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Michigan State University College of Osteopathic Medicine Students Present

TENSEGRITY

Literary And Arts Magazine

Vol. 4: Pillars

Cover art

Works produced in this issue of Tensegrity are used with the permission of the original authors/creators. The original authors/creators retain all rights to their respective works. All works were accepted by December 2023. Class affiliations reflect status at time of submission.

“Portrait of Dr. Lisa DeStefano” by Kyle LaDuke, OMS-II, MSUCOM

Tensegrity

The Literary and Arts magazine by and for the Michigan State university health professional colleges College of Human Medicine College of Osteopathic Medicine College of Veterinary Medicine

Editor-in-Chief

Dimitri F. Joseph, OMS-II, DO-PhD program, MSUCOM

Faculty Advisor

Lyman Mower

Editorial & Design Team

Izabela Birsanescu, OMS-III, MSUCOM

Misha Brown, OMS-II, MSUCOM

Derek Bowman, G1, DO-PhD program, MSUCOM

Visha Parmar, OMS-II, DO-PhD program, MSUCOM

Tyler Signorella, OMS-II, MSUCOM

Kyle Prete

Izabela Birsanescu

Tyler Signorella

Risa Lugo

Hiram Stephen Williams

Darwyn Howard

Visha Parmar

Tyler Signorella

Darwyn Howard

Hiram Stephen Williams

Tyler Signorella

Vishnu Ghantasala

Marquisha Myles

Tyler Signorella

Tensegrity

the

A Leg To Stand On My Ginny

In my element

Past One

Untitled # 29

Mother

Friendship

Another day of paying bills

Old Friend

Atlas’ Lover

Steel and Grit

A Beast With No Back

Details in the Beach

Vol.4: Pillars

Cassidy Meza

Misha Brown

Khushi M. Ghanchi

Lauren Phillip

Yasser Almansour

Tensegrity

Sunshine Liu

Melissa Xu

April Martino

Izabela Birsanescu

Cassidy Meza

Dimitri F. Joseph

April Martino

To Be Human Charlie Untitled Michigan Roots Linked Together The First Embrace Waiting on Tomorrow Becoming Whole Nourished

The Root of the Problem Ancestry Untitled

LETTER FROM THE EDITORS

Despite its strong association with medicine, the term “tensegrity” was originally coined by and co-opted from the architectural community. Specifically, the term is attributed to Buckminster Fuller, a prolific American architect and writer. Any review of Mr. Fuller’s life would reveal a man deeply in love with both the sciences and the arts. It could likely be supposed with little challenge that Mr. Fuller’s life highlights the value of studying the intersection between subjects. When two fields of study converge, we are given the opportunity to explore each one through the lens of the other. Tensegrity itself is a word uniquely situated at the intersection of language, art, and science, capturing a concept in equal parts profound and pleasing.

Sadly, our experience as students often prevents us from taking the time to appreciate the interactions between the subjects of Science and the subjects of Art. Tensegrity: the magazine fulfills its mythical namesake by showcasing the beautiful intersection of medicine and artistic expression. The intersection between metaphor and science is captured most intuitively by the pillar. Pillars, in their most basic role, support structures both grandiose and plain. No structure (or person) stands without support. Multiple cultures across the globe build upon the utilitarian role of pillars to demonstrate the creativity and artistic talents of their communities. For this edition of Tensegrity, we tasked our talented community with identifying and celebrating the Pillars of their lives—the people, pets, and ideals that support us. Every editor, contributor, and most readers of Tensegrity are beyond blessed to have the opportunity to explore the field of medicine. By celebrating and decorating the Pillars that allow us to explore medicine, we hope to demonstrate the raw talent and experiences found at MSU.

It is a personal belief that all schools of medicine harbor the same talents and insights found at our beautiful campuses. However, the opportunity Tensegrity provides is unique to us and must be treasured and protected. We, the Editors, have a limited ability to truly convey the complexity of our appreciation for our community at MSU. The faculty, staff, contributors, and readers that we are privileged to work for are the Pillars that synergistically support us. Going forward, we hope that this edition and future editions continue to be a celebration and showcase of all of you.

Go Green!

- The Editors

LETTER FROM THE FACULTY ADVISOR

Dear Reader,

Welcome to this issue of Tensegrity, the literary and arts magazine by and for the Michigan State University health professions colleges. As ever, this issue explores connections between the arts, humanities, and medicine—fields that, at first glance, may seem independent and non-overlapping, but connect, intersect, and intertwine in unexpected ways.

