Death is a hard thing to cope with. Realizing that someone you love has only a limited time left to live is equally as hard.
People try to deal with it in many different ways, and Julie Staub chose to express her feelings through poetry.
I heard Garrison Keillor read this on the radio today. I've pasted the words below, but I suggest you listen to him read it. Come on-- do it. It won't take long.
Just click play below and scroll to the 3minute 57second mark.
On second thought, that might be a lot of work so I guess I'll let you get away with reading it on your own if you want...
As if your cancer weren't enough,
the guinea pig is dying.
The kids brought him to me
wrapped in a bath towel
‘Do something, Mom.
Save his life. '
I'm a good mom.
I took time from work,
drove him to the vet,
paid $77.00 for his antibiotics.
Now, after the kids rush off to school,
you and I sit on the bed.
I hold the guinea pig, since he bites.
You fill the syringe.
We administer the foul smelling medicine,
hoping the little fellow will live.
admitting to each other:
if he doesn't,
it'll be good practice.
"Guinea Pig" by Julie Cadwallader-Staub. Reprinted with permission of the poet.
Crashing Jets and Birthing Babies
I started OB today, and since the day was mostly spent filling out and receiving paperwork about the rotation, I haven't done much in the way of actual medicine. However, I did come across this really interesting nugget of wisdom from the OB textbook, page 1:
Maternal mortality has been an under-recognized issue worldwide despite an estimated 600,000 maternal deaths per year from pregnancy-related causes. Put in numeric perspective, this is equivalent to six jumbo jet crashes per day with the deaths of all 250 passengers on board, all of them women in the reproductive years of life.
