© Amber Kulaga, BA, Patient

Out on the street
I meet serendipitous
twilight.
So rare of late
it feels stolen,
not mine.

I’ve gotten used
to driving home
with the darkness.
Calm and calming.

The fading blue
glow catches
images not seen in months.

I might be going
anywhere,
in this light–
or any time

© Debarati Bhanja, MSI

I will greet you at the shore, ebb and flow,
but through my murky waters, you’ll never see, never know,
the mysteries at the depths that lie below,
but I will greet you at the shore, ebb and flow.

I will greet you at the shore, day and night,
at high noon, myself, I will hide from your sight,
but as the light disappears, you will see me right,
and I will greet you at the shore, day and night.

I will greet you at the shore, toes in the sand,
together we will sway, hand in hand,
at the depths you have seen, swim if you can,
but I will greet you at the shore as who I am.

© Richard Cary Joel, PT, MHA
Family, Maria T. Joel, Department of Microbiology

I can see
in my mind’s eye,
a time
when faces went uncovered,
where smiles and expression
were commonplace,
and people could still see each other.

In my mind’s eye,
the world remains unmasked,
one inhales the air around them,
without fear nor apprehension,
and distance
is of no concern.

In my mind’s eye,
we only wash our hands to stay clean,
gloves and disinfectants
are reserved for the surgical suite.
and life does not look like a hospital.

In my mind’s eye,
children can still hug their grandparents
and lovers embrace,
family and friends congregate in close quarters,
and teachers
teach in a classroom.

In my mind’s eye
I can see a future
when COVID-19
will be nothing more
than a memory
and all of us will be free,
to be ourselves,
once again.

© Joseph Malone, MD
Clinical Resident & Fellow, Department of Neurology

One of the advantages and pleasures of being a neurologist is that our specialty organ, the brain, can be accessed simply by talking to our patients. Another important organ in neurology, the eye, has the special designation of being the only organ wherein we can see parts of the central nervous system. Vision changes are common chief complaints in the neurology office, and some of these changes can be striking, able to evoke wonder and fear.

Visual hallucinations have been known for centuries, and it was a pioneering publication in 1760 by the Swiss philosopher, Charles Bonnet, who described the vivid hallucinations of his grandfather after he suffered blindness from cataracts. The disorder that bears his name, Charles Bonnet syndrome, is seen in patients with severe visual impairment, wherein the vision centers in our brain tend to compensate with often elaborate visual hallucinations. Some patients report seeing flamboyantly costumed people dancing or little people like the Lilliputians from Gulliver’s Travels. There is additionally an Alice in Wonderland syndrome, where patients will see items in their view become larger, smaller, or distorted, as if living inside Lewis Carroll’s timeless classic.

Finally, certain epilepsy disorders can produce potent visual changes. For example, there are seizures where certain memories flash before the patient’s eyes. These so-called “experiential seizures” can be bittersweet, with some memories bringing a sense of nostalgia while others remind them of past heartaches. With these examples I encourage you to remember, the next time you read a fairytale by the Brothers Grimm or peer inside the wacky mind of Dr. Seuss, that there are people out there who are actually living in their own works of fiction.

© Dixie Miller, MSI

For all my life,
The new year meant a new start.
But more often than not
These brand new plans fell apart.

Becoming someone “better”
Often takes more than a list on paper.
It requires drive and action
And as time wears on my motivations taper.

I aim for a rebirth,
From caterpillar to butterfly.
But I’ve begun to wonder,
If maybe it’s the reverse I should try.

After so many attempts,
I have matured and bloomed.
But with each change,
My own identity seems doomed.

My mind is sharp
My achievements admirable and plenty.
And yet I find
My reflection’s smile now seems empty.

This year,
I resolve not to become all shiny and new
I simply want to be
The me that my younger self once knew.

A young girl,
Big heart, kind words, thoughtful eyes.
Even as a caterpillar
Her only limit was the sky.

© Marissa Riley, MSIII

The streets rest quiet,
but a storm rages inside.
Clouds cover conscious thought,
and emotions whirl in a torrent
that drenches you in doubt.
As uncertainties collide,
you choke from the force
of questions you can’t answer,
and the wreckage it leaves
in your body and soul.

I cannot hold you in my arms,
so I hold you in my heart
and hope there you can rest
as you find the courage
to weather this storm.
For the sun will rise again,
and so will you.

I cannot hold you,
comfort you as I’d wish,
so instead I cling
to the immutable truth,
that the sun will rise again
and so will we.

Judge’s Choice for Best Creative Writing Written by a Patient

© Ellie Cameron

Alone in the winter and cold to the bone.
A deceptive promise of gold to the bone.

The strain on the heart will take its toll someday.
Body frail, prematurely old to the bone.

Stones dropped to the floor of a porcelain lake.
Sickness, it grows and breeds like mold to the bone.

Left by disciples, Olympus has fallen.
A home, now a despot abode to the bone.

Falsely conveyed by cigarette aesthetics.
A story in a woeful ode to the bone.

Control was a phantasm that faded so fast.
Now I’ve run down the bloodstained road to the bone.

Judge’s Comments:
A Skeleton’s Ghazal goes right to the avatar of our mortality and stares directly at it without flinching. In the process, it shows us the beauty and fragility of what powers us.

© Jeremy Kudrna, MS, MD
Clinical Resident/Fellow, Department of Ophthalmology

lancet and laser
lenses and light
no wonder eye surgery
induces such fright

precise, still labor
finesse, our might
that’s ophthalmology
the focus your sight

relax dear neighbor,
thy cheeks a resting height,
from eye to eye
a new waking site

lie back like a stargazer
under a sparkled night,
wonder-filled fully
for this dazzling rite

music with color
will be marvels to cite
relish all merrily,
sweet slumber’s delight

relax and savor,
as we take peaceful flight,
today, an anniversary,
for a job done right

© Milton Ehrlich
Family of Medical Student Applicant

I feel the shape of my face
that is more familiar than
the one I see in the mirror.
I feel the scar on my lip that
prevented me from sustaining
high C on my Selmer trumpet.
My useless ears can’t hear much,
and my eyes keep closing shut
to avoid seeing the terrible news—
my vanishing voice now depends
on pointing with homemade sign.
I’m a crusty old cocoon, a silhouette
of my former self who always planned
to one day climb up Mount Kilimanjaro.
Now I can’t even clamber over the rocks
on Bash Bish Falls.