Made Broken I wish they told me it was going to be so soon
Someone better would have said the right thing.
If only someone else were here.
Not me, her chosen reaper.
The eyes of the mother staring at me
Months later they’ll ask if I remember as
Are empty.
They do.
The painted-on expression is made impassive.
The rattling of her chest in the background of my
Theirs and mine.
dreams.
Grateful for square breathing from yoga.
It does not touch me.
Hoping that good posture is
That first moment in medicine when I was
An armor.
Made broken.
The rattling of her chest is just a sound.
Not me, her chosen reaper.
It does not touch me.
Months later they’ll ask if I remember as
I am untouched
They do.
By this. The rattling of her chest in the background of my They wait.
dreams.
I wait.
It does not touch me. That first moment in medicine when I was
I’m so sorry. I don’t hear her heart beating anymore.
Made broken.
The words are so quiet. Later they’ll say I was firm, though. It should have been more profound But wasn’t.
Debra Zharnest, MD
Pediatrics Resident, PGY-3 Robert Wood Johnson Medical School 27
