#medical poet

[scarstomymoon]

Yes, they say some infinities are bigger than other infinities, and that I'm standing between the lub and dub of your very dear heart, bargaining for a lifetime of love in those 0.5 seconds...

~simran, chips of poetry, peeling off from walls of my mind.🌼

PS- one pump of heart, i.e one cardiac cycle takes around 0.8 second. And between the two heart sounds, there's a normal gap of 0.5 seconds. Just my physiology notes. But can you imagine, half a second... Just that.

#med student #poetry #poems and quotes #spilled writing #excerpt from a book i'll never write #medical poet #docpoet #good grief #heart #cardiac

[hospital-wh0re]

ash, tracy k. smith // house md 

#ash tracy k smith #ash #tracy k. smith #house md #web weaving #parallels #house md parallels #robert chase #gregory house #james wilson #lisa cuddy #house md characters #tv shows #2000s tv shows #medical dramas #hugh laurie #medical trauma #poetry #the new yorker magazine #female poets #poet laureate

[scimitar-and-longsword]

Fortnight

Taylor Swift featuring Post Malone

#fortnight feat. post malone #post malone #taylor swift #ttpd #the tortured poets department #fortnight #music videos #my stuff #my gifs #taylor swift gifs #ttpd gifs #music #tw: medication #tw: electrocution

[gender0bender]

(IDs under the cut) Joint interview with the closeted bisexual and the dead body. Excerpt.

IDs: Image of medical photographs including a lung xray, a picture of a white person’s flat chest with the heart and ribs drawn over it, and a closeup on a white person’s abdomen. The title at the top reads: “Joint interview with the closeted bisexual and the dead body. Excerpt.” The first and last diagrams have labels which have been replaced with the words of a poem that reads: “because the rot is warm and the decay is sweet because the stillness is not a quiet but a cacophony of maggots and movement because I am listening to my body devour itself because your body is warm and mine is cold because everyone misses me but no one knows exactly who I was but everyone agrees that there’s nothing left because I’m being buried as I speak and the dirt I’m swallowing tastes of love.”

Image of medical photographs on a textured black background. Featuring a lower nude torso with outlines of the pelvis and ribs drawn on. There are two x rays of the inside of bones at the bottom, and the images have labels that have been replaces with part of a poem reading: “because it feels good to feast on downlow worms and hidden glances and won’t you look at me - see that my heart is untouched for now and you could be the first to take a bite”

Image of medical photographs on a textured black background. Two pictures of the back and front of a torso, one from the back the other front, the top image has the outlines of a skeleton on it, and the bottom has the outlines of where the organs are on it. Both images are labelled and the labels have been replaced with a poem reading: “because soon there really will be nothing left because my life is only a memory with no one left to defend it because the name on my headstone is rarely the right one because the autopsy was the only time a man touched me and marvelled at what colours I had inside because I am pulled apart and dissected and never looked at as a complete being that breathed in perfume and sweat and wanted without seeking permission because you hide from what your fingers find inside my organs because you deny what your body can do and so you have to deny me mine”

Image of medical photographs on a textured black background. The first is an image of a person’s hip and thigh from the side, and it is labelled with the lines of a poem:“ because no one touches me anymore, since I died because you locked me in this coffin, again and again, because I am being buried, alone.” The images at the bottom are of a internal x-ray of a throat, and a diagram of a torso’s skeleton. ED.

#bisexual art #trans art #queer art #queer artist #word art #graphic art #cw nudity #cw medical #my art #my writing #poetry #queer poetry #bisexual poetry #trans poetry #trans artist #bisexual artist #poets on tumblr

[parkercore-69]

i wish someone woulda told me about the medical malpractice pipeline before i watched re-animator cuz now im sat watching house md and i dunno whats become of me