Our student submissions in this issue demonstrate that medicine, despite its clear connection to an empirical world of science and technology, is fundamentally about human beings and human connection: our experiences, stories, and emotions. The arts and humanities have long been concerned with questions of human connection, yet medicine, as our student contributors show, can also give voice to the human condition and foster an appreciation for the complexities of suffering, healing, and care. Through this lens, we can advance along another avenue towards appreciation of what it means to live and to care for others, to confront mortality and the unknown, and reflect on moments of both our own vulnerability and that of others.

The theme of this issue, Pillars, invites reflection on the structures that support and shape both medicine and the humanities. These pillars are not separate entities but rather intersecting forces that hold up the edifice of human experience. In the following pages, you’ll encounter essays, poems, and art that explore these connections and offer a diverse array of perspectives on how the arts and humanities can strengthen the pillars of medicine. These pieces remind us that medicine is not merely care for the body but also care for the soul.

We hope these works inspire you to consider the role that the arts and humanities play in making medicine not just a science, but an art all its own.

Thank you for joining us in this exploration. Please enjoy this edition of Tensegrity.

Cordially,

Lyman Mower

to be human

To care for others is to be human. True empathy requires a deep awareness of our shared human experience. While years of medical expertise may guide decision-making, ultimately, doctors take care of people, and people are not numbers. I insist on enjoying what I do in order to retain my ability to connect with others and preserve my own humanity. I want to always meet my patients where they are.

- Sunshine Liu, OMS-II, MSUCOM

A LEG TO STAND ON

So many pillars—of creation, wisdom, salt, and more! All worthy of attention, but look at that turtle there, lifting up on pedestals of honesty, resilience, patience, and grit. With a little kindness, he’ll get where he needs to, carrying hope on his back.

Poetry:

Dr. Hiram Stephen Williams, M.D., M.P.H Professor of Pediatrics Emeritus, MSUCOM

Words ThaT Change QualiTy Care

Do you see me? Do you really see me and Not just a part of your dreary work life that desperately needs you to Resuscitate it in every sense of the word? I need you to show me some that understanding

Frequent physician visits aren’t my idea of fun either. I saw your Flyer (and why should clinics even advertise? Isn’t there enough sickness to keep you in business?) and

Supposedly, you

Claim to be able to help me but I keep having to Insist that there is something that needs help to begin with. I’m begging not for a

Drug to heal me; but to be heard. To be helped. To not be brushed off. I’m

Seeking a basic human Behavior; if you can bear it. I desperately seek out, kindness

Chart, even, the feelings that wash over me as I sit here. And unfortunately, distrust is always Stalking through my mind whenever I’m in this white coat ecosystem. Your species is technically

Non- existent, sure, but it’s also ironically lacking It seems all white coats are humanity.

Adherent to this way of being. Could you suffer the way that I suffer? Do I have to cry? Scream? What will change your mind about me?

And what will truly change my mind about you? Then I saw you.

And then you truly saw me. humanity.

Suffering, and the understanding of it, is present only in You prove yours, saying I am Not going

To get a single ounce of Blame from you for being in pain or for the distrust that I feel. You are sorry (And you say that. And you mean that.)

understanding

Knowledgeable is how I describe you. You demonstrate about not only medicine; About empathy and how humans heal best with it— how we don’t know everything about Health and wellbeing and pain. I hear the words I yearn for. You say you will be an

Active advocate for me; not giving In— to the temptations to give up nor to the feelings of inadequacy when your Decisions do not cure me on the first, or even second attempt. This foreign feeling is

Pleasant. More pleasant than the distrust that came before it, definitely. It is Inspiring to meet someone who is Optimistic, rather than overwhelmed, by the prospect of my care. And, yes, I admit, everyone

Deserves to be given the benefit of the doubt, but that goes both ways. We both judge the Quality of our interactions and we both kindness

Care about the same thing. So why is giving each other a little so difficult?

- Cassidy Meza MS2, MSUCHM

MY GINNY

The rustle of the waves as they roll on the shore.

I bundle myself in the jacket that you frequently wore. It still smells like you, and our memories we shared.

All these years have passed, and look at how we've fared.

Separated, distanced, and cold. So often I wish we hadn't grown old.

I think of you as the river ambles by, and I hold myself, like you did, while I cry.

