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.-