#ya’ll know the timeline #reanimator #saw 2004 #hannibal #house md #thats it #the four horsemen of the apocalypse #my medical malpractice menlovers #god damn it #i was like passibly normal before #like i was okay?? #then i went and fucked it up by watching that silly gay science man #god and then the fucking fags in the bathroom #and then the cute guy with the severely declining mental health disorders #god and now this?? #just an old guy hatecriming potentially every minority AND majority #while harbouring his little homoerotic friendship?? #yeah i see you gregory house #hes stronger than me i wouldve folded for the dead poets society guy #soz guy im only one season in idk the lore yet

[moregraceful]

because you're getting away from your life and getting away from everything

Kirkus Reviews // Michael Leonard // Russian Machine Never Breaks // Had the Vines Budded, Were the Pomegranates in Bloom by S. Brook Corfman // NBCSports Philadelphia // "How He Loves" by John Macmillan // Michael Leonard // [subterranean / dreaming grace roots] by Nat Raha // Summer by Chen Chen // Kirkus Reviews

#bryce harper #philadelphia phillies #baseball #hockey #i'm sorry this has been in my head for two weeks i had to exorcise it #i had to take medical leave from school and i'm like well how else do i deal with that crushing blow #by web-weaving bryce harper's latent homosexuality i guess!! #this was hornier and funnier and then i discovered that corfman poem. sorry to all poets and corfman specifically #kasper creations

[invisiblemonstrosity]

a piece of a poem I wrote in rage and sorrow when I was reading up on canadas new MAID laws

#I know it isn’t a necessity to do so obviously but I don’t know #feeling bitter and useless and hurt #why? well it’s a can of worms I won’t crack open #id in alt text #kj writes #quotes #poet #poem #poetry #MAID #medically assisted death #Canada #words #typography #mental illness #death tw #lit #English lit #literature #poets on tumblr #aesthetic #aes #acadamia #dark acadamia

[d0ll-part-s]

codeine cradle

i.k.b

#poetry #original #original poetry #writers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #original prose #writerblr #web weaving #writing #parallels #copyright ikb #codeine mention #tw spiders #tw hallucinations #tw medical trauma #hospital mention #disabled writer

[worldbuildingwanderlust]

Smokeless smokes

And toothless tokes

Another day of abstaining

Will it make the morning

Brighter?

...Maybe I just need my lighter

#my writing #shitpost #humor #smoking #sweet #cannabis #poetry #poem #creative writing #self medication #spilled ink #poets on tumblr #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #quick write #420life

[lena-oleanderson]

Love in the Thoracic Cavity from Side Wounds

(or: bite-marked myocardium and the thoracostomy of love)

#poetry #poem #lena's poetry archives #poets on tumblr #on love #on friendship #on trust #medical imagery

[runawaycarouselhorse]

Three little dark brown spots set in a splash of milky light brown On the palm of my left hand, I showed to my mother, curious. She took one look and said: "Dirt."

I felt my heart crushed to powder.

My sister, filled with self-loathing About her appearance, envious Of how I never seemed to hate mine. "I love my big, poofy, wavy hair!" "You love frizz for some reason." She lamented her dark eyes, Told her I always liked mine, They reminded me of black tea— A deep, reddish-brown; tea-coloured. She looked closely at my eyes; "Dirt."

I felt my heart crushed to powder.

I never stopped loving my hair or my eyes! I just loved them less: sad, hateful things.

Returning after prayer in medical school, Lashes still too wet for my glasses, I stepped into my sunny lecture room, My late friend (one of only two) cried: "You have light brown eyes! Your glasses Hide them–destroy them." Like a poem!

Once, I sat on my bed, in the sunlight. Mama insisted on open windows, I like morning light, but not mid-day heat. So I always closed them at noon— I sat in the sun, mama stood in the door She hurriedly called my dad over to see. "Look, in the sun, her hair looks golden!"

#have some freestyle poetry from someone who absolutely is NOT a poet #but yeah bad experiences with envious people who hate themselves imposing their self-hatred on others and LOATHING self-confidence #most women I know are like this and it's terrible--please work out your self-hatred before raising kids #poetry #and yeah it's most likely a birthmark (on such an obvious place!) so it's funny/sad my bio mother never knew of it PFFT I still have it #but yeah neglected and all that #and yes my friend from foundation year (who also had a tumblr... used to follow it on my first blog) really did say it like that #it sounded like a poem open to interpretation #she meant my glasses hid no destroyed them but written down it almost sounded like a plea to destroy the glasses! #it feels fanciful and poetic #this poem partly dedicated to 'Ahd keep her in your du'a #she died while she was still a medical school student #انا لله و انا اله راجعون #personal

[domemescountaspoetry]

Oh, opiate tears.

