HEALERS

To look up, to memorize, to know

provides not for the patient

but for one’s dignity, pride, and ego

To listen, to empathize, to heal

are not expertise actions,

but shows that we too can feel.

He told me he had to become blind to finally see.

How profound a statement,

I learned that the voice of a patient is key.

Our encounter, though not long,

is invaluable and I promise

to provide an environment you feel you belong.

My progression

from student to doctor one day will reveal

that my dedication

will be to help others like you heal.

Irfan S. Habib, OMS3

YOU ARE THE SOFTWARE

Remember this always and with every patient encounter.

The patient never came to see the stiff ware encased in the EHR.

Your healing codes were never

Written in bits and bytes.

Your language has never been binary,

It has always been rich and extraordinary.

Remember who you are.

You are the true software.

You are more than a doctor.

You are a healer filled with dignity and kindness.

Your software is a heart unmatched,

A brain that cannot be replaced by AI.

For your operating systems are not filled

with ones and zeros.

Your operating systems are built on the rich

Tapestry of love and empathy and compassion.

A software language seeped in intermingled nerves and nano amounts of neurotransmitters.

A software language beautifully arranged with unimaginable grandeur and complexity.

You are beautifully created.

You are not the stiff ware labelled EHR

Turn around. Face your patient

Listen quietly.

Listen to really listen,

Listen to understand and be mindful

Of every complaint whether they be shallow or deep

Be in attendance.

Be present.

Palpate and marvel in every pulse, every breath sound.

You have 10 to 20 minutes. Use it.

Relegate the stiff ware to the minor leagues.

You are a major player in these healing arts

 Remember who you are – the true software. 

Kwabena O.M. Adubofour, MD, FACP

How Life Passes

Submission By: Kwabena O.M. Adubofour, MD, FACP

Image Obtained from: https://unsplash.com/s/photos/dew-drop-rose

Here at Daily Dose of Humanities, we strive to share content that can engage our humanity, our compassion, and our resilience. In our goal to prevent burnout, we cannot forget about the lives we touch on a daily basis. Our patients remind us how valuable life, and all the little moments that make it up, can be. Life may be short, but its vibrancy is so precious, and can never be forgotten.

This poem written by one of our founders, Dr. Adubofour, is honoring the life of one of our many inspiring patients. 

Death in the ICU

For this life,

This once vibrant life hangs precariously.

A drop of morning dew

Shimmering,

Brilliantly, 

Bright

An array of fading rainbow colors

At the edge of a rosy thorn.

For this life hangs precariously

Only to falter,

To drop and disappear 

At the whisper of the passing breeze. 

Kwabena O.M. Adubofour, MD, FACP

Hope is the Thing with Feathers

Submission by: Daniel Pacitto, OMS3

I was searching the internet and found a nice poem by Emily Dickinson, which I think perfectly illustrates how far hope can bring people in their journey to reach any destination. It exemplifies how we rely on hope during any challenging time in order to stay on course and keep our heads high. However, at the end of the day, we never ask anything back from it.

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me

-Emily Dickinson

Be Patient With Me

Image source: https://images.app.goo.gl/2B33jvaqFTAymy71A
I am your patient
be patient with me.
I come to you to ease
my discomfort with this disease.
So be patient with me.

I come seeking your understanding
and empathy.
Above all else, I come asking
that you compel your compassion
into action and be patient with me.

Come to me eager to sit down.
Eager to cradle my palms in your skilled hands and be patient with me.
As you really listen — just to listen to me without interruption.
Be patient with me.

If the eyes be a window into my soul,
then do please peer into my being.
For how can you tell of my disease without looking into my eyes - patiently.
Be patient with me.

- Poem By Kwabena Adubofour M.D

Flavors in Transition

Submission by: Anil Harrison MD

Image accessed from: https://www.flickr.com/photos/visionwithin/149553091

While sitting on my patio one late evening, I mused on the flavors of life akin to the changing seasons…

       Flavors in Transition

Sitting in the dark

the flow of a gentle breeze, the sound of crickets and a distant train 

The early morning calm, it’s freshness and a yearning for music of rain.

The summer has passed me by, I feel a wisp of cool around the bend

The leaves dazzle with colorful radiance,

And pretty petals near their end.

Soon the cold shall turn nature bare 

Though festivities and cheer will fill the air

With gloomy grays, the soul might despair 

Sitting by a fire, there’ll be warmth to share.

Flavors of spring shall blossom next

With changes….at the creator’s behest 

New beginnings, some a challenge while others a pretext

The soul never fails to rise, nor lose its zest.

The sound of crickets and birds, the heart shall miss

Moments in the thicket and abyss, and much more to remiss 

The seasons share beauty, with musings of bliss.

With every passing night, a day shall follow

To turn despair into cheer and wallow

Akin to a ray of hope that kindles one’s hollow.

 Life in ways takes turns in showing

The overcast skies aren’t done a glowing 

A story it tells without an end, an intent sublime and growing

Sitting in the dark, the breeze gentle and time’s aflowing…

My dawn has broken through and cherishes a’ glowing.

The Hill We Climb

The Hill We Climb” is a poem written and recited by Amanda Gorman at the inauguration of Joe Biden on January 20, 2021.

