It has only been two weeks.
Okay, more like two mornings.
And yet, on a Friday night, I cannot stop thinking about the patients I have recently met. The glimpses into the intimate stories of betrayal, violence, compassion, and great resilience they graciously let me receive are reverberating in my thoughts. Some of these women are pioneers—one is among the first women who joined the U.S. Marines in the early seventies and paving the way for others after them. Another endured years of separation from her lover due to a homophobic immigration legal code in the U.S. There is the woman surrounded by devastating illness in her family, one of which is consuming her former abuser who is now dependent on her care, and still, she mustered the strength to enter the room with a jubilant gait and wide smile on her face. Then there is the woman who was sexually assaulted since her teenage years and throughout her military career—the assailants being her supposed comrades—and her body transmuting years of emotional agony into great physical pain.
Read full article originally published on Aspiring Docs Diaries