I think of you often with little things and such. Although I know, you never liked water much.

- Darwyn Howard Class of 2026, MSUCVM

Caption: Chapel Rock, located East of Munising in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula serves as a visual for personal growth. In high school, I viewed milestones as the ultimate end goal for personal and professional development. Over time, I realized that reaching an endpoint often resulted in stagnation. My perspective shifted. I now believe that change is a direction, not a destination. This growth mindset ensures that we are always improving and avoiding complacency. This photo symbolizes that our foundational plateaus are opportunities for ascent, urging us to grow beyond our initial limits. Like this tree, don’t settle at your plateaus; instead, grow.

- Kyle Prete OMS-II, MSUCOM

LEGACY

Eren put his hand in his cloak pocket and frowned. “Sir?” the food vendor prodded.“Is there something wrong?”Eren flashed a smile. “Ah, I seem to have misplaced my wallet,” he stated as he bit into the hot bun. While most would be awash in a wave of panic, Eren found himself annoyed. Very few had fingers nimble enough to slip past his awareness, let alone find the opportunity to do so. He was sure there had to be easier and more enticing targets than the nondescript young traveler. He watched the shopkeeper’s eyes widen before their eyebrows furrowed in anger. He made no motion to run and continued eating, watching as the vendor scanned the crowd for some keeper of the law, official or otherwise.

“Are we going to have a prob-” the keeper started before Eren held up his hand. He cast his eyes cast upward, contemplating if the extra spicy bun would have more flavor.

“Hmmm,” Eren mused after swallowing. “No, it is missing something else.”

“Are you lookin for trouble?” the vender growled as they crossed their arms. He began to reply only for another voice to speak up behind him.

“Not at all. I’ll take one as well. Extra spicy.”The voice was a familiar one and made the savory bun taste like ash in his mouth. Even as he watched the hands exchange coins, he dared not turn to confirm what he already knew. Despite every thought telling him to walk away, he remained rooted to the spot. The cacophony of the crowd faded as his shock gave way to buried resentment and a firm fist.

“Now, before you run off again, let us speak,” the voice muttered in his ear as a strong hand grasped his shoulder. “I have something you lost and won’t get very far without.” Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a confident smirk. “Besides, what I have to say even you might find agreeable.”

Eren had half a mind to run, but doubted that he could disappear that easily.His missing wallet was no mere coincidence. It was a clear indicator that whatever or whomever had marked him he could not perceive and therefore would have a hard time shaking. He resigned to following the familiar figure through the busy city center. The broad shoulders, purposeful, yet casual stride, and less than immaculate posture for someone of their position had not changed. He could keep pace with them now, long past were the days where he had to almost jog to keep up, but the feeling that he was a few steps behind had yet to fade.They stopped in a more residential part of the city where old stone houses circled and hid a small fountain encased in foliage which obscured the icon it was supposed to be memorializing. His guide took a seat on the edge and nonchalantly ate their fare as light green eyes took their stock of him.

“Have a seat, would you? If I was going to ambush you I would have done it already, so stop looking at me like I’m some back alley mugger. However, I will drag you back if you decide you would like to refuse this little chat.”

Eren frowned but took a seat. “How the hell did you find me?”

The man chuckled. “Well, I can’t say that you made it easy. The official investigation came to a standstill a month after I reported your disappearance. Giving you that two week head start was my mistake. So I had to resort to using unofficial means and even then it took nearly 9

months to pin you down. I’ve really only known where you’ve been for the past 6 weeks, but I’ve been hung up in Kolis.”

“What else is new?” Eren snorted. Lord Coro Res was a name most spoke with an equal mixture of respect and fascination. He held the esteemed position of Head Healer, director of the Royal Health Ministry and primary physician to the ruling house of the kingdom of Levant. Not only was the Head Healer trained as herbalist and physician both, they all wielded a gift known as the Healer’s Touch, a power that accelerates the healing process of whomever they touched. It was a gift that was passed through blood and present since Levant’s founding, giving its wielders exceptional social standing. Lord Coro, himself, was known as one of the Four Pillars, a name given to the most influential members effecting the kingdom’s governance during their last king’s reign. Yet, Lord Coro never carried himself in a manner most would expect considering his status. He lived like a commoner, not even attended to by a manservant. Eren never understood how this man in front of him was regarded as some great noble. Lord Coro Res had never been anything more or less than his infuriating father. Coro sighed.

