Inspired by the work of Rita Charon and the Narrative Medicine community! Sending you all a moment of reflection with the stunning poetry of Joanna Pearson. I've attached my recording if you'd like to listen as you read.
Ministrations by Joanna Pearson
Sometimes the gentlest patient
in the Emergency Room
is from the city prison.
This one too-soft-voiced,
lifting his large dark eyes.
He whispers "yes, ma'am,"
shy as a deer,
young and brown-skinned
with loosely muscled limbs
gangling off the bed.
His clean, uncoiled anatomy
is almost embarrassing against
pus & pannus, abscess & scarred vein-
everyone bearing his body
like some separate, stricken animal,
its disappointments inevitable.
It seems impolite for us to notice
the fact we are the same age,
his silver handcuffs, track marks,
the inefficiency of my exam,
a rising smell of hot dung
from the old lady in the next bed.
Once, when realms were not distinct-
celestial and earthly-
angels visited, god-wed
women ministered, bathed the feet of sinners,
doe muzzled the saints' hands,
and this would be the moment
of cloud-break revelation.
There are no figs or honey here,
just betadine and isopropyl pads.
If you have the time to slow down and reflect, consider spending a couple minutes reading, listening and discussing the poem with colleagues. Or write for 5 minutes after you read/listen using the prompt, "Today I noticed…" or "Did anyone else notice…?"
Be well friends!
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Valeri Lantz-Gefroh
Director of Communication Education
University of California, San Diego School of Medicine
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