The Things I Carry

We read an excerpt from Tim O'Brien's book The Things They Carried in class the other day. I have powerful memories of reading this book my sophomore year of high school. While we cannot compare medical school to war in any way, we were asked to use this chapter as a model and write about what we carry as third year students. Here is what I carry:

I carry my stethoscope, my reflex hammer and my tuning fork, but sometimes just a book. I carry my id, gum, tums, and chapstick. I carry my tattoo to remind me of the bigger picture and the desire for anther one, but also the knowledge that I will get through without it. I carry my language(s) and the taste of olivier, my mom's bread and my dad's grilled eggplant. I carry what it feels like to be outside in my backyard and the sensation of my grandmother's kiss.

I carry my frustration and anger at stubbornness and the tugging reminder that we are all human.

I carry my breath, sometimes heavier than other times. I carry guilt. I carry a headache. I carry my friends.