Your fingertips are highly innervated with sensory nerve fibres, for discriminating, fine touch.
You can't be a med student without marvelling at, and loving the human body in all its variety and exquisite detail.
But why is touch so significant? We all like to be held, to be kissed, to be reminded we are cared for with physical affection. Countless surveys, articles, conversations, thoughts, cloud up the mental atmosphere, and a large percentage of them seem to be about sex. Maybe that's just my age bracket? Maybe it's taboo, which doesn't make much sense to me. Sex is such a dirty word, but really, where would we be without it? Touch is a big thing. Anticipation, comfort, cruelty, caress. All carried out with your body. Reminders of your immediate presence. Removal of distance. Is it primitive, a sign of attachment, a remnant from our early months, characterised by silence? Instinctive? Lowly? I know plenty of people who disregard the importance of physical contact once adulthood begins.
As students we learn how to examine, how to percuss and auscultate, to learn to read the body's inner workings from the outside. Today, I watched a talk given by Abraham Verghese- A doctor's touch
He discusses the importance of examination, its place as a ritual and the physician-patient relationship. It occurred to me today, that my favourite part of medicine so far has been the patient interaction. For the time being, we aren't much more than glorified science students. I am reminded once a fortnight of how priviledged and trusted we are, despite our little knowledge. Patients unquestioningly allow us to poke, prod and question. Why?
Because they trust us, and that one day, their lives or those of their loved ones will be in our hands. That's quite a responsibility, but also an honour.
It's refreshing to hear inspiring people speak. I had forgotten how it felt to be inspired (especially once the inevitable rat race makes itself clear). The one and only arts lecture I attended as an Arts student featured the lecturer discussing why, or if, a table is a table. That's not a reflection on Arts, but it is a reminder that inspiration, history and philosophy aren't just found within the alternative arts scene.
At this point, I'm far too tired to express my excitement, and as usual my post has taken a rambling turn. But I see a beautiful sunrise every time my eyes begin to close. I've learnt more in these last two years than I had thought possible. We're never going to attain a stage where we have reached and created a perfect life. It's never going to happen, and for that I'm grateful. That's a futile dream, but also an uninteresting one. I'd only like for Love to be certain, no matter how or where it takes place. If I have breath and love in equal parts I can live.
'I feel a thousand capacities spring up in me. I am arch, gay, languid, melancholy by turns. I am rooted, but I flow. '
You can't be a med student without marvelling at, and loving the human body in all its variety and exquisite detail.
But why is touch so significant? We all like to be held, to be kissed, to be reminded we are cared for with physical affection. Countless surveys, articles, conversations, thoughts, cloud up the mental atmosphere, and a large percentage of them seem to be about sex. Maybe that's just my age bracket? Maybe it's taboo, which doesn't make much sense to me. Sex is such a dirty word, but really, where would we be without it? Touch is a big thing. Anticipation, comfort, cruelty, caress. All carried out with your body. Reminders of your immediate presence. Removal of distance. Is it primitive, a sign of attachment, a remnant from our early months, characterised by silence? Instinctive? Lowly? I know plenty of people who disregard the importance of physical contact once adulthood begins.
As students we learn how to examine, how to percuss and auscultate, to learn to read the body's inner workings from the outside. Today, I watched a talk given by Abraham Verghese- A doctor's touch
He discusses the importance of examination, its place as a ritual and the physician-patient relationship. It occurred to me today, that my favourite part of medicine so far has been the patient interaction. For the time being, we aren't much more than glorified science students. I am reminded once a fortnight of how priviledged and trusted we are, despite our little knowledge. Patients unquestioningly allow us to poke, prod and question. Why?
Because they trust us, and that one day, their lives or those of their loved ones will be in our hands. That's quite a responsibility, but also an honour.
It's refreshing to hear inspiring people speak. I had forgotten how it felt to be inspired (especially once the inevitable rat race makes itself clear). The one and only arts lecture I attended as an Arts student featured the lecturer discussing why, or if, a table is a table. That's not a reflection on Arts, but it is a reminder that inspiration, history and philosophy aren't just found within the alternative arts scene.
At this point, I'm far too tired to express my excitement, and as usual my post has taken a rambling turn. But I see a beautiful sunrise every time my eyes begin to close. I've learnt more in these last two years than I had thought possible. We're never going to attain a stage where we have reached and created a perfect life. It's never going to happen, and for that I'm grateful. That's a futile dream, but also an uninteresting one. I'd only like for Love to be certain, no matter how or where it takes place. If I have breath and love in equal parts I can live.
'I feel a thousand capacities spring up in me. I am arch, gay, languid, melancholy by turns. I am rooted, but I flow. '
