing schools I am qualified, then why do I feel so useless?
Anonymous
Chart review: 82 y/o female with multiple cancer relapses and a poor prognosis.
”I married my high school love sixty years back. We travelled, raised kids and are blessed with great-grandkids. I have had a wonderful life ”
She started treatment before I was even born.
I wondered if I was with the wrong patient.
Roshan Chudal
Resident
Our family
Moved cross-country to start medical school.
All day I learn science and humanities
So that I won’t lose my humanity
When my future patients need it most.
My wife,
Pregnant, nauseated,
Isolated from old friends by distance
And from new friends by COVID-19,
Somehow cares for our son without me.
No regrets.
Grateful.
Zachary Jensen
Medical Student
The wedding was canceled. A package came from my mom – two masks, one white with lace, one black with a bowtie. We asked our Medicine program director to marry us on the nearby bridge. We walked down the street, our families in our pockets, our dog replacing the bridal party. It was wonderful.
Sarah Rhoads
Resident
Balancing on tightrope
Rural America and inner-city staring me down
Death haunting those I love
Lack of hospitals- grim reaper looming
Family casualties in the war of inequality and racism
New threat of COVID-19- misinformation rising
The first medical degree- potential savior
A long path- bringing awareness hopefully home.
Evelyn Darden
Medical Student
His days are long at sixty,
As they have always been.
His eyes closed briefly between cases
When the adrenaline fades.
His cough is better now.
My time is still consumed by
Books and flashcards and
Mock patient encounters,
But I’m coming, Dad.
I’ll be there soon.
Winston Whiting Oliver
Medical Student
She’d only let her phone ring once before she excitedly answered.
“Hi, honey! How’s work?”
“We had our first COVID patient today.”
She sat down, silently.
“It’s bad.” He paused. “Don’t…come home tonight. Just stay at your mom’s for now.”
“Until when?”
“Until it’s over.”
“But when is that?”
“…I don’t know.” He whispered.
Estelle Vu
Medical Student
Sick teen, dialysis. Went to tell her mother: ‘no changes’. She told me the loss of an infant prepared her for this child’s diagnosis, and another daughter’s. Four months ‘cancer-free’ before relapse. Grateful for ‘the talk’… “it was OK to die”. I listened, thanked her. Through PPE, I touched her shoulder: “see you tomorrow”. Tears.
Don Batisky, MD
Faculty Member
Days after both feeling sick.
“You might want to get checked.”
“Checked for what?”
“I’m at urgent care- nose swabbed and blood drawn.”
“Wait there- I’m coming.”
He arrives and gets tested.
“Where’s my kiss?”
Kisses me rather hesitantly.
Nurse comes over with my results.
“Reactive.”
“For!?”
“..M. Pneumonia.”
We patiently wait.
“…..mine says nonreactive.”
Tiffany Rebecca Sánchez
Medical Student
Your wan face appears on my screen.
Disappears.
A voice I don’t know says something I can’t make out.
You re-appear.
You are small amongst white sheets and blue tubes.
Silent amongst beeps and alarms.
Still amongst calamity.
The heat of your skin after gardening on a sun-scorched day or making love-
a distant memory.
Nan Barbas
Faculty Member
Often felt helpless as a doctor. Hopeless, too. Par for the
course.
Unrestrained virus isn’t affecting me, though.
Watching friends and family on the front lines, exposed,
vulnerable.
This is devastating me.
The guilt feels quite heavy. Should I seek out ways to help?
Or do I indulge in the lack of personal risk?
Gabriel Sarah, MD
Faculty Member
For my patient, I act as their loved one.
Standing vigil outside a glass door,
holding their hand in my gloved palms,
watching over them behind googles and mask.
For loved ones, I am the sole soul
standing between their family member
and the dark cloak of Death
who paces the halls watching in turn.
Sara Journeay
Resident
Joseph Gascho
Faculty Member
We pray before dawn
Preparing our walk along the Rippowam
Protect us, protect our child, give us strength
Holding coffee and hands
We turn quietly up Broad
Protect us, protect our child, give us peace
We kiss before masking
I follow her tired eyes and growing womb
Protect her, protect our child, help us all
Ethan McGann
Medical Student
Two girls were born on the same day
thousands of miles apart. They grew up speaking Spanish.
Thirty years later, CoVID and pregnancy would bring them to meet across an ICU window.
Over shared prayers and a rosary;
intubation;
delivery;
finally – a crying baby at home with his mom.
It’s our birthday this week.
Diana Robles
Fellow
To our daughters,
We needed to be at the hospital – to take care of other kids – but you needed us too. Daycare closed.
What you learned during the big germ isn’t what we planned to teach you.
About Sickness,
Hugging,
Sharing,
Childhood spring and summers.
Smiles covered by masks, tears visible.
Love,
Mama and Papa
C. Paula Lewis-de los Angeles, MD, PhD (Resident) and William Lewis-de los Angeles, MD (Faculty Member)
Creative Expressions During Times of Uncertainty 