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The Ultrasound: A Palliative Remedy Mili Dave A soft knock on the door Turning the steel handle with purpose, yet hesitant We file into the darkened room Illuminated by the glow of a screen Waiting to display the image That simply cannot be expressed by emotion There you lay, vulnerable Sheathed from the jarring inevitable by the delicate paper gown The probe positioned Set to navigate the folds of hopeful maternity You scour the stagnant screen with a glimmer in your eyes The probe was meticulously recast Deep down we all knew the truth Bound by a collective humanity The one that lets technology convey what we can never say An inky mass Was all that was left Of a life, of a love, of a dream never materialized Medicines prescribed and regimens outlined An infallible concoction to bury the scars and pangs As the probe shuts off with a definitive click So does the trace of a glimmer in your eyes You gaze down to the gown Swathing the body longing for motherhood The prescription is lacking, you say What of my heart? But we slip out the door and leave it ajar On to cure the next with our art We navigate the day reveling in this precision-based care But do we realize, a palliative remedy is all we can fare?
-Mili Dave is a junior from Cary, NC, pursuing majors in Biology and Chemistry and a minor in Medical Anthropology.-