“Listen, I know you’re upset with me, but you didn’t need to take it out on everyone else. Your mother and Leilah were really upset. Still are.”

“And you weren’t?”

“I just thought you’d come back like you always do, even though Leilah insisted this time was different. Once I concluded you had really left, I set out to find you, clearly.” He took the last bite of his bun, disappointment flickering across his features before turning back to him with smirk. “However, I told myself that I wouldn’t approach you unless I had something to offer.”

“What? More secrets? Lies?”

Coro rolled his eyes. “Eren, I’m not going to argue with you. It’s a proposal. Despite what you think you know, I would like to point out that I have never abandoned my family unlike you.”

Eren chuckled before standing up and glaring at him. “No, you never abandoned your duty!” he shot back, his voice wavering with rage. “How many promised dates have you broken? Do you know that Leilah and I would count the days until your return, only for those days to far outweigh when you were actually there? Your family has always come in second. Everyone else is content to go along with the facade and your hypocrisy, but I no longer belong in your perfect tapestry. Not since I dared to peek behind it. So I left. Problem solved. Your innocent daughter and untainted son would allow me to fade from your memory in due time.”Coro’s eyes widened as a rare frown aged his youthful features. His mask composed of absent mindedness and amicable nature fell away as his mind worked over the implications of the statement. In the end, Coro only gave him a sad smile which was buried behind the mask just as quickly as it had appeared.

“Do you want to stay missing?” his father stated casually as he watched some children played ball in the square.

Eren narrowed his eyes in confusion and suspicion. “Are trying to get rid of me for good? Then why even find me?”

“I rather that you use your restlessness constructively. Besides, I thought you would like

some…perspective. Gain your own insight and then you can judge if my secrets were worth keeping.” Coro stood up and stretched. “Here,” he stated as he tossed his missing coin purse. “The details and instructions of my proposal are inside. I only ask you at least speak with them. I think you will find you two have much in common. Least of all your mistrust of me.”

Eren should have known then that his choice wasn’t going to be much of a choice at all. Perhaps, his father knew him well or maybe he just had a better understanding of what drove people better than most. His contact, and eventual employer, was a person of power themselves, but not yet with the influence or experience to wield it freely. They would help him remain missing since missing people could hear and see things people of note could not. Sights and whispers that spoke to truths long buried. Truths about their kingdom and it’s gift bloodlines. The deeper he dug, the more the history unraveled before him, like an ivy that had found a new path for growth. Yet, he failed to realize what he unearthed had wrapped around the pillar and the poison it possessed was as subtle as it was deadly.

The shallow, ragged breathing behind him made him grit his teeth as he pushed his horse to go faster. Eren cursed under his breath, trying to figure out how he could have missed this. The underground had only stirred with whispers of this job a couple days prior, reaching his ears too late. “Don’t you dare die on me, old man,” Eren stated as he glanced back at Coro’s body leaned up against his.

Eren tried not to think the worse, but they were still easily an hour away from the capital city of Kolis where his father could receive any semblance of treatment. The assassins had pumped him full of poison and since Touch wielders had a high tolerance to any substances in their bodies, any antidote given would be useless, if there was an antidote at all. His own weak healing ability had failed to slow its progress.

“Crepuscular,” his father muttered.

“What?”

“The poison. It’s…from the crepuscular.”

“That creepy flower? Not that gift? If you want to call it that.”

“Oh? You…know about that?”

“I should. You basically sent me after it or rather them. Perspective and all that? I should know something. Or, as you always told me, what I thought I knew.” Coro managed a weak chuckle before cursing. “What is it?”

“Vision’s gone.”

The pounding of horses hooves bridged the silence between them. The weight of this broken pillar, this body, his father grew heavier with each passing minute. He had half a mind to turn around towards their home in the west where the rest of their family waited. He would die slowly either way, so why not where his children and wife could say goodbye. However, and much to his chagrin, he understood his father’s train of thought now. He ran away six years ago to get away from the secrets his father held and now he probably held more than him.

“Eren…,” his father called. “Stay missing. For her. At least…for a year…” Eren sighed. “Well, I can’t go back now. You’ve left me with unfinished business. I should have”

“Don’t blame… yourself,” Coro interjected, his speech slurred. “I got… careless. Besides, my legacy remains safe this way. As far as they’re concerned, my heir is missing.”

