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Medical Humanities


Kian Madjedi


July 29, 2016


she extends her arm

to shake my hand.

my eyes notice an essential tremor.    

she clasps her hands over mine

and thanks me for seeing her today.  

my hands feel for Bouchard’s nodes.

she speaks in soft voices about her pain

and how it is worse in the morning.

my ears listen to her words.

my ears listen for the hoarseness

of a ninth cranial nerve palsy.

with her trust as my currency   

I silently peel away the layers of her story   

one by one

and bring them




of focus


an invisible undressing

of the concentric lamellae of your histories.

past history

social history

personal history

family history   

and everything in between.

I am always watching –

always listening -  

for the

untold story.

for the story you aren’t telling

during the one that you are.  

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