I had a moment on Friday. It was a feeling of nostalgia for a moment that I was currently experiencing. In the moment, I thought to myself, “in the future, I will feel nostalgic for this moment in time.”

After the genetics and evolution exam, Kristin, Sara, Bonnie, Kaki, and I went to Cacao in Virginia Highland for hot chocolate. The store reminded me of a European chocolate store. Clean walls. A glass display with beautiful handmade chocolates. A long bar with seating. The lights glowed a warm yellow and big windows faced the street. The windows framed the gray day. Autumn clouds hid the sun such that only a cool gray light snuck through the sky. The trees were on fire: golden and chestnut. Inside the chocolate boutique enveloped us in a feeling of warmth, highlighted by the grayness of the world outside. The warmth came from both the yellow lighting and the company of good friends. It was a feeling of fullness in spending time with good people, good conversation, and (of course) good chocolate. I wanted to freeze that moment, that autumn afternoon, that feeling. I wanted to save it like a clip from a movie so that I could revisit it (watch it from an out-of-body experience if you will) in later years.

Capture, save, revisit. Like a “feeling vault.” I’m imagining a hall (like the hall of prophecies in Harry Potter). The hall would have little orbs glowing all sorts of colors. The orbs would be lined neatly on shelves and there would be rows and rows of shelves. Each orb would hold a memory and it would be labeled with a feeling. And when I need to feel that feeling again, I could pick up the orb and revisit that moment in time.


Why medicine?

Friends, it’s been a rough week. The election really threw me off and I’m still in a stage of denial. Given the past week’s events, I want to take a moment to reflect on something unrelated to politics and something positive.

One of my favorite parts of Emory’s curriculum is what we call the “Patient Interview.” For every module we study, we have a patient interview during which an Emory physician brings in a patient who has a condition relevant to the unit we’re studying. The physician interviews their patient in front of the class, the patient describes what it’s like to live with their disease, and we are allowed to ask the patient questions. It’s a good reminder as to why I spend the large part of my day on my butt instead of outside exploring. This week, a patient came in to talk to us about living with a genetic condition called Fabry disease. It’s a condition that affects many systems. The patient said during the interview, “finding a doctor who was interested enough to find out what’s wrong with me was the most important thing.” And even if we don’t know what’s wrong, at least be willing to try different things.

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