I remember how he looked: thin-skinned and pale like parchment. By this point, “Jim” hadn’t any oral liquids for about 12hr and his mouth had a thick and viscous film behind cracked lips. His eyes remained sharp. He spoke with the compensated effort of chronic bronchitis. Each breath a few gasped syllables.
I spent the past 48hrs traveling to, relaxing in, and returning from Conway, NH.
This week of nights has been good to me. The past few days felt more like a vacation than the beginning of the end for Internal Medicine.
Camille Imbo! Camille is a 25yo fourth year medical student, an older sister, and a black woman. I met her during a SELECT session this year and the rawness of her laugh put her on my radar. During this conversation, we discuss the importance of names and how they change identity, the politicization of blackness, the inseparable mix of purpose and potential, and the soulmate bond between herself and her grandmother.
I hope you enjoy! 🙂
I’ve noticed time moving differently. Faster.
There’s a level of pain and anguish that is necessary for profound change. You don’t give up smoking after a pack a day for fifteen years because of a television commercial. You don’t begin a movement journey after a decade of couch-based deconditioning because of a post on social media. A relative low in order to get the shock to change.
This week, I’ve held one family meeting, one end of life discussion, and received some heartening feedback from a preceptor.