The Healer's Art • 2017 • Inaugural Issue 1

to become different by eating the ants. So what of our Jesse
pursuit of uniqueness? It can hardly be called rational. Becky, MS2
It has strong roots in selfishness and insecurity. It has
nothing to do with feelings towards others. It doesn’t So we walk out of the restaurant, my friend, her boy-
help them. Is uniqueness good? friend, and me. I see a woman in a light gray hoodie,
As he approached the tree he was accustomed with the hood on, ask them for food. “We have left-
to sleeping in he realized he was not alone. That is, over shrimp,” my friend says. The woman apologizes
there was no body but him and the banana he had profusely saying that she has a seafood allergy and
been eating for the last several steps. He looked up at thanks them for their time. So far, this seems like a
the moon before climbing the tree, but as he chewed typical encounter with a homeless person that I’ve had
all he could see was thick cloud cover with a consis- countless times before in Baltimore. We can’t give ev-
tent, grey glow behind it. The peel was lightly tossed ery homeless person we meet food or money with our
to the side of the tree before he climbed up and fell own limited budget.
asleep.
Something tugs at my heart and I pause on the street;
◆◆◆ something about the way she just wanted food and
didn’t ask for money. She must have been hungry, and
it sucks to be hungry. I watch my friend and her boy-
friend walk away, and the homeless woman heads in
the opposite direction. Except, after 4 or 5 steps, she
slows down, comes to a stop, and sinks her face in her
hands.

I came to medical school to ease human suffering, and
there it was: under the streetlamp in the inner har-
bor, a woman was suffering deeply in front of me. I’m
not wearing my short white coat, but I know I have
to do something. I go up to her and agree to buy her
a meal. Before anything else, I notice her edematous
hands and ask, “Oh my god. Are you okay? Those look
infected!” She tells me without hesitation, “I’m a drug
abuser. I’m going to the ER tonight.” “That’s okay,” I
say, “You should get those checked out.” I tell her I am
a medical student, and her face lights up. She leads me
behind a building, and I start feeling nervous that she
is going to show me a really sick person laying on their
side. I wouldn’t know what to do if she had; probably
try to get him or her to a real doctor. Instead, she lifts
her shirt and tells me she has a rash. She thinks they
are spider bites. “They kind of look like bedbug bites
to me,” I say. She says, “Well, my husband and I live

49The Healer’s Art ◆ 2017

on the street. We’re homeless, so…” I begin to feel em- “Why?” (I had just bought her food, and I was puz-
barrassed, but she doesn’t make me feel badly about it. zled.) “Do you need it to get on the bus to the ER?”
She agrees that after a meal she will head over to see “No…we need in case I don’t get admitted.”
a doctor.

At CVS, she doesn’t take long to pick out 2 Lunchables “Oh, so, like for the bus to the shelter for a place to
(“My husband and I are big kids at heart”), a large blue stay?”
Gatorade, and a stick of men’s deodorant. While we “No, we need it so we are taken care of in the morning,
are waiting in line, she shares everything with me. I if we don’t get admitted”
don’t really ask her to, but she opens up, as if she’s just “Oh…! Ohhhhh…”
happy that someone is listening. “Yeah.”
Jesse was doing fairly well and was a certified medi- I don’t feel okay with giving her money if I know it will
cal assistant until 2010 when her father passed away. go to drugs, even if it is just to curb the withdrawal
Distressed, she turned to “the wrong kind of friends” symptoms. It just doesn’t feel right. I give her a hug
who introduced her to heroin. She said she met her goodbye. She tells me she is usually in the same place,
husband at a rehab center when they were both clean. in front of the Chik-fil-a (The same one that she is for-
When her husband became injured last year, he was bidden to enter – a story I don’t ask about).
treated with narcotics at the hospital and they both re- I ask Jesse if she’s ready to get clean again. “It’s okay
lapsed soon after. “I don’t lie,” said Jesse, though I had if you’re not ready,” I add. She tells me she absolutely
not accused her of it. After we check out, she takes me is, but something in me senses that this answer was
to her husband a block away. He is a bearded man, mostly for me. We agree that the best next step is to
hunched over with a sign covering his face that asks ask for resources at the ER. I have no idea if she will
for assistance. I feel a little unsettled at how he looks follow through. It feels important, though, the con-
like every other homeless man whose eyes I avert on nection I had with Jesse. With cautious optimism, I
the way to class. hope to see her one day at the grocery store and not be
After meeting her husband, Jesse and I start walking able to recognize her because at that point of her life,
together, and many thoughts come to me. I feel really she will have recovered.
badly for Jesse. I want to give her my extra blanket I
have under my bed because it is starting to get chilly.
But would it be wise to show a stranger where I live?
Should I give her the $20 in my wallet I got from a
healthy volunteer study for hepatitis B? God, I think,
if I were her, I’d just want to take a long warm shower.
Should I offer that to her? That doesn’t sound appro-
priate. Maybe not.

Before I can go on with my thoughts, Jesse says she
has to go.

