This morning, I decided to channel my energy away from thoughts of strangling my attending (or at least re-doing her hair) and into more creative places. Hence, a poem for you:
O inpatient medicine, please listen to me
I can't take too much more of ACS and PE
Of blows to my ego, of sickness, of death
Of five-to-five admits, and of course M.Ed.'s
O inpatient medicine, send me a sign
You take over my life, and up all my free time
I used to have friends, and hobbies, and fun
Now my guitar gathers dust, and I can't hold my wine
O inpatient medicine, what can I do?
Your lights are fluorescent, your halls smell like poo
I'm ensnared by your monster, caught in its grasp
It will haunt me forever, till I'm old and sick too
O inpatient medicine, do you see those blue skies?
While I'm locked in this labyrinth, a part of me dies
I'm dreaming of summer, of drinks with umbrellas
But you're immune to my pain, and deaf to my cries
O inpatient medicine, I'm doing my best
Help me through these last days, through third year's last tests
Give me strength to come in, and motivation to learn
And - oh, fuck it, I've got just two weeks left
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1 comment:
Your creativity doesn't stop to surprise me :)
I am impressed (although shouldn't be).
If I ever had some kind of imagination and creativity, medicine rotation had killed it...
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