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Metaphors and Medicine (Year III): Chapter 1

“Even though you leave the hospital doesn’t mean the hospital leaves you.” 
I have heard this countless times over the last few months in particular as I have ventured through clinicals. We get talked to about work-life balance, about the need to create a safe space for you to escape to without the weight of the lives on your shoulders. Yet, surgeons said they woke up at night wondering if their patients had complications overnight, pediatricians saw their young patients in their own children when they put them to bed at night, hospitalists rechecked if they had put in the correct medication order hours prior to prevent any terrifying adverse outcome. 
Yet this *pandemic* that I am so tired of reading/hearing/living/breathing/speaking about has made me think more and more about what that must feel like. 
I think often of the patients I had during my month on Transplant Surgery and wonder if their immunocompromised states have survived what we have all been afraid of. 
The scary thought fills my mind: What if their story ended? 
What if they survived years on dialysis, years of waiting for a kidney, only to be given the chance at a new life, catching a virus, and succumbing to that. I wonder if my patient who spoke little English was able to find someone to help her purchase her groceries, someone to help her refill her medications, someone to make sure she was still protecting the kidney that gave her a life again. 
I wonder if the child I saw on my Pediatrics month had his tumor removed. I wonder if he had more complications, if he lost more sensation. 
I wonder if the kids we took care of miss their friends and school. I wonder if my patient with severe anxiety survived being home with the circles of uncertainty booming from the TV and the social media that consumes our youth.
I wonder if the little girl I took care of 2 weeks for complications from the flu that left her requiring oxygen was able to stay safe from another respiratory infection that would leave her already weak lungs even weaker, fighting a battle they were not prepared for. 
I wonder if our sober patient who used to have an alcohol use disorder stayed sober or did he start drinking again to numb the fear he felt about the current situation.
I wonder if this is something one gets used to as they extend further and further into medicine or will the stories always linger, no matter how much time passes?

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