Poems make sense of the world. Both the poem “Not Compatible with Life” (Spring-Summer 2025 Intima) by writer Caroline Slater and my poem “I Closed His Eyes” (Spring-Summer 2026 Intima) illustrate the experience of being a healthcare professional in a difficult moment. There is almost a disassociation that occurs in the moment for me, and perhaps for Slater as well.
In the moment I complete the actions that are required of my job, whether it is a brain-death exam, examining a patient in status epilepticus, or learning the extent of deficits after stroke. When reflecting on the experiences afterward, I find writing in first person after the fact can help better contextualize an experience.
In her poem, Slater so beautifully writes,
“I lay her in the bassinet...
I place her gently on the table”
My poem was written in a rare moment of reflection. For me, the thought of this child going “finally, to sleep” brought me peace. I wonder if it was the same for Slater with the last line of her poem ringing,
“I hold her to my own chest and wait
For the angels to come”
So often the act of being a resident physician is ‘doing,’ and rarely can I feel the gravity of what is at hand. Writing can help with comes after, when the moment weighs at your heart. Part of my hope for a sustainable career as a physician is to learn to integrate and process difficult moments. Slater’s poem gives me hope that there is beauty in the tragedy and that sharing these moments can ease the load.
Kirsten Meyers
Kirsten Myers is a neurology resident at the University of Utah. Her love for neurology came from a love of the unknown, and making sense of the unknown has been through writing. She loves going outside to bike, run and wander. Her poem "Hands" appeared in the Fall 2020 Intima