When day comes we ask ourselves,
where can we find light in this never-ending shade?
The loss we carry,
a sea we must wade.
We’ve braved the belly of the beast,
We’ve learned that quiet isn’t always peace,
and the norms and notions
of what just is
isn’t always just-ice.
And yet the dawn is ours
before we knew it.
Somehow we do it.
Somehow we’ve weathered and witnessed
a nation that isn’t broken,
but simply unfinished.
We the successors of a country and a time
where a skinny Black girl
descended from slaves and raised by a single mother
can dream of becoming president
only to find herself reciting for one.
And yes we are far from polished.
Far from pristine.
But that doesn’t mean we are
striving to form a union that is perfect.
We are striving to forge a union with purpose,
to compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters and
conditions of man.
And so we lift our gazes not to what stands between us,
but what stands before us.
We close the divide because we know, to put our future first,
we must first put our differences aside.
We lay down our arms
so we can reach out our arms
to one another.
We seek harm to none and harmony for all.
Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true,
that even as we grieved, we grew,
that even as we hurt, we hoped,
that even as we tired, we tried,
that we’ll forever be tied together, victorious.
Not because we will never again know defeat,
but because we will never again sow division.
Scripture tells us to envision
that everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree
and no one shall make them afraid.
If we’re to live up to our own time,
then victory won’t lie in the blade.
But in all the bridges we’ve made,
that is the promise to glade,
the hill we climb.
If only we dare.
It’s because being American is more than a pride we inherit,
it’s the past we step into
and how we repair it.
We’ve seen a force that would shatter our nation
rather than share it.
Would destroy our country if it meant delaying democracy.
And this effort very nearly succeeded.
But while democracy can be periodically delayed,
it can never be permanently defeated.
In this truth,
in this faith we trust.
For while we have our eyes on the future,
history has its eyes on us.
This is the era of just redemption
we feared at its inception.
We did not feel prepared to be the heirs
of such a terrifying hour
but within it we found the power
to author a new chapter.
To offer hope and laughter to ourselves.
So while once we asked,
how could we possibly prevail over catastrophe?
Now we assert,
How could catastrophe possibly prevail over us?
We will not march back to what was,
but move to what shall be.
A country that is bruised but whole,
benevolent but bold,
fierce and free.
We will not be turned around
or interrupted by intimidation,
because we know our inaction and inertia
will be the inheritance of the next generation.
Our blunders become their burdens.
But one thing is certain,
If we merge mercy with might,
and might with right,
then love becomes our legacy,
and change our children’s birthright.
So let us leave behind a country
better than the one we were left with.
Every breath from my bronze-pounded chest,
we will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one.
We will rise from the gold-limbed hills of the west.
We will rise from the windswept northeast,
where our forefathers first realized revolution.
We will rise from the lake-rimmed cities of the midwestern states.
We will rise from the sunbaked south.
We will rebuild, reconcile and recover.
And every known nook of our nation and
every corner called our country,
our people diverse and beautiful will emerge,
battered and beautiful.
When day comes we step out of the shade,
aflame and unafraid,
the new dawn blooms as we free it.
For there is always light,
if only we’re brave enough to see it.
If only we’re brave enough to be it.

Winter plague, Fall breaks

Submission by: Solomon Badejoko, MD, MPH

Original Image provided by Dr. Soloman

Walking down this cold lonely path home, I wondered if my efforts counted. 

I recall ventilated patients struggling with their own breath.

I saw healthcare workers struggle to prone patients, frantically adjusting pressures and giving medicines. Paradoxically, I heard their fear, and saw their thoughts- “it’s about to get real”!

Codes running, expiration time recorded and heads bowed for moments of silence and respect… The procession continued. 

Alas, it’s sunset. We tried. 

Destiny saved most but Heaven called the rest. 

Our efforts perhaps still counted. 

It’s time to unwind. 

Although we drop the stethoscopes, out comes the cell phones for nocturnal advocacy on mask wearing compliance. 

No time to rest. We will conquer this malady called Covid-TOGETHER. 

Suddenly the beautiful fall leaves hurry off the road in a whirlwind. 

Choppers’ chuff cry broke the silence, bringing in our rescue SEALs: vaccines

COVID no longer can stop us. Let’s go save more lives! 

Life: living in the present moment

Submission by: Annie Haji Datoo, MD

water, nature, blossom, plant, sky, photography, sunlight, flower, petal, summer, pollen, young, reflection, relax, balance, peaceful, natural, peace, training, blue, pink, lifestyle, flora, health, fitness, zen, relaxation, meditation, yoga, lotus, harmony, screenshot, spirituality, macro photography, position, meditation nature, yoga meditation, yoga woman, atmosphere of earth, computer wallpaper

Image accessed from: https://pxhere.com/en/photo/652397

Sometimes we need to take a moment to step back remind ourselves to focus on the present moment.

Here is Dr. Datoo’s take on living life in the present:

Life is reminding oneself that everything will be okay

Life is giving 100%

Life is staying calm during times of chaos

Life is knowing that everything will unfold itself

Life is love, joy, forgiveness

Life is focusing on the good

Life is not letting small things ruin your mood

Life is protecting your soul from darkness

Life is music

Life is taking a deep breath

Life is self-love

Life is a smile

Life is oneness

Life is hugs, kisses, and happiness

Life is self-forgiveness

Life is magic

Life is: fill in the blank