When you saw that first slice through a cadaver, you felt something. It showed. I felt it, too.
When you set up your first IV, your hands shook. You tried to hide it, but I saw.
When you held the sick child in your arms, your heart despaired. I knew because mine did the same.
When you witnessed your first death, your face gave nothing away. Neither did mine. You probably broke, as I did, but you didn’t tell.
I held the sorrow just like you. But I won’t tell.
I’ll keep it buried in my heart. Just like you.
With every prick, every cut, every child, every life, I’ll feel the same. So will you.
But with every prick, every cut, every child, every life, I’ll hide. So will you.
And slowly, but surely, I’ll forget that you feel the same.
And slowly, but surely, I’ll believe that I’m the only one feeling this way. Just like you.
Posted by Robin Kuriakose
Medical school is tough, even tougher is residency. sometimes we need to hear that voice of inspiration and excitement we carried before entering the journey.
The goal of WhiteCoated is to allow medical students and residents to contribute anything ranging from art to articles to podcasts that help others learn more about the field or rediscover their passion with the goals of bettering themselves and thus enhancing the care of their patients.