On Imagined Boundaries: A reflection on "the body as a narrative instrument" by Tony Errichetti

A medical educator reflects on studio art recently published in the Intima and examines the boundaries—real or imagined?—often constructed between mind and body.

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Waiting: A reflection on anticipating a diagnosis by poet RN Amy Haddad

A nurse, poet, and educator ponders the lot of patients—one that often includes loss of identity, dislocation in time and space, and of course, waiting.

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The Chance to Say Goodbye... or Not: Thoughts about being prepared—or surprised— by death by end-of-life doula Virginia Chang

An end-of-life doula reflects on their experiences with dying patients and concludes by offering three life lessons.

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Exploring End-of-Life themes in "Nay Nay's Rebirth," a short story by Sara Lynne Wright

A retired surgeon reflects on a short story published in this journal—and in doing so, also contemplates how a comfortable and humane death can be fulfilled at the end of life.

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Savoring Sunset: A reflection on saying goodbye by physician assistant Sara Lynne Wright

A physician assistant ruminates about the cycle of life, of sunrise and sunset—and how we can better appreciate each waking moment.

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What the Dying Need by Rachel Prince

Shortly after reading Vigil, I stumbled upon Sara Baker’s poem, “What Do the Dying Want?” (Spring 2015). In this work, Baker explores the titular question by wondering how healthcare professionals, hospice workers, or even caregivers and family members can properly address the needs of the dying – is the correct way through words and stories, reminiscing, music, meaningful touch, or just holding space and being present?

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Ways of Knowing (and Not Knowing) When the Prognosis is Terminal by writer PK Kennedy

"Right in here, remove your clothes. Underwear and bra can stay on but put the robe on so it's open in the back, not the front, okay?"

The words are coming at me in a torrent; I can’t understand any of them, but I know the drill.

I throw my stuff in a bag, take a deep breath, and open the door to the inpatient surgical waiting room. It smells like alcohol and ice and has no memories I can sense. Am I the first person that’s ever come here?

“You’re here for the lumbar?”

I cut her off before she could say puncture. "Yes."

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Written in the Stars: A Reflection on Youth Cancer by Will Moody

For every young adult diagnosed with cancer, a time comes when we ask ourselves a question.

Why?

Why did this happen to me? Why now? They are not questions we want an answer to, but as humans, we crave finding meaning in our lives. We do it because the alternative is accepting that cosmic randomness determines our very breath.

Why did this happen to me? Why now? They are not questions we want an answer to, but as humans, we crave finding meaning in our lives. We do it because the alternative is accepting that cosmic randomness determines our very breath.

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