Local Doc on the Block
It has been about a year since we moved out of the “inner city.” It’s an experience we are still processing with many mixed feelings, among them relief, disappointment, and shame. It is a relief to be able to walk around the block without fear of hearing gunshots, to sleep at night with working heat…
My wife reminded me that it has now been one year since we were last broken into. She was partly reminded of this because our car was broken into last week, an incident in which only a cheap phone charger and several quarters were taken. This occurred despite having moved to a “nicer” area of the…
[This is an advance post in a series from the ESN blog. You can find the first part here or here.] In the first post of this series, I was ruminating about a patient who had a rapid decline in health and social circumstances, culminating in a recent scan that showed the possibility…
I stopped and put my fork down on the plate. There was still food on it, but an emotional force had interrupted my appetite. My wife and I had been sitting at the dining table, chatting idly about preparations for our child, now nearly 34 weeks old and still in the womb. 34 weeks. In the…
We stared at the piece of plastic and sank into the futon. Positive. We were sure of it even as our minds struggled to grasp the enormity and totality of its meaning. Positive. Were we ready for this, for anything? Positive. We were going to be parents.
“Hey, Bubbles has a gift for you. He’s been looking for you, since you saved his life,” my neighbor said casually. I was somewhat surprised; Bubbles (not his real street name) was a young man whom I met while administering first aid for an injury sustained on my block. Bubbles had a critical wound to his…
Baxter was named after a Puritan minister, and I am faintly amused by this memory when I hear him yowl through the bathroom door or when his claws clumsily scrabble across our faux‐wood floor. He is not quite as cute now, in the sense that his kitten‐like actions are more coördinated though less graceful and less innocent. Playful nips at our fingers now threaten to…
“He wasn’t a big time drug dealer or anything, you know? He didn’t have anything worth taking. I knew him.” My neighbor stopped for a moment, clearly shaken and deeply unnerved. “Why did this happen to him? We grew up together…” His voice faded and we sat in silence. It was twilight in summer and one of those ordinary and…
