A Facebook friend posted a poem comparing election day 11/9 to 9/11. It reminded me of a poem I wrote back during my internal medicine residency, the 3 years of intense on-the-job training after medical school one has to complete in order to become a board certified internist. The poem describes how it felt to be a doctor that day. The day after the election, I had to perform a kidney biopsy and see my hemodialysis patients. It didn’t feel much different from the day of 9/11. But this day before Thanksgiving, I am trying to focus on being thankful that slightly more than half of voters voted for all of us and not for hate or just one issue.
MD 9 11
Human bombs
Exploding
Though I know no one
I ache
as if a part of me
is dying
My world’s fortress
Collapsing
While I move through
this day
Without so much as a missed calculation
And all at the speed of yesterday
Despite the numbness
of my body and mind
Display of emotion here
Equals weakness
And no one here
dares appear weak
Be strong
Or Mr. Smith dies
Be strong
Or Mrs. Brown cries.
Finally
They are all tucked in
For one more night (I hope)
Finally
I get a few moments
To see to myself
Finally
I get a few moments
To slow down
And so I sob out loud
My entire drive home
While all other eyes
Are on the road.
—Me
9/28/2001