Did you See me Today?

Alix Pupo Wiss

Did you see me today?

Doctor?

Which patient was I?

The older gentleman with tar lungs and tired eyes?

Or the preteen with pigtails

Recounting my first true horror?

Will you remember me tomorrow, or next year?

Will you tell my story?

Not at a cocktail party while boasting of your acumen,

But to your husband, when you ponder your fortunes. 

Was I just a patient in your exam room

Or am I an acquaintance now cozy in your mind?

I presented with my complaint

And you molded it your script

To arrive at a conclusion

To solve our mutual problem.

But did you listen?

Did you hear my voice,

Worn down daily by circumstance?

Did you hear that phrase I used?

“Aching pain”

Do you know what that means?

No, how could you know?

When you toil unexpectedly through life

That ache becomes your dialect.

A twang acquired unwittingly through strife. 

I know you heard the crackles in my lungs;

I doubt you heard the evening whispers 

where smoke turned into moonlit clouds.

I know you felt my pulse race;

But can you discern my daughter’s birthday from my mother’s last day

By cursory cardiac auscultation?

As the winter breeze whooshes like a murmur through my heart,

Could you smell the wafting spice on the wind?

My skin has seldom been so meticulously observed,

Yet those wrinkles and moles map constellations across my human sky

The depth of my universe behind them. 

You have looked deeper into my eyes today than my wife ever did,

But did you see me?

Alix is a third-year medical student in the PURCH track at UMass. My professional interests include justice-based medicine and global health, and outside of work and school I enjoy playing music and learning languages.