Early morning,
Barely audible over the din on the wards:
Lub-dub, whoosh.
So faint that I will myself to hear it
Recognizing that this requires practice,
For practice makes perfect.
Evening,
Not at bedside, but
Over the static of the phone:
A crack, waver, tremble.
The sound of heartbreak,
So deafening that I will myself to listen
The words cut through the pain.
He’s dying, she says. Her husband, my grandfather.
A world away, really, and he is there.
And I am here,
Torn between two worlds
Stuck in a space between the space
Of heart and mind.
For I am training
To hear a patient’s heart sounds, not
To be there for loved ones;
My presence should be natural, intuitive.
Yet you are a world away.
I am the not-doctor who cannot hear your murmur,
Who cannot be there for you in your time of need,
And I’m sorry.
Yet I must press on, and I do…
For perseverance makes perfect.
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Lee, E. Heart Sounds. J Med Humanit 43, 523–524 (2022). https://doi.org/10.1007/s10912-021-09722-1
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DOI: https://doi.org/10.1007/s10912-021-09722-1