Diana Liu
Spring 2020 was
standing in my kitchen rinsing dishes
asking my roommate:
How long do you think this will all last?
It was the last week of February, and we had no idea
what we were in for —
her boyfriend admiring
our serendipitous toilet paper subscription arrival mid-March:
48 rolls, have you considered selling some of this?
It was overnighting a COVID care package
to my ailing resident brother in New York City —
praying that the Tylenol and Pedialyte would ease some of his suffering.
It was the stomach-churning roller coaster
of cancelled board exams, rescheduled, only to be cancelled again.
It was firing up my meditation apps and inhaling —
So much unknown, but pressing on.
Summer 2020 was
sitting in my bedroom
for my Family Medicine rotation.
It was asking my third patient of the day
Do you feel safe in your relationship?
and feeling my throat tighten
as she answered through a Spanish interpreter
Sometimes, less recently;
asking if she could talk more about it
No, not right now.
It was telling my preceptor the positive screening,
and wondering if the heaviness in my chest
was the weight of caring about my patients;
but no–
because I felt it again
as the text messages rolled in
while waiting for a call
from halfway across the world that would never occur,
Grandpa passed away last night
Dad found out while quarantining in the hotel
He didn’t make it in time
It was grieving.
Fall 2020 was
running between
the ED to find a generous resident
Could you please help put in an IV?
the CT scan room to find an understanding tech —
Could you please squeeze the patient back in?
the short stay unit to find a waiting patient —
Are you ready, Mr. C?
It was holding his wrinkled, shaking hand
as he teared up about missing his mom for the first time in thirty years
while the ultrasound-guided IV was placed,
and breaking the news a few hours later of an occluded LAD.
IT was reassuring my patient and hearing,
I wish you could be my heart doctor,
Chuckling and saying,
I’m only a medical student, sir.
But marveling, at the simultaneous
Feeling of purpose and peace
As I found my people–and home–
In the world of Internal Medicine.
Winter 2020 was
finally sitting for Step 1,
and vasovagaling in the OR five days later.
It was learning the hard way
to never wear bonus leggings when scrubbed in–
a surefire recipe for overheating and IV fluids in the ED.
It was being promoted
from overeager suction holder
to focused Bovie operator —
Have you been watching? Yes sir —
as a patient’s open abdomen case
took a turn for the complicated.
It was stumbling out of a 3:30AM code white c-section
to a friend’s text–
Hey, just checking in to see how you’re doing
after the Atlanta shootings?
Shocked. Frustrated. Worried. Overwhelmed.
Writing back instead,
Still processing
as I ran back to another patient’s room
to help bring forth new life.
Spring 2021 was
saying yes to operations and procedures–
thinking to myself,
When will I ever see this again?
It was observing a “shake and bake” case for metastatic cancer
from behind the anesthesia curtain;
Screwing in a 3D printed skull plate and
suturing back together the patient’s scalp;
Hearing my attending quip,
A little less Frankenstein. Yes, that’s better.
It was signing in for the last exam of third year
only to realize that
my pack of vanilla Frappuccino’s
was sitting idly in my hotel mini-fridge–
accepting the situation for what it was
and hobbling to the finish line,
eight very long sections later.
It was stepping on an airplane the next day
for my first vacation in two years–
breathing in as solid ground disappeared from underneath me,
and musing to myself on the exhale:
Still so much unknown, but pressing on.