If you were a pelting, aggressive rain

maybe then you could wash away the physical pain.

If you were a soothing wave hugging the coast

maybe then you could drag the grief out to the seas.

But you are soft and trickling,

only enough to dull the hurts of body and heart, not flush away or drown them.

I will sleep with knees drawn up, ready to guard or fight against the enemy

and you will dot the pillow that cushions the thoughts you fuzz

and dim the lighthouse lamp enough to strand ships but not to bring the calm of night.

#poetry #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #poem #spilled poetry #female poet #poeticstories #female writer #poets on tumblr #poeticstateofmind #chronic pain #endometriosis #women’s health #pain medication #endo

[mindrottinglystupid]

Hello Hello!

This is my third writing this because tumblr hates me.

Excuse my face in the picture I was trying to make my brother laugh! I am finally doing a vitamin infusion! My mouth tastes like pineapple juice but the (now finished) sucker helped tremendously. My upper arm is cold under the skin, but I cannot tell if it’s pain. I think it qualifies for a little of both. I started having tremors (fun!) a little after starting the infusion, but the nurses said that it was unrelated.

After this I get to go to a neuro appointment! I’ll do updates on how that goes aswell :)

#sleep deprived poet #chronic illness #chronic pain #vitamins #vitamin infusion #infusions #iv therapy #iv vitamin therapy #medical journal

[a-queer-crip-writes]

CWs for pregnancy loss, eugenics, disableism, medical trauma

Poetrytober day five

“Oh, you must be Catholic,” they said

When I told them there was no chance I’d be aborting a disabled foetus.

They did not even exist yet

And they never really did; it turned out

They were only a ghost of cells and hopes

And hurt and desperate longing

Of both of us

concentrated in a place that only cramped and bled and bled

And could not cradle and keep them as I,

As we

So desperately wanted

Washed away on a blood-tide into

The oblivion of never-being.

And yet even in that state of desperate longing that

Could never conjure into full being

I had to defend their right to be

From even the chance.

#poetry #poetrytober #spilled poetry #disableism #disabled poet #eugenics #pregnancy loss #pregnancy #medical disableism

[dont-hold-on]

Cut through the skin from the back-

That was the first carving of our cadaver that we were asked to make

Tight leathery and cold.

This same sensation haunts me when I think of you.

I wonder

Why are we taught with such precision how to handle the dead with so much care

But no one teaches us how to handle love-

The messaging is the same “handle with care”

But the accuracy and attention to detail of the “how to” is lacking when it comes to the living.

It took me 9 months to realize the scalpel you had inserted through the skin of my back was not aimed to pull off just a little skin

But was going straight for my aorta

It took me another year of painful maneuvering

To help you with all of your wounds until I realized I myself was bleeding out and even then it took me 3 more months to pull out the scalpel

And now, I’m hoping the bleeding will stop eventually

That the scar will heal

But this wound is not like the ones we learned in medical school, this heart is not healing like the rest of the body

The time frames for wound healing do not apply here.

So what book should I turn to?

Which attending can I ask?

What colleague or medical journal can show me the survival curves of “heart break”

No one seems to know

So I’ll keep going

Helping to mend others

Hoping that my bleeding will slow

Before ischemia sets in.

#poets on tumblr #poetry #poem #life #love #writers on tumblr #medical school #medicine #heart #anatomy #heartbreak

[nonchalantnightowlsworld]

31 Prompts for October: Horror

Day 2: Hospital/Medical Horror

The Diagnosis

Dr. Lee was a brilliant neurosurgeon, but he had a dark secret. He enjoyed experimenting on his patients, altering their brains in subtle ways to see how they would react. He would implant electrodes, inject chemicals, or remove parts of their cortex, and then observe the changes in their behavior, memory, or personality. He kept meticulous records of his experiments, but he never shared them with anyone. He considered himself a pioneer of neuroscience, and his patients were his guinea pigs.