“We need to get $2,” says Jesse. (I assume from pan-
handling)

50 The Healer’s Art ◆ 2017

Believing is Healing
Sandra M. Quezada, Faculty
51The Healer’s Art ◆ 2017

They said that the world was dangerous, that There is Hope
We needed to turn our backs and J.M. Blake, MS1
Cover our eyes to keep out the hatred.
They enclosed us in the dark reality that is our collec- Thursday, May 4, 2017
tive mind, and Today was a rough day. A tough day. A get in bed, put
They talked of shadows in such great detail that we the covers over your head and sleep it off type of day.
swore we saw them. Today, I was hurt. I was confused. I was angry. I was
unfocused. I was unhinged. I just…was.
But, I swear, I see a faint orange glow in the small space As a public health researcher, medical student/future
between my fingers. physician, but, mostly as a human being and citizen of
As I remove my hands and blink my eyes, the US I am appalled. I am shocked and NEED some-
I see the most beautiful, overwhelming rays of light one, anyone to help me understand why and how the
dancing on the edge of my eye lashes. House has chosen to adopt a plan that undermines ev-
As my vision adjusts, I see a world full of erything I stand for and everything I have learned in
Smiles and embraces and families and an infinite, all- my health career.
enveloping love.
Everything.
The world is not dark. Health care is and always will be a universal right. Al-
We’ve just been told not to open our eyes. ways. So, I was pissed today; blinded by fear, sadness,
and confusion. I sat trembling with a bubbling tena-
The Travel Ban cious fire roaring inside juxtaposed against a chilling
Kamilia Butler-Peres, MS2 numbness. Oh, the irony.
I spent most of my day like this, wondering if hope was
lost for good. Would the Senate follow in the House’s
steps or would they look at the health bill and see the
sham that it is? Is there a way out of this and how?

Hope seemed to be floating away in the wind like
those dandelion seeds you blow in the summer.

Then, I walked my way over to Carter Memorial
Church to attend a town hall meeting held by Uni-
versity of Maryland, Baltimore President, Dr. Perman
(my idol) and University of Maryland Medical Center
President & CEO, Dr. Sunta. Just a few minutes after
I sat down in the glorious sanctuary, my eyes welled
up with tears. I looked around and saw the commu-

52 The Healer’s Art ◆ 2017

nity members, university big wigs, and people from all church in West Baltimore? Here was the hope that our
walks of life gathered for this meeting. I began to cry. nation needed that evening. The two top executives of
our campus were here in the community listening to
the community’s vision for their health and education
and taking steps to fulfill their vision. On a day when
healthcare was seemingly in shambles, hope lied here.

I was visibly at a loss for words as I explained to my With people like Drs. Perman and Sunta (as well as
friends that I had never seen a university (and its lead- institutions like UMB/UMMC) leading our health
ers) so dedicated to understanding the community’s systems there is hope. Despite what may come in the
needs and immersing itself into said community. coming months and years, there is hope. Dedicated
The town hall commenced and the leaders of our Uni- health professionals and community focused leaders
versity and hospital system listened to each and every will ensure that hope never dies. No matter what the
member of the community’s addressed concerns and law of the land is, those of us who love our work and
needs. They welcomed and received criticism and sug- the communities we serve will never back down. We
gestions for improving their work. They offered sug- will continue to work hand in hand with our patients,
gestions for ways to address community concerns and listening to their concerns, and meeting their needs.
pointed community members to resources that al-
ready addressed these concerns. They heard the com- Hope will always lie here.
munity.

Listened. Engaged. Reassured. Directed.
Their passion and dedication to serving the commu-
nity of West Baltimore was genuine and true. When
asked how they could help us med students start a free
interprofessional student run clinic, they replied to me
by saying, “before you all leave, schedule a meeting.”
They stayed well after the end of the panel and sched-
uled individual meetings with community members
and local/state leadership.
See, all day I had been distraught about the state of
our country’s healthcare system, yet who knew that
the hope I needed was in at a town hall meeting in a

53The Healer’s Art ◆ 2017

The Tourist
Jessica Chaffkin, MS4

I thought I had to lose my ways to understand
I thought I had to not be shocked
I thought I had to play it cool
And so I did
But I will continue to be a tourist until I am myself
Of course I will adapt
And learn customs
But I can remain shocked about the lack of grocery stores
About the masses of people on their porches throughout the day
About the man who was shot only to be discovered by police 5 hours later
About the glass windows up in every store making ordering a soda like being at a jail visitation
About the rudeness that haunts Pete as he works 12 hour days to provide for his family
About the lack of black businesses in an area where every customer is black
About the woman who is picked up on the corner and amazingly returned in 15 minutes over
and over again
And yet I do not become shocked when the man who could barely afford his lunch gives his left-
over change to the homeless man on the bench
Or the man who stops in his tracks to help a family push a couch through their narrow doorway
Or the woman who knocks on her neighbors’ door to let them know their gate is open so they
can avoid intrusions
Or the man who spends all day taking buses to multiple agencies just to clear his name for a war-
rant out for a different Mr. William Smith
Because I am never shocked by humanity
I am a human not a tourist
And I am allowed to be shocked by things that vary hugely
Between the world I grew up in
And the world I encountered later in life
Because the humanity does not vary
And yet lives play out very differently

54 The Healer’s Art ◆ 2017

B.More Progressive
Claire Rosen, MS3

Oftentimes in life, especially in medicine, we pay
so much attention to the outcome that we forget to
find beauty in the process

55The Healer’s Art ◆ 2017

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Acknowledgements

Our inaugural issue would not have been possible without
the generous support from the following donors:

The Medical Alumni Association
of the University of Maryland

University of Maryland,
Baltimore Council for the Arts & Culture

Cynthia Sikorski
Kristen Cole

Miriam Arichea
Chelsea Alvarado

Dafna Paltin
Lori Alvarado
Margaret Drake
Clare Boczon
Dr. Adam Puche
Laura and Abba Poliakoff
Kimber Moore
Donna Motluk
Zaira Ahmad
Derik Davis
Dr. Richard Thompson
and all others who contributed to the publication of this journal

Special thanks to
Mark Brodsky
Dr. Milford Foxwell

Printing made possible by

Graphic Squirrel

the

HEALEaRr’tSINAUGURAL ISSUE
2017