“Yeah, I got it. Leilah is the priority.”Coro took in a shaky breath and sighed. “My heir missing means he’s not a target. Keep digging. Protect them in my stead.”

“Why…why would I do that?” Eren managed, his voice catching on the tears in his throat. “I thought I told you not to die.”

“Sorry, seems I’m going to break another promise.”Soon they hit cobblestone roads, a sign that they were right outside their destination.

“Not just Leilah.,” Coro mumbled, barely above the clop of hooves.

“Save your breath, old man. We’re almost there.”

“All three of my brats…were the priority,” Coro rambled. “Even that restless, stubborn runaway.”

A week later, the pillar crumbled, leaving a family in mourning and the kingdom weakened and vulnerable with only one of its Four Pillars still standing. Yet, Eren saw the scaffolding as new columns took their place, his employer and his sister among them, two of an eventual nine. Their kingdom’s history and legacy. Until they were installed, he would remain the unseen tenth, bearing the weight of their wall and the deadly ivy that threatened to crush them.

-Misha Brown OMS-II, MSUCOM

Melissa Xu, OMS-II, MSUCOM

CHARLIE

IN MY ELEMENT

Always sort of shy, 2023 got me confident Blazing on the beat, season it with my melanin Chug out and chop, keep it icy, on my specimen Daily dose, Vitamin V, get on that regimen

Eloquent as an immigrant, on my etiquette Foundation stacking up, stock it with the sediment

Grow as I shoot for the moon, I germinate Huffin’ and puffin’ but this lady never hesitant

In my element, once again, do the running man Just tryna have fun, how I be functionin’

Key to 2023 is a thicker integument

Love myself and be kind, keep it delicate

Music got me movin’ and groovin’ up in my microfilament

Never given up in my life, she resilient

Over and over, exercise and experiment

Protect my energy as I soar like a pelican

Quite an appetite, I eat like an elephant Ruminate over what matters, keep it relevant See clear, keep it in, low key on my reticent That way 2024 can be smooth and heaven-sent

Universe givin’ no doubt from the benefit V found herself after faced with impediment

Way to see loss is never as a deficit

XO to the life lessons, they are evident

You see the good vibes all up in my skeleton Zoom in to zoom out, I’m really in my element

V Out

- Visha Parmar, OMS-II, DO-PhD Program, MSUCOM

PAST ONE

Now, there are others who come, wheN blue ruNs so thiNly through the walls, aNd the table smothered with salted little bites they speak so civilly to each other.

how theN does your vestige come? screamiNg over every iNsiNcerity, pressiNg deeply iNto the kiNd smiles of serviced guests past oNe, every gifted bottle is soured by your abseNce.

today the kitcheN roared aNd the tabled was placed. but still, i have eateN NothiNg.

today the door prattled withholdiNg pause but still, i have spokeN NothiNg let us go without them, you, aNd i you, i pull with me dowN a wider empty street with the streetlights beatiNg yellow paiNt, a wiNter whispered muted empty street.

there is somewhere for use to be, where the wood is sweet aNd cybele kissed briefly we caN live as scurrysome thiNgs before coNviNciNg wood to bleed.

Now the secoNds must uNlock themselves the soul must creak aNd opeN, for us to live wild aNd choreac. cleaNse my toNgue with sNow aNd holy ash.

old frieNd, sooN each beatiNg heart will fall sileNt our fire will close its fiNal fiNgers, oNce more this soul will close. aNd iN the quiet cold suN, you will still be ash.

- Tyler Signorella, OMS-II MSUCOM

- ApriL mArTino

pA-C, pEdiATriC phYsiCAL mEdiCinE & rEhAbiLiTATion

UNTITLED # 29

ThErE is no fAiTh To pLACE in GrEEn EYEs, This worLd wAs siLEnCEd somE TimE AGo no morE To bE EmpTY

To bE hALf promisEd in somE TimELEss bEforEd AGE.

sEAsons ComE, wiThouT End, buT sTiLL ExTinGuishEd ThE wiCkEd; CrEEpEd And GYrEd, ThAT mEnACE ComEs unshAvEn, unwriTTEn ChorEAC, LikE ALL wiLd mEn. runninG horsEs ComE wiTh sofTEr rAins,

brinGinG winTEr: ThAT unrunnEd womAn. ALwAYs GLAss piLLArs GivE shATTErEd foundATions.

