
- Vol 40, Issue 7
What a Dying Woman Saw
POETRY OF THE TIMES
She was clear-eyed and dying
when I knew her, soft breaths feathering
from her chest like distant smoke,
face bleached white as burnt out sky.
Propped in a chair, oxygen prongs pulled
to her neck, she commanded like a queen
for morphine, lobster, a second phone,
her mind still ruling an 80 pound body.
She allowed me to sit at the foot
of her bed like a commoner, let me ask
the details of lineage and disease,
revealed the smothering-fear in her dream.
And on the last morning, when I’d suctioned
dark secretions, she wheezed,
You’re a poet, aren’t you?
That was before I thought to write
more than a patient’s history in a chart,
before I knew what lets us breathe easier,
before their stories engraved me like stone.
Dr Berlin has been writing a poem about his experience of being a doctor every month for the past 25 years in Psychiatric Times® in a column called “Poetry of the Times.” He is instructor in psychiatry, University of Massachusetts Medical School, Worcester, Massachusetts. His latest book is Freud on My Couch.
Articles in this issue
about 2 years ago
Gender Differences in ADHD and Their Clinical Implicationsabout 2 years ago
Postpartum Psychosis: Improving the Likelihood of Early Interventionabout 2 years ago
Disparities and Opportunities in Mental Health Care for Womenabout 2 years ago
Adolescent Substance Use: Reasons for Optimism and Concernabout 2 years ago
New Research, Treatment Issues Featured at Annual Meetingabout 2 years ago
Analyzing SSRIs and Gut Microbiota in Major Depressive Disorderabout 2 years ago
Determination and Imaginationabout 2 years ago
Dementia Treatment: An Unmet NeedNewsletter
Receive trusted psychiatric news, expert analysis, and clinical insights — subscribe today to support your practice and your patients.