One day, he received a new patient, a young woman named Anna who had suffered a severe head injury in a car accident. She had a fractured skull, bleeding in the brain, and swelling of the tissues. She was unconscious and in critical condition. Dr. Lee saw this as a perfect opportunity to test his latest hypothesis: that he could create artificial memories by stimulating certain regions of the brain.

He took Anna to the operating room and performed a craniotomy, opening her skull and exposing her brain. He then attached electrodes to various parts of her temporal lobe, where the memory centers are located. He used a computer to send electrical impulses to the electrodes, creating patterns of activity that mimicked the formation of memories. He fed Anna false information, such as her name, her family, her occupation, and her hobbies. He also implanted some disturbing images, such as scenes of violence, torture, and death. He wanted to see how she would react when she woke up.

He finished the operation and closed her skull. He moved her to the recovery room and waited for her to regain consciousness. He was eager to see the results of his experiment.

A few hours later, Anna opened her eyes. She looked around the room, confused and scared. She saw Dr. Lee standing next to her bed, smiling.

“Hello, Anna,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I’m Dr. Lee, your neurosurgeon. You had a serious accident, but you’re going to be fine.”

“Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital. You’ve been here for a few days.”

“What happened?”

“You were in a car crash. You hit your head very hard. You don’t remember?”

Anna tried to recall the accident, but she couldn’t. She felt a surge of panic.

“No,” she said. “I don’t remember anything.”

Dr. Lee nodded.

“That’s normal,” he said. “You have some memory loss due to the injury. But don’t worry, it’s temporary. Your memories will come back soon.”

He lied.

He knew that Anna’s memories were gone forever. He had erased them and replaced them with his own creations.

He decided to test her further.

“Do you remember your name?” he asked.

“Anna,” she said.

“That’s right.”

“Do you remember your family?”

She hesitated.

“I have a… husband?” she said.

“Yes,” he said.

“And a… daughter?”

“Yes.”

“What are their names?”

She frowned.

“I don’t know.”

Dr. Lee smiled.

“That’s okay,” he said. “You’ll remember soon.”

He lied again.

He knew that Anna didn’t have a husband or a daughter. He had made them up.

He continued to ask her questions about her life, her work, her hobbies. She answered some of them correctly, but most of them wrong. She was confused and frustrated by the gaps in her memory.

Dr. Lee pretended to be sympathetic and reassuring, but inside he was delighted by his success. He had created a new person out of thin air.

He decided to push her further.

“Do you remember this?” he asked, showing her a picture on his phone.

It was one of the images he had implanted in her brain: a man being tortured by a masked figure with a chainsaw.

Anna gasped and recoiled.

“No!” she screamed. “What is that?”

Dr. Lee watched her reaction with interest.

“It’s nothing,” he said calmly. “Just a random image I found on the internet.”

“Why did you show me that?” she asked, trembling.

“I wanted to see if you recognized it.”

“Why would I recognize it?”

Dr. Lee shrugged.

“Maybe you saw it somewhere before.”

“No,” she said firmly. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

She lied.

She had seen it before: in her nightmares.

She didn’t know why she had such horrible dreams every night since she woke up in the hospital. She dreamed of blood and pain and death, things that she had never experienced in real life. She dreamed of being chased by monsters, being stabbed by knives, being burned by fire. She dreamed of killing people she didn’t know, people who begged for mercy as she sliced them open with a scalpel.

She hated those dreams. They made her feel sick and guilty and afraid.

She didn’t know that those dreams were not dreams at all. They were memories.

Memories that Dr. Lee had planted in her brain.

Memories of his other experiments.

#spooky #horror #psychological horror #halloween writing prompts #writing #october #fall season #creative writing #writers and poets #writers on tumblr #writing community #writers #eerie #dark #medical horror