ThE YEArs for roAminG Grow shorTEr, EACh boTTLE Grows morE-sowEd And biTTErEd whEn shALLowEd. whErE ELsE is ThErE To Go, who ELsE is ThErE To bE?

MOTHER

The tree cradles me against the windthe sneaky chills wisping through my hair.

The sunlight dances on the watera mosaic never to be repeated.

The roots tangle like a labyrinth, withstanding the cruelty of time.

Their branches dip into the water to find what they so valiantly dig for underneath.

The simplicity of life is apparent in all mother nature’s designs.

To keep in touch with where we come from, and where we will end once morecradled in her arms.

- Darwyn Howard Class of 2026, MSUCVM

- Izabela Birsanescu OMS-III, MSUCOM

FRIENDSHIP

is two people trying on and wearing the same style of shoe, with the fitting easy, a look quite nice. When first worn, you’re both tickled with the choice— breaking in might bring a pinch or two, but calluses don’t form—each pair is built to fit and last. As years go by, always ready to slip on—a simple wipe gets off the dust— on your feet before you know it, memories come back fast, soon every toe is smiling as your love is passed.

-Dr.

Hiram Stephen Williams, M.D., M.P.H Professor of Pediatrics Emeritus MSUCOM

ANOTHER DAY OF PAYING BILLS

Can’t put it off, that time again— mortgage due, and others too, despite the wallet thin—with dollars saved from honest sweat, we need to honor debt. Such days are hard. But there are others whom we owe that we never should forget— those who put the effort in, to help make us what we are, both living and the dead. A moment spent remembering them, we never will regret.

-Dr. Hiram Stephen Williams, M.D., M.P.H Professor of Pediatrics Emeritus MSUCOM

OLD FRIEND

The cross you gave me has been returned. And I am missing its comfort, as much as I am missing you.

Old friend, have you kept your faith? I will confess, that I have lost mine

To gentle tides, to aimless forward movement. Although you might disagree. Still, I hope to be you soon

- Tyler Signorella OMS-II, MSUCOM

Caption: "The photo highlights a recognizable fixture of the Office of Wellness and Counseling at East Lansing. This office and its amazing staff provide a necessary service to our community. They are Pillars supporting our ability to achieve academic and personal success. Personally, I think the little fish tank is a poetic reminder of how they support our world in addition to the fishies'."

- Tyler Signorella OMS-II, MSUCOM

HELP IS ON THE WAY

To my fellow blacks and my fellow browns, I see your angst, I see the tears behind, I feel your pain when you can’t breathe I watch your torment and trust me, If I could do anything, I’d take that away I want to comfort you; I want to ball my fist with you I want to tell you it will be worth it one day Because Help is on the way

To my pained Palestinians, I want to give you warmth, I want to give you your home And I see you praying even when bombed, I see you seeking solace even when there is little hope I ask God to give you strength, to give you peace I ask Him to tell you it’s going to be okay Because Help is on the way

To my hidden Uyghurs, I hear your pain even in your silence, I see the unjust, the evil, the violence I go to bed thinking of you, of how you are not in yours Of how you are tortured in ways world might never know I pray for your release, I long for your freedom And trust me friend, it won’t take long Because Help is on the way

To my Rohingyas, I see the blatant injustice, I see the unfair treatment, I see all of it and I also see your tears, Your cries, your yearnings I want to say hang in there, I want to give you hope I want to give you a blanket, to hide you from this world I want to tell you just a little bit more Because Help is on the way

To my fellow Indians, those who are wronged By our country whose freedom we have longed, She claims accepting all, loving all But only cares for some in times of want I see the injustice, I see the blatant disregard And I want to tell you this too shall pass, Hang on to hope, Clutch it tight Because Help is on the way

To all those, Wronged by their leaders, Judged by their friends Killed by their protectors, Slaughtered by their neighbors Your pain isn’t ignored, Vicariously, I feel it through you Your screams aren’t unheard, they talk to me in my dreams Your tears aren’t wasted, they find solace in my eyes And I want to tell it will all soon end, and to end I say Help is always on the way

-Khushi M Ghanchi OMS-II, MSUCOM

LINKED TOGETHER

WAITING ON TOMORROW

THE FIRST EMBRACE

BECOMING WHOLE

- Izabela Birsanescu OMS-III, MSUCOM

NOURISHED

- Izabela Birsanescu OMS-III, MSUCOM

THE 5-4-3-2-1 TECHNIQUE

5 things you can see. 4 things you can touch. 3 things you can hear. 2 things you can smell. 1 thing you can taste.

Pictures on the wall of a person I no longer recognize. Confused and frustrated journal entries laying open on the desk, unfinished. A text message suggesting that my identity is a problem rather than the solution it once felt like. Single-word replies. White knuckles around a steering wheel. The anticipation of an unwanted hand on my thigh. Clumped mascara sitting on annoyed lashes, only because he likes it. The steadily increasing weight of the empty space between us. A sweaty glass of wine. “I love you” becoming “Love you.” Shorter, quieter phone calls. Songs that I hate. A stale medical mask against my mouth, both a protector and a silencer. Dust collecting on birthday gifts. Swallowing lackluster excuses like bittersweet molasses.

A slightly-too-snug piece of clothing out of the corner of my eye, never been worn. Progress photos. The wall next to every mirror. A note listing the calories of anything that passes my lips. Blinded by the idea of willpower. The cold and disappointing scale beneath my feet. Pulling at myself in the hopes that I might grow inward. Slick skin, but it’s never enough. Aching, overworked muscles. Accepting compliments about my deprived body. Heavy weights crashing to the floor like a burden. A voice in my head telling me to work harder. Fingertips embedded with earth. An unwashed, used public gym mat. Chalky vanilla protein powder with a hint of yearning.

Cloudy text messages on the bathroom floor. Orange and gold leaf-shaped decorations covering the mantle in celebration. Messages of meaningless apology. Looking for answers in a blank ceiling. A long and lonely road ahead. Tear-soaked pages of a letter he’ll never read. Early morning swollen eyes. Empty bedsheets. Cold feet. The silence of a phone call that never comes. A voice saying, “You know you can’t drink him away, right?” Asking if he found someone new. Freezer burned chocolate ice cream sent with love. A bloody nose. Dry mouth from an empty stomach.

Smiling at my reflection. A haircut he would hate. Silvery whiskers and a pink nose. Soft clothing bought for a present body rather than a nonexistent one. A shelf full of vinyl records. Pastel pink furniture. A warm mug full of coffee and pride. The comfort of a hug from an old friend. My own hand pressed against my skin with care. A Taylor Swift song about finding yourself on repeat. My mother’s voice asking if I want her to turn on my favorite show. Believably kind words. Old books. Pancakes and bacon cooking downstairs. A full meal without fear.

My phone thrown across the room after hitting send. Hardwood flooring littered with a yellow sundress. A rainbow of daisies, just because. An uncharacteristically shy smile. Freckled night skies. Wet grass tickling the back of my calves. High-rate pressure against my chest. The tiniest breath of a flap of wings in my stomach for the first time in many years. Her hand in mine in front of everyone. A baseball game as background noise. The laughter of someone who actually thinks I’m funny. Sharing a secret with the world. Salt air and fresh linen. Early morning bonfires. Lavender-vanilla flavored gloss from a purse that isn’t my own.

Ocean-blue eyes that shine just for me. Long, curly hair bouncing around the kitchen. The future taking her shape. Christmas decorations on apartment walls. Writing to remember, not to be heard. A hand against silky skin without a shadow of guilt. A press of lips that feels like freedom. A warm Sunday morning in bed with nothing to do. Touching just to touch, nothing more. Thinking out loud. Easy, comfortable silence. Saying “I love you” without needing to hear it back. Shared perfume, but it’s better on her. Homemade bagels fresh out of the oven. Peach mango Dum-Dums on a late night drive. Eventually, I stopped counting.

- Lauren Phillip MSUCVM Class of 24’

ATLAS’ LOVER

In the land of broken pillars, Cracks filled with mold and time, I see you standing tall, nascent, In all your beauty holding up a part of the sky. Your quivering tells me that you bear its entirety. I grow scared seeing the cracks forming in you too, Not from a fear that the sky will fall, But from a fear that, with you, will crumble the parts of you not bearing the sky. For I see beauty in those parts too. It will rain, and storm, and the Earth will start anew. Lend me yourself and let us breathe life into each other, Let the rain cleanse us, Let the storms forge our bond, Let us give each other, each other And break the solitude of responsibility.

Vishnu Ghantasala OMS-II, MSUCOM

Each time after I dropped a coin through the opening, I would shake my modest piggy bank that was covered in stickers. One sticker read “Everest”. For as long as I could remember, I wanted nothing more than to follow in the footsteps of the legendary alpinists who have conquered the impossibles.

While ascending towards a literal dream, I could not ignore the cords that supported the suspension bridge which then supported me. As I moved closer to base camp; I reflected about the thousands of tiny pillars that supported the weight of this moment.

From the sacrifices my family has made to the words of encouragement from friends the night before an exam, I could not be where I am today without the pillars in my life. This picture will always remind me to be grateful for the people who continue to support me even when the wind gets strong.

-Risa Lugo OMS-II, MSUCOM

TELEOLOGICALLY SPEAKING

Your skin wants to protect you from the sun - it increases the production of melanin, a pigment that helps shield the skin from UV damage

Your brain wants to inform you that you are undergoing an inflammatory response it increases the hypothalamic set point to cause a fever

Your lungs want to rid your body of excess acid in the bloodstream - they increase the rate and depth of breathing to blow it off as CO2

Your heart wants to maintain your blood pressure - it pumps harder and beats faster

Your blood vessels want to perfuse your most vital organs - they constrict peripherally and dilate centrally

Your gastrointestinal tract wants to sustain you - it secretes digestive enzymes and acids to facilitate absorption of specific nutrients from food you consume

Your immune system wants to defend against pathogens - it activates white blood cells to identify and destroy invading microorganisms

Your cells want to deal with offending agents - they undergo metaplasia to become tissue that can

Your limbs want to protect you from external danger - they react before you can even think to

What is haphazard about this beautiful harmony?

- Yasser Almansour MS2, MSUCHM

STEEL AND GRIT

In Detroit, a city of steel and might, I hesitate to step into "the pit" at night. The waiting room reeks of sickness and gloom, I question my choice to leave my room.

The doctor's eyes meet mine with disdain, His expression screams, "Why do you complain?" I voice my worries, but he interrupts, The tension in the room, palpable and abrupt.

I feel like a burden, an unwanted guest, As the physician scribbles, barely addressing my distress. Checking his Shinola watch, his time is tight, Leaving me feeling dismissed and out of sight.

The examination's rushed, questions left unanswered, I'm left with a prescription and a bill, feeling angered. With a dismissive wave and a cold, harsh tone, The physician sends me packing, feeling alone.

But before I depart, I reveal my own degree, Hoping for empathy or even sympathy. Instead, he scoffs and shows me the door, Leaving me to ponder if medicine's worth fighting for.

In Detroit, a city that deserves better care, I pray for doctors with hearts that truly dare To serve and heal, to empathize and learn, For patients like me who yearn to discern.

I leave the office, feeling worse than before, Wishing I could ignore my symptoms and more. But I refuse to give up, to suffer in silence, For there must be doctors with reliance.

In Detroit, a city of strength and resilience, We need doctors with compassion and brilliance. To heal our bodies and soothe our souls, To make us feel whole and ultimately, whole.

- Marquisha Myles MS3, MSUCHM

THE ROOT OF THE PROBLEM

- Cassidy Meza MS2, MSUCHM

A BEAST WITH NO BACK

She was not unkind. There was little beyond that to expect from her. Less so I’d imagine, if ever I could be so unkind. No person goes unrepented or at leastly unregretted. In at least so when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable. Why ponder this? Even Alecto within her own love gifted stones to Sisyphus and called them roses. Dearest, if I were to live without my tongue I would mourn the loss of taste, but never speech.

Be not unkind to disagree, Mercy’s definition often meanders and places “gifts” in the sand for her suitors. Still, she walks solely with Expression, rubbing her thumb on the dorsum of her hand. They have stories to share and the vapor between them to conjure illustrations. Their child is a beast with no back and brown eyes. And now I find their child in your candle shadow. Let us go then, unless you’ve taken to being lost someplace else. Dearest, to you I offer my tongue with no desire left to taste.

- Tyler Signorella OMS-II, MSUCOM

- Dimitri F. Joseph OMS-II, DO-PhD. Program, MSUCOM

DETAILS IN THE BEACH

You are a stone, I have given back to the sea.

Through the turbulence of my life you will tumble, returning as sand in the banks of my memories

In you I will form new impressions. In you, I will place new stones.

- Tyler Signorella, OMS-II, MSUCOM

UNTITLED

- April Martino, PA-C, Pediatric Physical Medicine & Rehabilitation

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